Categories
Lyrics

Belly – Mumble Rap

Uh, fuckin’ hoes that ain’t worth a cent
In homes that ain’t worth the rent
Perfect sense, this is the circus that I had to circumvent
If you fly, I’m turbulance
Murder murder, screamin’ "Fuck 12!" with a perfect 10
In these streets runnin’ ’round robbin’ every fuckin’ body like a tournament
Once the time has turned
This is the only shit I learned
I put a bridge over my pool, that’s for all the ones that burned
I hope you pick up game, it’s a pick up game, winner’s ball
Hoes annoying just like the hiccups man, that’s Biggie Smalls
Dope dick give your bitch withdrawals
Why’d you even get your bitch involved?
I’m gone off the liquor, I’m sicker than Paul
And call it, just listen, I’m twisted and raw
Pictured it all
I had to sacrifice, I feel extra blessed tonight
Yeah they slept on me, I flexed on ’em, and manifest to life

I been ridin’ through the city on my own
Only time I see myself was in this chrome
Oh man, I been gettin’ in my zone
Hearin’ everybody soundin’ like some clones
[?]
Man I been- I been trappin’ on my own
[?]

Okay, I need to get in my hemisphere
You interfere, start to interfere
You Richard Gere with a pretty woman, I told her look ain’t no tricks in here
Like the drugs white and the liquor clear
Reflect back, tryna make it clear
Bad luck, 7 years, and I ain’t even break a mirror
20 years just to make it here
Don’t take it there, your circles is made of squares
You shoulda been made aware
Your bitch said my face is her favorite chair
Oh God, whole squad made millions
Whole time stay real
Wonder why I can’t chill
Couldn’t even pay bills
Now it’s LA hills
And I’m the king, Hank Hill
Can’t feel, can’t stand still
I blame all these damn pills
The best shit we can’t feel
I’m signin’ NDAs, these texts like NBA deals
But envy may kill, still don’t give a fuck how they feel

I been ridin’ through the city on my own
Only time I see myself was in this chrome
Oh man, I been gettin’ in my zone
Hearin’ everybody soundin’ like some clones
[?]
Man I been- I been trappin’ on my own
[?]

Categories
Lyrics

Kevin Gates – Imagine That

[Intro]
No matter what, ain’t no cryin’
You don’t gotta tell me it hurt
I know it hurt
No cryin’
To lose somebody you really love and they not dead
Suck it up and roll
But you dead to me
Yeah, yeah
Love you with all my heart, I swear to God I do
So I forgive you, I’ll never forget what you did

[Chorus]
I’m not a human being
And I came up from nothin’ just imagine that
Now I got my own, just imagine that
Tried to take it from me, I went and got it back
I lost day ones, just imagine that
Feelin’ like it’s all on me
Soon as they fall, they gon’ call on me
I remember when they used to talk ’bout me
These days now I got it all, just imagine that

[Verse 1]
Like I remember when it wasn’t nothin’ with us
Now it’s retarded
These days now I got it all
Choppin’ game with the President, we on a call
Now we flyin’ over Bogota
I swear that I’m flyer, it ain’t no denial
I’m drownin’, yeah, we goin’ up
Got another female say she want it right now
Told her I ain’t comin’, you gon’ have to pipe down
I’m in the studio, I’m on the grind right now
Like right now

[Chorus]
And I came up from nothin’ just imagine that
Now I got my own, just imagine that
Tried to take it from me, I went and got it back
I lost day ones, just imagine that
Feelin’ like it’s all on me
Soon as they fall, they gon’ call on me
I remember when they used to talk ’bout me
These days now I got it all, just imagine that

[Verse 2]
I’m not a human being, but who do you believe?
All praise be to God right now, I achieve
I’ve been to hell and back, now I’m seein’ different things
And what we sippin’ on, we never said it give you wings
I don’t get tired, I’m a billionaire, what you believe
I’m a bread winner, tell Malcolm X rest in peace
Lot of bred Japanese red stitch denim jeans
I ain’t scared of death, say you want it, yeah, we can squeeze
You ain’t ready, yeah
When I’m alone in my trap, I would stare at the wall
Listenin’ to Biggie Smalls, I can’t wait ’til I ball
It’s just me and my dawg, had a couple of flaws
I was bad at savin’ money ’til a dick got a broad
I fell off, I got it
In Brooks town in the bed with her lookin’ at the roof
I’m not opinionated, but I used to keep a tool
Never had too many problems ’til I had too many partners
Richard ever call a nigga back, he know I got him
I put that on my body

