I'll start up posting two of my favoritesOne Mic- [speaking softly, gradually getting louder]One time.. yeah.. yeah..Yo, all I need is one mic, one beat, one stageOne nigga front, my face on the front pageOnly if I had one gun, one girl and one cribOne God to show me how to do things his son didPure, like a cup of virgin blood; mixed with151, one sip'll make a nigga flipWritin names on my hollow tips, plottin sh*tMad violence who I'm gon' body, this hood politicsAckowledge it, leave bodies chopped up in garbagesSeeds watch us, grow up and try to follow usPolice watch us {*siren*} roll up and try knockin usOne knee I ducked, could it be my time is upBut my luck, I got up, the cop shot againBus stop glass bursts, a fiend drops his HeinekenRichochetin between the spots that I'm hidin inBlackin out as I shoot back, F*ck gettin hit! [more sirens]This is my hood I'ma rep, to the death of it'til everybody come home, little niggaz is grownHoodrats, don't abortion your womb, we need more warriors soonSip from the star sun and the moonIn this life of police chases street sweepers and coppersStick-up kids with no conscience, leavin victims with doctorsIF YOU REALLY THINK YOU READY TO DIE, WITH NINES OUTTHIS IS WHAT NAS IS BOUT, NIGGA THE TIME IS NOW![whispering again]Yo, all I need is one mic..All I need is one mic.. that's all I needAll I need is one mic.. all I need niggazAll I need is one mic.. yeah[gradually getting louder]All I need is one blunt, one page, and one penOne prayer - tell God forgive me for one sinMatter fact maybe more than one, look backat all the hatred against me, F*ck alla themJesus died at age 33, there's thirty-three shotsfrom twin glocks there's sixteen apiece, that's thirty-twoWhich means, one of my guns was holdin 17Twenty-seven hit your crew, six went into youEverybody gotta die sometime; hope your funeralnever gets shot up, bullets tear through the innocentNothin is fair, niggaz roll up, shootin from wheelchairsMy heart is racin, tastin revenge in the airI let the sh*t slide for too many years, too many timesNow I'm strapped with a couple of macs, too many ninesIf y'all niggaz really with me get busy load up the semisDo more than just hold it explode the clip until you emptyThere's nothin in our way - they bust, we bust, they rust, we rustLead flyin, feel it? I feel it in my gutTHAT WE TAKE THESE BITCHES TO WAR, LIE 'EM DOWNCAUSE WE STRONGER NOW MY NIGGA THE TIME IS NOW!![whispering again]All I need is one mic.. that's all I need, that's all I needAll I need is one mic.. there's nuttin else in the worldAll I need is one mic.. that's all a nigga need to do his thing y'knowAll I need is one mic..[starting loud this time, getting quieter]ALL I NEED IS ONE LIFE, ONE TRY, ONE BREATH I'M ONE MANWHAT I STAND FOR SPEAKS FOR ITSELF, THEY DON'T UNDERSTANDOr wanna see me on top, too egotisticalTalkin all that slick sh*t, the same way these bitches doWonder what my secrets is, niggaz'll move on youonly if they know, what your weakness is I have noneToo late to grab guns I'm blastin cause I'm a cool niggaThought I wouldn't have that ass done? Fooled you niggazWhat you call a infinite brawl, eternal souls clashinWar gets deep, some beef is everlastinComplete with thick scars, brothers knifin each otherup in prison yards, drama, where does it start?You know the block was ill as a youngsterEvery night it was like a, cop would get killed body found in the dumpsterFor real a hustler, purchased my Range, niggaz throwin dirt on my nameJealous cause fiends got they work and complainBitches left me cause they thought I was finishedShoulda knew she wasn't true she came to me when her man caught a sentenceDiamonds are blindin, I never make the same mistakesMovin with a change of pace, lighter load, see now the king is straightSwellin my melon cause none of these niggaz realHeard he was, tellin police, how can a kingpin squeal?This is crazy, I'm on the right track I'm finally foundYou need some soul searchin, the time is nowAll I need is one mic.. yeah, yeah yeah yeahAll I need is one mic.. that's all I ever needed in this world, F*ck cashAll I need is one mic.. F*ck the cars, the jewelryAll I need is one mic.. to spread my voice to the whole worldUncommon valor: A Vietnam StoryI don't know why I'm over here this job is evilThey send there to Vietnam to kill innocent peopleMy mother wrote me said the President he doesn't careWe trying to leave the footprints of America hereThey say we're trying to stop Chinese expansionBut I ain't seen no Chinese since we landedSent my whole entire unit thinking we can winAgainst the Viet Cong guerillas there in Gia DinhI didn't sign up to kill women or any childrenFor every enemy soldier, we killing six civiliansYeah, and that ain't right to meI ain't got enough of f*cking' fight in meIt frightens me and I just want to see my son and momsBut over here they dropping seven million tons of bombsI spend my days dodging all these booby traps and minesAnd at night, praying to God that I get back aliveAnd I'm forced to sit back and wonderWhy I was a part of 'Operation Rolling Thunder'In a fox hole with nine months left hereJungle like the fu*kin' harbinger of death here[Interlude](solider speaking)I don't want to be here. I'm scared, I just want to go home.(officer speaking)You f*cking kidding me? Don't be a pussy. Don't you love your country?(solider speaking)I like being here. I'm ready.