[Chorus]
And I came up from nothin’ just imagine that
Now I got my own, just imagine that
Tried to take it from me, I went and got it back
I lost day ones, just imagine that
Feelin’ like it’s all on me
Soon as they fall, they gon’ call on me
I remember when they used to talk ’bout me
These days now I got it all, just imagine that

[Verse 3]
Open up to tell me why you frownin’ up, time flies fast
Thumbin’ through the bands, countin’ up
I no longer post on Carolina, had to switch the route
Turn the beat up, I ain’t all beat in the drought
I don’t fuck with nothin’ but some steppers, dope game veteran
Cocaine seller, you got raw it move better
Two grand, quinine, make the dog food better
The one take a one, threw a mil’, no pressure

[Chorus]
And I came up from nothin’ just imagine that
Now I got my own, just imagine that
Tried to take it from me, I went and got it back
I lost day ones, just imagine that
Feelin’ like it’s all on me
Soon as they fall, they gon’ call on me
I remember when they used to talk ’bout me
These days now I got it all, just imagine that

Categories
Lyrics

2Pac – Hit ’em Up (Dirty)

[Intro: 2Pac]
I ain’t got no motherfuckin’ friends
That’s why I fucked yo’ bitch, you fat motherfucker!
(Take money) West Side, Bad Boy killers
(Take money) You know who the realest is
(Take money) We bring it too
(Take money)

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
First off, fuck yo’ bitch and the clique you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life
Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. is some mark-ass bitches
We keep on comin’ while we runnin’ for your jewels
Steady gunnin’, keep on bustin’ at them fools, you know the rules
Lil’ Caesar, go ask your homie how I’ll leave ya
Cut your young-ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Lil’ Kim, don’t fuck around with real G’s
Quick to snatch yo’ ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace!
I’ll let them niggas know it’s on for life
Don’t let the Westside ride tonight (ha ha ha)
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get yo’ caps peeled, you know

[Hook: 2Pac]
See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is
I don’t know why I’m even on this track
Y’all niggas ain’t even on my level
I’ma let my little homies ride
On you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches, feel it!

[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Moo’, pass the MAC
And let me hit him in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for settin’ traps
Little accident murderer
And I ain’t never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I’m servin’ ya
Spank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank
Guard your rank ’cause I’ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin’ block I’m runnin’ through, nigga
And I’m smokin’ Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty/sour
I push packages every hour; I hit ’em up!

[Hook: 2Pac]
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle, all you niggas gettin’ killed
With your mouths open
Tryna come up off of me, you in the clouds, hopin’
Smokin’ dope, it’s like a sherm high
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talkin’ about you gettin’ money, but it’s funny to me
All you niggas livin’ bummy — why you fuckin’ with me?
I’m a self-made millionaire
Thug livin’, out of prison, pistols in the air (ha ha)
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?
Now it’s all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn’t drop me, I took it and smiled
Now I’m back to set the record straight
With my AK, I’m still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I hit ’em up!

[Verse 4: Kadafi]
I’m from N-E-W Jers’ where plenty of murders occurs
No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario: Lil’ Cease
I’ll bring you fake G’s to your knees, coppin’ pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up?
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck, is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin’, shootin’ and pollutin’ your block
With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw MAFIA clique movin’ up another notch
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked

[Verse 5: E.D.I. Mean]
You’s a beat biter, a Pac style taker
I’ll tell you to your face you ain’t shit but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
About to get murdered for the paper
E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Little Ceas’ in a choke
Gun totin’ smoke, we ain’t no motherfuckin’ joke
Thug Life, niggas better be knowin’
We approachin’ in the wide open, gun smokin’
No need for hopin’, it’s a battle lost
I got ’em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin’ off
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Outro: 2Pac]
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run, ha ha
They don’t wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin’ up tryna be us
How the fuck they gonna be the mob
When we always on our job?
We millionaires, killin’ ain’t fair
But somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep: you wanna fuck with us?
You little young-ass motherfuckers
Don’t one of you niggas got sickle-cell or somethin’?
You’re fuckin’ with me, nigga
You fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it!
But we ain’t singin’, we bringin’ drama
Fuck you and yo’ motherfuckin’ mama!
We gon’ kill all you motherfuckers!
Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth
With a motherfuckin’ opinion
Well, this is how we gonna do this: fuck Mobb Deep! Fuck Biggie!
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfuckin’ crew!
And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too!
Chino XL: fuck you too!
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too!
(Take money, take money)
All of y’all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow!
Motherfucker, my .44 make sho’ all y’all kids don’t grow!
You motherfuckers can’t be us or see us
We motherfuckin’ Thug Life-riders, Westside ’til we die!
Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya
We’ll bomb on you motherfuckers! We do our job!
You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin’ mob!
Ain’t nothin’ but killers and the real niggas
All you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple
You niggas laugh ’cause our staff got guns under their motherfuckin’ belts
You know how it is: when we drop records, they felt
You niggas can’t feel it, we the realest
Fuck ’em, we Bad Boy killers!

Categories
Lyrics

Notorious B.i.g. – Want That Old Thing Back Lyrics

NOTORIOUS B.I.G.
Want That Old Thing Back Lyrics

Uh yeah, Bad Boy baby
Biggie Smalls
Listen…

[Singing:]
Uh yeah baby oooooooh, listen to me, oh yeaaaah

[Notorious B.I.G.:]
When it comes to sex, I’m similar to the thriller in Manila
Honeys call me Bigga the condom filler
Whether it’s stiff tongue or stiff dick
Biggie squeeze it to make shit fit, now check this shit
I got the pack of Rough Riders in the back of the Pathfinder
You know the ep along by James Todd Smith
I get swift with the lyrical gift
Hit you with the dick, make your kidneys shift
Here we go, here we go, but I’m not Domino
I got the funk flow to make your drawers drop slow
So recognize the dick size in these Karl Kani jeans
I’m in thirteens, know what I mean
I f**k around and hit you with the Hennessey dick
Mess around and go blind, don’t get to see shit
The next batter, here to shatter your bladder, it doesn’t matter
Skinny or fat or boy-skinned or black, baby I drop
These boricua mommies screamin “Ay papi!”
I love it when they call me Big Poppa
I only smoke blunts if they rolled propa
Look, I gotcha caught up in the drunk flow
f**k tae kwon do, I tote da fo’-fo’
For niggaz gettin mad cause they bitch chose me
A big black motherf**ker with G ya see
All I do is separate the game from the truth
Big bang boots from the Bronx to Bolivia
Gettin Physical like Olivia Newt
Tricks suck my clique dick all day with no trivia
So gimme a hoe, a bankroll and a bag of weed
I’m guaranteed to f**k her till her nose bleed
Even if your new man’s a certified mack
You’ll get that H-town in ya, you’ll want that old thing back

[Chorus:]
What you wanna do?
I got that old thing back
What you wanna see?
Baby sing relax and feel
What you be, where you are
You wouldn’t start

[Ja Rule:]
Bitches screamin they want That old thing back
Like B I Double G I E
Wit some new R-U-L-E
Notorious known to bustin in ya E-Y-E, baby baby!
Bitches know they love and hate me
I come, you come, we come, with back some maybe
How close we came to come the ghetto is crazy
How come you ain’t, ?? semi your faces
When I come you be cryin like I’m killin ya bitches
Knows when picture in the camera rollin
Cause I only be knowin how the shit’s unfolded
Back shots to the rear, got the mac unloaded
Got a reload, like every so often
You sayin I got my swagger back
I’m lookin like bitch, my swagger never left
It’s so hard pressed, to be impressed by these new rappers
They actors, and the fact is, you want that old thing back
Shit…

[Chorus]