[Verse 2 - R.A. The Rugged Man]True story...Call me Thorburn, John H. Staff Sergeant, MarksmanSkilling, killing, illingI'm able and willingKill a village elephant, rape and pillage your villageIllegitimate killers, US Military guerillasThis ain't a real war, Vietnam sh*tWorld War II, that's a war, this is just a military conflictSoothing, drug-abusing, Vietnamese women screwingSex, scampling and booz, and all the sh*t is amusingBitches and guns, this is every man's dreamI don't want to go home, where I'm just a ordinary human beingSpecial OP, Huey chopper gun sh*t, run sh*tGook run when the mini-gun spit, won't miss, kill sh*tSpit four-thousand bullets a minuteBit the Charlie, hit trigger, hit itI'm in it to win it, get itThe lieutenant hinted the villain, I've ended up killingThe killing, I did it, cripple, did it, pictures I painted is vivid, live itA wizard with weapons, a secret mission we about to begin itGovernment funded, behind enemy lines bullets is sprayingIt's heating up, a hundred degreesThe enemy's the North Vietnamese, bi*ch pleaseAin't no sweat, I'm told "be at ease"Until I see the pilot got hit, and we about to hit some trees(???), crash land, American manCambodia, right in the enemy handTake a swig of the whiskey to calm usThem yellow men wearing black pajamasThey want to harm usThey all up on usBang, bang, bullet hit my chest, feel no painTo my left, the captain caught a bullet right in his brainBody parts flying, loss of limbs, explosionsBad intentions, I see my best friend's intestinesPray to the one above, It's raining and I'm covered in mudI think I'm dying, I feel dizzy, I'm losing bloodI see my childhood, I'm back in the arms of my motherI see my whole life, I see Christ, I see bright lightsI see Israelites, Muslims and Christians at peace, no fightsBlacks, Whites, Asians, people of all typesI must have died, then I woke up, suprised I'm aliveI'm in a hospital bed, they rescued me, I survivedI escaped the war, came backBut ain't escape Agent Orange, two of my kids born handicappedSpastic, quadriplegic, micro cephalicCerebral palsy, cortical blindness, name it they had itMy son died he ain't live, but I still try to think positiveCause in life, God take, God give
I have that song on my pod. Awesomeness. Just a verse from "I'll Be Missing You", by P. Diddy feat. Faith Evans.Seems like yesterday we used to rock the show I laced the track, you locked the flow So far from hangin' on the block for dough Notorious they got to know that Life ain't always what it seem to be Words can't express what you mean to me Even though you're gone we still a team Thru your family I'll fulfill your dreams Open up the gates for me Reminisce sometime the night they took my friend Try to black it out, but it plays again When it's real feelings hard to conceal Can't imagine all the pain I feel Give anything to hear half your breath I know you still livin' your life after death I like this song, so don't bash me.
Fort Minor - Kenji Lyrics My father came from Japan in 1905He was 15 when he immigrated from JapanHe, he... he worked until he was able to buy this patchAnd build a storeLet me tell you the story in the form of a dream,I don't know why I have to tell it but I know what it means,Close your eyes, just picture the scene,As I paint it for you, it was World War II,When this man named Kenji woke up,Ken was not a soldier,He was just a man with a family who owned a store in LA,That day, he crawled out of bed like he always did,Bacon and eggs with wife and kids,He lived on the second floor of a little store he ran,He moved to LA from Japan,They called him 'Immigrant,'In Japanese, he'd say he was called "Esay,"That meant 'First Generation In The United States,'When everyone was afraid of the Germans, afraid of the Japs,But most of all afraid of a homeland attack,And that morning when Ken went out on the doormat,His world went black 'cause,Right there; front page news,Three weeks before 1942,"Pearl Harbour's Been Bombed And The Japs Are Comin',"Pictures of soldiers dyin' and runnin',Ken knew what it would lead to,Just like he guessed, the President said,"The evil Japanese in our home country will be locked away,"They gave Ken, a couple of days,To get his whole life packed in two bags,Just two bags, couldn't even pack his clothes,Some folks didn't even have a suitcase, to pack anything in,So two trash bags was all they gave them,When the kids asked mum "Where are we goin'?"Nobody even knew what to say to themKen didn't wanna lie, he said "The US is lookin' for spies,So we have to live in a place called Mandinar,Where a lot of Japanese people are,"Stop it don't look at the gunmen,You don't wanna get the soldiers wonderin',If you gonna run or not,'Cause if you run then you might get shot,Other than that try not to think about it,Try not to worry 'bout it; bein' so crowded,Someday we'll get out, someday, someday.As soon as war broke outThe G.I came and they just come to the house and"You have to come""All the Japanese have to go"They took Mr. LeePeople didn't understandWhy did they have to take him?Because he's an innocent (neighbor?)So now they're in a town with soldiers surroundin' them,Every day, every night look down at themFrom watch towers up on the wall,Ken couldn't really hate them at all;They were just doin' their job and,He wasn't gonna make any problems,He had a little garden with vegetables and fruits that,He gave to the troops in a basket his wife made,But in the back of his mind, he wanted his families lifesavedPrisoners of war in their own damn country,What for?Time passed in the prison town,He wanted them to live it down when they were free,The only way out was joinin' the army,And supposedly, some men went out for the army, signed on,And ended up flyin' to Japan with a bomb,That 15 kilotonne blast, put an end to the war pretty fast,Two cities were blown to bits; the end of the war came quick,Ken got out, big hopes of a normal life, with his kids and hiswife,But, when they got back to their home,What they saw made them feel so alone,These people had trashed every room,Smashed in the windows and bashed in the doors,Written on the walls and the floor,"Japs not welcome anymore."And Kenji dropped both of his bags at his sides and just stoodoutside,He, looked at his wife without words to say,She looked back at him wiped the tears away,And, said "Someday we'll be okay, someday,"Now the names have been changed, but the story's true,My family was locked up back in '42,My family was there it was dark and damp,And they called it an internment campWhen we first got back from camp... uhhIt was... pretty... pretty badI, I remember my husband said"Are we gonna stay 'til last?"Then my husband died before they close the camp.
"Life We Live"-Project Pat(feat. Edgar Fletcher, Namond Lumpkin) "Brenda's Got A Baby"-Tupac "Hit em Up"-Tupac (one of the greatest diss' ever) "Hurt"-Johnny Cash(this song always makes me feel sad)
NY State of Mind <div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickinMusician, inflictin compositionof pain I'm like Scarface sniffin cocaineHoldin a M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, nowBulletholes left in my peepholesI'm suited up in street clothesHand me a nine and I'll defeat foesY'all know my steelo with or without the airplayI keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairwayOr either on the corner bettin grands with the celo champsLaughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken ampsG-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk sh*tRemeniscing about the last time the Task Force flippedNiggaz be runnin through the block shootinTime to start the revolution, catch a body head for HoustonOnce they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass andI ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassinPicked the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up," the Mac spitLead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflipHeard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't lookGave another squeeze heard it click yo, my sh*t is stuckTried to cock it, it wouldn't shoot now I'm in dangerFinally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamberSo now I'm jetting to the building lobbyand it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be(So whatchu sayin?) It's like the game ain't the sameGot youngin' niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they nameand claim some corners, crews without guns are gonersIn broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on usFo'-fives and gauges, Macs in factSame niggaz'll catch a back to back, snatchin yo' cracks in blackYo there's a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knockedSo hold your stash 'til the coke price dropI know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rockAnd if it's good she'll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yoYou gotta slide on a vacationInside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basinIt drops deep as it does in my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is definedI think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind("New York state of mind" --> Rakim *repeat 4X*)Verse Two: NasBe havin dreams that I'ma gangster -- drinkin Moets, holdin TecsMakin sure the cash came correct then I steppedInvestments in stocks, sewin up the blocksto sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega copsBut just a nigga, walking with his finger on the triggerMake enough figures until my pockets get biggerI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testinGive me a Smith and Wessun I'll have niggaz undressinThinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelterWhenever frustrated I'ma hijack DeltaIn the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are straysYoung bitches is grazed, each block is like a mazefull of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packedFrom what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, blackI'm livin where the nights is jet blackThe fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit backand lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewnOr the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, holmesI got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too saneLife is parallel to Hell but I must maintainand be prosperous, though we live dangerouscops could just arrest me, blamin us, we're held like hostagesIt's only right that I was born to use micsand the stuff that I write, is even tougher than diceI'm takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slowMy rhymin is a vitamin, Held without a capsuleThe smooth criminal on beat breaksNever put me in your box if your sh*t eats tapesThe city never sleeps, full of villians and creepsThat's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaksI'ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepersIn the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach yaInhale deep like the words of my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathI lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier timesNothing's equivalent, to the new york state of mind("New York state of mind" --> Rakim *repeat 4X*)("Nasty Nas" --> cut and scratched 8X)</div>Wow most genious song ever. Bow down to it.