[Notorious B.I.G.:]
Is my mind playin tricks, like Scarface and Bushwick
Willie D, havin nightmares of girls killin me
She mad because what we had didn’t last
I’m glad because her cousin let me hit the ass
f**k the past let’s dwell on the 500 SL, the E and J and ginger ale
The way my pockets swell to the rim with Benjamins
Another hon’s in the crib, please send her in
I f**k nonstop, lick my lips alot, used to lick the clits alot
But lickin clits had to stop
Cause y’all don’t know how to act when the tongue go down below
Peep the funk flow, really though
I got the cleanest meanest penis, ya never seen this stroke of genius
So take off your Tim boots and your bodysuit
I mean the spandex and hit my man next
Sex gettin rougher when it come to the nut buster
Pussy crusher, black nasty motherf**ker
I don’t chase em, I replace em
and if I’m caressin em, I’m undressin em
f**k whatcha heard who’s the best in New York
For fillin fantasies without that nigga Mr. Walk
Or Tattoo I got you wrapped around my dick
And when I’m done I got to split shit
Back shots is my position, I gotcha wishin for an intermission
f**k the kissin, lickin down to your belly button, I ain’t frontin
They don’t call me B.I.G. for nuttin, all of a sudden

[Chorus]

[Outro:]
Biggie Smalls
P. Diddy y’all
Bad Boy for life
Once again going to the top baby

Categories
Lyrics

Cam’ron – Welcome To New York City (feat. Jay-Z & Juelz Santana)

Turn the motherfuckin’ music up
Just Blaze, man, you owe me nigga
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Welcome to the Empire State
Home of the World Trade
Birthplace of Michael Jordan
Home of Biggie Smalls
Roc-A-Fella headquaters
Ladies and gentlemen, Killa Cam, Young Hov is definitely in the building
Brooklyn, Harlem World
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Stand the fuck up

I’m a B.K. brawler, Marcy projects hallway loiterer
Pure coke copper, get your order up
I bring ’em to Baltimore in the Ford Explorer
It’s gonna cost you more if I gotta get ’em to Florida
Rucker game attender; with the Bent parked
On the sidewalk with the temp plates on the fender
I ain’t hard to find you catch me front and center
At the Knick game, big chain in all my splendor
Next to Spike if you pan left to right
I own Madison Square, catch me at the fight
But damn once again if you pan left at the ice
It be the man that write checks with the hand that don’t write
I go off the head when I’m rambling on the mic
And I go off the feds when I’m scrambling at night
And it was often said I brought hammers to the fight
But we from New York City, right Cam? (Ya damn right)

It’s the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still bangin’, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y’all fuckin’ with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
Now that’s danger, there’s nothing left to say but
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

Yo, there’s a war goin’ on outside no man is safe from
It don’t matter if you three feet or eight-one
You’ll get eight from the nine and straight blown
Wig split, melon cracked, all that on day one
Carry eight guns, two in the trunk
Two in the waist, two in the ankle, two to just spank you
You get jammed with them jammers, blammed with them blammers
Hot here, ask Mase he ran to Atlanta
Think you know what life do, minks on the motor-cycle
Trinkets they so delightful, blinging with so much ice fool
In front of Sparks body Castellano
Block away watch by Gotti and Gravano
It’s la cosra nostra, someone close approach ya
They’ll toast ya: gopher, bread loafer, your chauffeur
Old coke they raise up and snort, blaze up ya fort
Jay, Puff, Shyne: cases was caught
Midnight pitch fights, another victim
Watch him fore he watch you, Killa
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

It’s the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still bangin’, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y’all fuckin’ with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
Now that’s danger, there’s nothing left to say but
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

I’m from 101, west a Hund 40th, this shit is live
5th floor, 56, you know the zip, district 5
You’re on 22nd, hit you from two-one
That’s on Lenox, 7th Ave was News One
Coverage at Centre Street
Got Brafman defendin’ me
Cause New York’ll miss me if I’m locked in the penitentiary
The judge said "Is this that thug, from the Kit-Kat club?"
But I got enough chips stacked up to make the bitch back up
Killa, I pinch that button, I grip that snub to hit that thug
Lay up in a pitch black tub
You lookin’ at rich black thugs to get that love
And we won’t stop til I get back Blood
Holla at em Hov

I’m from Flushing, Marcy, Nostrand, Myrtle and Park
Niggas’ll drive by in the day, murder you in the dark
That’s why the Johnny gun I’m holding
Wet niggas up like the johnny-pump is open
Homie, I play hard