XZIBIT- Thank You<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>[Xzibit] Yo, listen, huh[Chorus: Xzibit]I just wanna thank you, for bein aroundAnd patiently waitin and holdin me downIt's easy to see, for Mr. X to the ZThat without no you, there could be no meI just wanna thank you, for bein a fanAnd watchin me grow from a boy to a manIt's easy to see, for Mr. X to the ZThat without no you, there could be no me[Xzibit]You 'bout to hear some words, that you ain't probably heardWith all of these rappers pullin triggers and flippin birdsI know it sound absurd, cause they don't tell the truthThey prostitutes, fu*kin contaminate the youthBut yet I'm guilty of, the things I said aboveNo matter my faults still continue to show me loveNaw I ain't perfect mayne, but yet I stay the sameI play chess not checkers but this is not a gameAnd this is not a song, and this is not a verseIt's not conceived, or simulated or been rehearsedSpent the first half of my life, thinkin that I was cursedCould have been hit with a hollow, follow behind my hearseThat wasn't meant for me, I spent a decademakin it what it's 'sposed to be, hopefully brought you close to meAll these people approachin me, don't even know the halfI could be facin life but X is signin autographs, damn[Chorus][Xzibit]My son's 11 now, I got to see him growMakin his free throws, the way he laughin at the showYo he remind me of me, when I was ridin bikesHe gon' be taller than me, he got my mother's heightBut yo you know the difference, between me and them othersThey say you buggin when I call you my sisters and brothersI coulda missed it all, I coulda dropped the ballMind of Metallica, motherfuck 'em and "Kill 'Em All"I used to hustle raw, I used to run the streetsI used to hustle heats, I grinded all my beefMost of my homies is gone, restin in peaceSome'll never see release from custody of police, but meBut nah my little dude get to go to private schoolAnd I can do the things my father couldn't afford to doThat's what it's 'sposed to do, this is from me to youSupport from you and yours, thank you for gettin me through, true[Chorus][Xzibit]We buried Proof today, it really broke me upto see my brother in that casket, maaan what the F*ck?Media made me angry, I had to soak it upThe future is fragile never promised to none of usHittin so close to home, but what I focused onis how he lived, the lives he touched, the cornerstoneWe never walk alone, although sometime it seemsthat nightmares go hand in hand with livin out dreamsSo let me take this time, from my struggle my grindto let you know that I appreciate you by my sideIt's been a long ride, a lot of long nightsA lot of long flights, worth every sacrificeA soldier of fortune fearless fightin the good fightI never had a plan B, I never lost sightThat's why I hit the stage, that's why I kill the micIt's for my fans that's ridin with Xzibit for life, RIGHT![Chorus][Outro]Thank you, for lettin me breatheFor lettin me be who I am, huh, yeah, huhTwo little words, y'all never get to hear enoughKnahmsayin? Yeah that, hehe..Yes.. the returnUh-huh.. breathe!</div>
Binary Star - Reality Check<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>This is how I represent I rock the mic 110 percentIt's intimate, I keeps the party moving like a imigrantBinary Star, superstar its no coincidenceEvery verse is intricate, this ain't a circus in a tentWe don't get down like them clowns and the kidsI'm use to being indegent, who said its all about the Benjamin's?I wanna fortune, I wanna make music and hit the lotteryFortunately my music is never wateryThat's how its gotta be, as far as I can seeMaybe you should grab a telescope to see my veiw its like astronomyIt aint all about economyso the fact that these wack emcees is making G's don't bother meHonestly, my number one policy is qualitynever sell my soul is my philosophyHigh velocity, lyrics like Nastradamus make a prophecyI told you cats a long time a go it ain't no stoppin' meI bomb your set that's not a threat its a promiseGot everybody ridin' on my wagon like the AmishBut still I never claim to be a big rap starSo no matter who you are its still Allah who act GodBetter believe this, most rappers can't achieve thisI'm bad to the bone but x-rays can't even see thisSee I'm strategic I letcha money talk bullsh** walkWhile I keep it rollin' like parapalegicsWhoever's on the microphone let it be knownYou in danger, I got next(necks) like the Boston StranglerYou ain't never heard an emcee speak like thisAnd Rodney King ain't never felt a beat like this</div>Binary Star - Masters of the Universe<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>[Verse 1]The two headed dragon breathes fire, blows flames, veins pumping octaneblazing plain, same brainSame ankle that enabled Kain to slew that's a sharp bladeWhether your willing or able I see your stockadeI'm from an age where I display captionIt's passin' the fact that what you really tougue lashin'Yo and we strikin' they backs like they card cold the dashin'Can't escape slavery boyI'm still the master of natural disaster this rap toungue twisterEmergin' from Waterworld the mightly world windMicrophone cyclone blowing in your ears like your girlfriendTill the world ends all these minds puttin' work inEmploy these toys on a job and we'll see what the hell they was thinkin'Must've been drunkWhat the hell was they drinkin'?Why, are these rules?Broke as hell in a LincolnHead on collisions in these rap competitionsMy crew catch records turns their frames into scrape metalOff to the junk yardbecause ain't nobodies on my rap level you can ask the devilIt ain't no way in hell these contenders can henderRemember, guard your fender, from a frienderMista so now I'm Silla, sinister swindlaI brought you stigmas when your hides bust in line a temperThis is a warning to you menWe're joining these tournaments of journalists and live by the penNow die by the swordTears through your gaurd, got you through the mic cordIt's fine but explored, but just fine wine is pouredNow toast to this, as we pour a little out for those who.....be approaching this (7x)[Verse 2]Battle vocalist the one man army in a war against a blissLack of knowledge means I'm weaponlessDon't just step to thisI sent Pharoahe messages like Moses takin' my people on an exodusWe on the run, I split the m-I-c openKids try to follow but get swallowed in the oceanPreacher of the truth, non-believers makin' mockeryIt ain't no stoppin' me, I fulfill all prophecySimilar to David with the rock, I sling shots at your bestest warrior plusI'm ill with the poetryYou know its me but you still couldn't catch us, manuever on the mic or loseheads like John the BaptistWhen I rap this whack MC's feel the raptureOthers fugitive style your brains couldn't captureEver since the beginning of timeLet there be lightThat's the first day, I wrote my first rhymeI'm still writin', I seen you lookin' at 'em, but don't even think aboutbitin'Forbidden poetry is a lifeDig these, your ass couldn't hide from me with fig leaves..(scratching)ah..uh..con..trol..my..ah..yo..yo(you don't know me and you don't know my style [Method Man])[Verse 3]We move fast, like quick draw, McGraw, when it's timeWe get raw, our crew come together like jigsaw, puzzlesWe movin' on the doubleA t-r-o-u-b-l-e, we spell troubleFor you cats and dogs without muzzles, barking in my faceThat'll carry no weight like space shuttlesWe rock the mic like rubbleBinary Star came to rain, drip, drop, rain puddlesSubtle, anonymous, rap hippopatomus, no comogenousDeeper than a pit, that's bottomlessThe knowledge is, to see us, you must meet astrologistStars, quasars, cyrus, synonomous..</div>
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (yankshater213 @ Oct 28 2006, 03:08 AM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}></div><div class='quotemain'>NY State of Mind Wow most genious song ever. Bow down to it.</div>Yeah NY Sate of Mind is one of the most incredible rap songs ever written. "It drops deep as it does in my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is definedI think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind" :worthy: :worthy:
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (austingriz76 @ Oct 27 2006, 11:53 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}></div><div class='quotemain'>"Hurt"-Johnny Cash(this song always makes me feel sad)</div>He didn't write that song, just for reference. It's a Nine Inch Nails cover. Although, I do agree that it's pretty badass."Excuse my French but goddammit I got some colored friends." - LudacrisHahahaha.
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (Justice @ Oct 28 2006, 05:58 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}></div><div class='quotemain'>He didn't write that song, just for reference. It's a Nine Inch Nails cover. Although, I do agree that it's pretty badass."Excuse my French but goddammit I got some colored friends." - LudacrisHahahaha.</div>Yeah I heard somebody else wrote it, I thought it was Jack White though. But the way he sings it is kindve creepy. Giving the fact he died not too later after he came out with the song.
Rapper's Delight by the Sugarhill Gang. Here it is:I said a hip hop the hippie the hippieto the hip hip hop, a you dont stopthe rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogieto the rhythm of the boogie, the beatnow what you hear is not a test--I'm rappin to the beatand me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your feetsee I am wonder mike and I like to say helloto the black, to the white, the red, and the brown, the purple and yellowbut first I gotta bang bang the boogie to the boogiesay up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogielet's rock, you dont stoprock the riddle that will make your body rockwell so far youve heard my voice but I brought two friends alongand next on the mike is my man hankcome on, hank, sing that songcheck it out, I'm the c-a-s-an-the-o-v-aand the rest is f-l-yya see I go by the code of the doctor of the mixand these reasons I'll tell ya whyya see I'm six foot one and I'm tons of funand I dress to a tya see I got more clothes than muhammad ali and I dress so viciouslyI got bodyguards, I got two big carsthat definitely aint the wackI got a lincoln continental and a sunroof cadillacso after school, I take a dip in the poolwhich really is on the wallI got a color tv so I can seethe knicks play basketballhear me talkin bout checkbooks, credit cardsmore money than a sucker could ever spendbut I wouldnt give a sucker or a bum from the ruckernot a dime til I made it againya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what)ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankindrive off in a def ojeverybody go, hotel motel holiday innsay if your girl starts actin up, then you take her friendmaster gee, am I mellowits on you so what you gonna dowell it's on n on n on on n onthe beat dont stop until the break of dawnI said m-a-s, t-e-r, a g with a double eI said I go by the unforgettable nameof the man they call the master geewell, my name is known all over the worldby all the foxy ladies and the pretty girlsI'm goin down in historyas the baddest rapper there could ever benow I'm feelin the highs and ya feelin the lowsthe beat starts gettin into your toesya start poppin ya fingers and stompin your feetand movin your body while youre sittin in your seatand the damn ya start doin the freakI said damn, right outta your seatthen ya throw your hands high in the airya rockin to the rhythm, shake your derriereya rockin to the beat without a carewith the sureshot m.c.s for the affairnow, im not as tall as the rest of the gangbut I rap to the beat just the sameI dot a little face and a pair of brown eyesall im here to do