It’s the home of 9-11, the place of the lost towers
We still bangin’, we never lost power, tell em
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City
Y’all fuckin’ with BK’s banger and Harlem’s own gangster
Now that’s danger, there’s nothing left to say but
Welcome to New York City, welcome to New York City

You all niggas, man
Y’all can’t fuck around, man
It’s the ROC bitch, Killa
My nigga Jigga, Siegel, Beans
Diplomats, man, holla, Dash
Get the fuck off our dick – no homo
Probably own this city for two minutes, man
I own this shit right now man, I ain’t going nowhere
Welcome to New York City

Categories
Lyrics

Tech N9ne – I Get It Now (feat. Krizz Kaliko) (The Storm Deluxe Edition Album)

[Intro]
Industry does not, feel you
I’m sick of this shit
Blind bitches wish
N9ne’s wickedness away

[Verse 1]
Motherfuckin’ killer B
There’s about to become a distillery
The majority don’t really feel a G
With the paint and a dark soliloquy
Music, they said killed the fee
Me, Krizz, and Makzilla free
So I’m gonna have to keep it real with me
Fuck them straight with agility
They callin’ me crazy
Don’t wanna play me
So I make the music that will target their babies
And open ’em up to wicked shit
They wanna know how hip is this
This never been no hipster shit
So the fakers see me and dis the ‘fit
I ain’t cool like the late great Biggie Smalls, the illest
So I went the route of a killer clown comin’ to pillage a village
Steady tryin’ to get ’em all to feel it
But I learned you can’t please everybody
When my mother was livin’ they used to say "your son is scary Maudie"
I don’t give a flyin’, dyin’
Spy inside of al-Qaeda, they lyin’
When tryin’ to diss Tech N9ne
And when they all shall buy us
I don’t fit the part for main stream cause I’m rougher
Only time they wanna look like me is Halloween motherfucker
I realize I’m not inviting

[Hook: Tech N9ne & Krizz Kaliko]
You ain’t with it
Sit it down
I’m a vicious
Wicked clown
And I’m livid when the critics give us frowns
Trippin’ with this nigga’s sound
Yup, I get it now
Get it, me and you, we are not the same
We unequal and the people is to blame, get it?
I get it now
I guess I got the wrong pants on
And I don’t really make no dance songs, get it?
I get it now

[Interlude]
Y’all can’t tell I’m fuckin’ myself up more and more on purpose?
I love scarin’ the hell out of y’all, haha

[Verse 2]
Stick the masses, whack it off in the casket
Sound like they wrist broken like put the fuckin’ lotion in the basket
How is he livin’ lavish when he rap really fast and he mask it?
They don’t get it when I gas it
They laugh at it, mad it ain’t ratchet
They wanna wear clothes just like A$AP Rocky, like Yeezy and Drake
That’s what they identify with, not with a nigga with the clown paint on his face
I get it that I’m wicked
When I spit it they be comin’ to get ’em a ticket
Talk a lot of shit at the gate and they got to zip it
When I’m bustin’, they open up to somethin’ different and dig it
I get it, I never looked like the average black dude
Track shoes, gold teeth, and covered in tattoos
Yak, booze, reeking and chiefing the sack through
Speakin’ about reaching them hardened hat screws
Jack move
Yes I’ve become a big boss
But I’ll never be cool as Rick Ross
That’s okay, N9ne’s been rhyming
And now he’s shining
Perfect timing

[Hook: Tech N9ne & Krizz Kaliko]
You ain’t with it
Sit it down
I’m a vicious
Wicked clown
And I’m livid when the critics give us frowns
Trippin’ with this nigga’s sound
Yup, I get it now
Get it, me and you, we are not the same
We unequal and the people is to blame, get it?
I get it now
I guess I got the wrong pants on
And I don’t really make no dance songs, get it?
I get it now

[Outro: Tech N9ne & Woman Speaking in Reverse]
So what I’ve come to realize is I will never fit in
So it’s my duty to make sure that I stand the fuck out
Meht etinu lliw eh esuac’ ,meht sthgif reven eh yhw s’taht ,meht ekil gnihton s’eH
If this thing does not kill you
Grind back to back tracks
Find racks on racks
N9ne’s stacking that all day