ladies is hypnotizesingin on n n on n on n onthe beat dont stop until the break of dawnsingin on n n on n on on n onlike a hot buttered a pop the pop the pop dibbie dibbiepop the pop pop ya dont dare stopcome alive yall gimme what ya gotI guess by now you can take a hunchand find that I am the baby of the bunch'but that's okay I still keep in stridecause all I'm here to do is just wiggle your behindsingin on n n on n on n onthe beat dont stop until the break of dawnsingin on n n on n on on n onrock rock yall throw it on the floorim gonna freak ya here im gonna feak ya thereim gonna move you outta this atmospherecause im one of a kind and ill shock your mindill put t-t-tickets in your behindI said 1-2-3-4, come on girls get on the floora-come alive, yall a-gimme what ya gotcause im guaranteed to make you rockI said 1-2-3-4 tell me wonder mike what are you waitin for?I said a hip hop the hippie to the hippiethe hip hip hop, a you dont stopthe rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogieto the rhythm of the boogie, the beatskiddlee beebop a we rock a scoobie dooand guess what america we love youcause ya rock and ya roll with so much soulyou could rock till you're a hundred and one years oldI dont mean to brag I dont mean to boastbut we like hot butter on our breakfast toastrock it up baby bubbahbaby bubbah to the boogie the bang bang the boogieto the beat beat, its so uniquecome on everybody and dance to the beatI said a hip hop the hippie the hippieto the hip hip hop, a you dont stoprock it out baby bubbah to the boogie the bang bangthe boogie to the boogie the beatI said I cant wait til the end of the weekwhen im rappin to the rhythm of a groovy beatand attempt to raise your body heatjust blow your mind so that you cant speakand do a thing but a rock and shuffle your feetand let it change up to a dance called the freakand when ya finally do come in to your rhythmic beatrest a little while so ya dont get weakI know a man named hankhe has more rhymes than a serious bankso come on hank sing that songto the rhythm of the boogie the bang bang the bongwell, im imp the dimp the ladies pimpthe women fight for my delightbut im the grandmaster with the three mcsthat shock the house for the young ladiesand when you come inside, into the frontyou do the freak, spank, and do the bumpand when the sucker mcs try to prove a pointwe're treacherous trio, we're the serious jointa from sun to sun and from day to dayI sit down and write a brand new rhymebecause they say that miracles never ceaseI've created a devastating masterpieceI'm gonna rock the mike til you cant resisteverybody, I say it goes like thiswell I was comin home late one dark afternoona reporter stopped me for a interviewshe said she's heard stories and she's heard fablesthat I'm vicious on the mike and the turntablesthis young reporter I did adoreso I rocked a vicious rhyme like I never did beforeshe said damn fly guy im in love with youthe casanova legend must have been trueI said by the way baby what's your namesaid I go by the name of lois laneand you could be my boyfiend you surely canjust let me quit my boyfriend called supermanI said he's a fairy I do suppooseflyin through the air in pantyhosehe may be very sexy or even cutebut he looks like a sucker in a blue and red suitI said you need a man who's got finesseand his whole name across his chesthe may be able to fly all through the nightbut can he rock a party til the early lighthe cant satisfy you with his little wormbut I can bust you out with my super spermI go do it, I go do it, I go do it, do it , do itan I'm here an I'm there I'm big bang hank, im everywherejust throw your hands up in the airand party hardy like you just dont carelet's do it dont stop yall a tick a tock yall you dont stopgo hotel motel what you gonna do today(say what)im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spank drive off in a def ojeverybody go hotel motel holiday innyou say if your girl starts actin up then you take her friendI say skip, dive, what can I sayI cant fit em all inside my ojso I just take half and bust them outI give the rest to master gee so he could shock the houseit was twelve o'clock one friday nightI was rockin to the beat and feelin all righteverybody was dancin on the floordoin all the things they never did beforeand then this fly fly girl with a sexy leanshe came into the bar, she came into the sceneas she traveled deeper inside the roomall the fellas checked out her white sasoonsshe came up to the table, looked into my eyesthen she turned around and shook her behindso I said to myself, its time for me to releasemy vicious rhyme I call my masterpieceand now people in the house this is just for youa little rap to make you boogaloonow the group ya hear is called phase twoand let me tell ya somethin we're a helluva crewonce a week we're on the streetjust a-cuttin' the jams and making it freefor you to party ya got to have the moviesso we'll get right down and give you the groovefor you to dance you gotta get hypeso we'll get right down for you tonightnow the system's on and the girls are thereya definitely have a rockin affairbut let me tell ya somethin there's still one factthat to have a party ya got to have a rapso when the party's over you're makin it homeand tryin to sleep before the break of dawnand while ya sleepin ya start to dreamand thinkin how ya danced on the disco scenemy name appears in your mindyeah, a name you know that was right on timeit was phase two just a doin a dorockin ya down cause ya know we couldto the rhythm of the beat that makes ya freakcome alive girls get on your feetto the rhythm of the beat to the beat the beatto the double beat beat that it makes ya freakto the rhythm of the beat that says ya go onon n on into the break of dawnnow I got a man comin on right nowhe's guaranteed to throw downhe goes by the name of wonder mikecome on wonder mike do what ya likelike a can of beer that's sweeter than honeylike a millionaire that has no moneylike a rainy day that is not wetlike a gamblin fiend that does not betlike dracula with out his fangslike the boogie to the boogie without the boogie banglike collard greens that dont taste goodlike a tree that's not made out of woodlike goin up and not comin downis just like the beat without the sound no soundto the beat beat, ya do the freakeverybody just rock and dance to the beathave you ever went over a friends house to eatand the food just aint no goodI mean the macaroni's soggy the peas are mushedand the chicken tastes like woodso you try to play it off like you think you canby sayin that youre fulland then your friend says momma he's just being politehe aint finished uh uh that's bullso your heart starts pumpin and you think of a lieand you say that you already ateand your friend says man there's plenty of foodso you pile some more on your platewhile the stinky foods steamin your mind starts to dreaminof the moment that it's time to leaveand then you look at your plate and your chickens slowly rottininto something that looks like cheeseoh so you say that's it I got to leave this placeI dont care what these people thinkim just sittin here makin myself nauseouswith this ugly food that stinksso you bust out the door while its still closedstill sick from the food you ateand then you run to the store for quick relieffrom a bottle of kaopectateand then you call your friend two weeks laterto see how he has beenand he says I understand about the foodbaby bubbah but we're still friendswith a hip hop the hippie to the hippiethe hip hip a hop a you dont stop the rockinto the bang bang boogiesay up jump the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie the beatI say hank can ya rockcan ya rock to the rhythm that just dont stopcan ya hip me to the shoobie dooI said come onI go to the halls and then ring the bellbecause I am the man with the clienteleand if ya ask me why I rock so wella big bang, I got clienteleand from the time I was only six years oldI never forgot what I was toldit was the best advice that I ever hadit came from my wise dear old dadhe said sit down punk I wanna talk to youand dont say a word until I'm throughnow there's a time to laugh a time to crya time to live and a time to diea time to break and a time to chillto act civilized or act real illbut whatever ya do in your lifetimeya never let a mc steal your rhymeso from sixty six til this very dayill always remember what he had to sayso when the sucker mcs try to chump my styleI let them know that I'm versatileI got style finesse and a little black bookthat's filled with rhymes and I know you wanna lookbut there's a thing that separates you from meand that's called originalitybecause my rhymes are on from what you heardI didnt even bite and not a god d--m wordand I say a little more later on tonightso the sucker mc's can bite all nighta tick a tock yall a beat beat yalla lets rock yall ya dont stopya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what)ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankindrive off in a def ojeverybody go hotel motel holiday innya say if your girl starts actin up then you take her friendsa like that yall to the beat yallbeat beat yall ya dont stopa master gee am I mellow?its on you so whatcha gonna dowell like johnny carson on the late showa like frankie croker in stereowell like the barkay's singin holy ghostthe sounds to throw down they're played the mostits like my man captain skywhose name he earned with his super spermwe rock and we dont stopget off yall im here to give you whatcha gotto the beat that it makes you freakand come alive girl get on your feeta like a perry mason without a caselike farrah fawcett without her facelike the barkays on the mikelike gettin right down for you tonightlike movin your body so ya dont know howright to the rhythm and throw downlike comin alive to the master geethe brother who rocks so viciouslyI said the age of one my life begunat the age of two I was doin the doat the age of three it was you and merockin to the sounds of the master geeat the age of four I was on the floorgivin all the freaks what they bargained forat the age of five I didnt take no jivewith the master gee its all the way liveat the age of six I was a pickin up sticksrappin to the beat my stick was fixedat the age of seven I was rockin in heaven dontcha know I went offI got right on down to the beat you seegettin right on down makin all the girlsjust take of their clothes to the beat the beatto the double beat beat that makes you freakat the age of eight I was really greatcause every night you see I had a dateat the age of nine I was right on timecause every night I had a party rhymegoin on n n on n on on n onthe beat dont stop until the break of dawna sayin on n n on n on on n on...like a hot buttered de pop de pop de popa saying on n n on n on on n oncause I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mikeI am the definate feast delightcause I'm a helluva man when I'm on the mikeI am the definate feast delightcome to the master gee you seethe brother who rocks so viciously
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (austingriz76 @ Oct 28 2006, 11:58 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}></div><div class='quotemain'>Yeah I heard somebody else wrote it, I thought it was Jack White though. But the way he sings it is kindve creepy. Giving the fact he died not too later after he came out with the song.</div>Agreed that it is a great song. Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails is the one who wrote the song. Both versions of the song are great, but I prefer the Johnny Cash version because when I hear it by him, it feels to me that he knows he is dying and I really feel the emotion in his voice. One of the greatest imo.
Rakim - Lyrics of Fury<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>Verse one:I'm rated "r"...this is a warning, ya better void,Poets are paranoid, dj's d-stroyed,because I came back to attack others in spite-Strike like lightnin', it's quite frightenin'!But don't be afraid in the dark, in a park,Not a scream or a cry, or a bark, more like a spark;Ya tremble like a alcoholic, muscles tighten up,What's that, lighten up! you see a sight but,Suddenly you feel like your in a horror flick,You grab your heart then wish for tomorrow quick!Music's the clue, when I come your warned,Apocolypse now, when I'm done, ya gone!Haven't you ever heard of a mc-murderer?This is the death penalty,and I'm servin' aDeath wish, so come on, step to thisHysterical idea for a lyrical professionist!Friday the thirteenth, walking down elm street,You come in my realm ya get beat!This is off limits, so your visions are blurry,All ya see is the meters at a volume,Pumping lyrics of fury!It's a ....fearified freestyle!Terror in the styles, never error-files,Indeed I'm known-your exiled!For those that oppose to be level or next to this...I ain't a devil and this ain't the exorcist!Worse than a nightmare, you don't have to sleep a wink,The pain's a migraine every time ya think,Flashbacks interfere, ya start to hear:The r-a-k-I-m in your ear;Then the beat is hysterical,That makes eric go get a ax and chops the wack,Soon the lyrical format is superior,Faces of death remain,Mc's decaying, because they never stayed,The scene of a crime every night at the show,The fiend of a rhyme on the mic that you know,It's only one capable, breaks-the unbreakable,Melodies-unmakable, pattern-unecscapable,A horn if want the style I posses,I bless the child, the earth, the gods and bomb the rest,For those that envy a mc it can be,Hazardous to your health so be friendly,A matter of life and death, just like a ethch-a-sketch,Shake 'till your clear, make it disappear, make the next,After the ceremony, let the rhyme rest in peace,If not, my soul'll release!The scene is recreated, reincarnated, updated, I'm glad you made it,because your about to see a disasterous sight,A performance never again performed on a mic:Lyrics of fury!A fearified freestyle!The "r" is in the house-too much tension!Make sure the system's loud when I mentionPhrases that's fearsome...You want to hear some sounds that not only pounds but please your eardrums;I sit back and observe the whole scenery,Then nonchalantly tell you what it mean to me,Strictly business I'm quickly in this mood,And I don't care if the whole crowd's a witness!I'm a tear you apart but I'm a spare you a heart,Program into the speed of the rhyme, prepare to start,Rhythm's out of the radius, insane as the craziestMusical madness mc ever made, see it'sNow an emergency, open-heart surgery...Open your mind, you will find every word'll beFurier than ever, I remain the furture,Battle's tempting...whatever suits ya!For words the sentence, there's no resemblance,You think you're ruffer, then suffer the consequences!I'm never dying-terrifying results,I wake ya with hundreds of thousands of volts,Mic-to-mouth resuscitation, rhythm with radiation,Novicane ease the pain it might save him,If not, eric b.'s the judge, the crowd's the jury...How do I plead to homicide?Lyrics of fury!They're getting furier! a fearified freestyle!</div>
<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE (Justice @ Oct 28 2006, 05:58 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}></div><div class='quotemain'>He didn't write that song, just for reference. It's a Nine Inch Nails cover. Although, I do agree that it's pretty badass.</div>Yeah, I was going to post that too. Nine Inch Nails did a pretty good job, but Johnny Cash's song is better in my opinion, because of what PJ said.
Nas- Ether(one of the best disses I've ever heard)[gunshots][Nas talking]("F*ck Jay-Z")What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talkin 'bout me dogYou, what?("F*ck Jay-Z")You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga("F*ck Jay-Z")[Chorus](I) F*ck with your soul like ether(Will) Teach you the king you know you(Not) "God's son" across the belly(Lose) I prove you lost alreadyBrace yourself for the main eventY'all impatiently waitinIt's like an AIDS test, what's the results?Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and BigAin't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedyI embrace y'all with napalmBlows up, no guts, left chest, face goneHow could Nas be garbage?Semi-autos at your cartilegeBurner at the side of your dome, come outta my throneI got this, locked since '9-1I am the truest, name a rapper that I ain't influencedGave y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the JudasWith Hawaiin Sophie fame, kept my name in his musicCheck it[Chorus][talking]Ay yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these niggas man (no doubt)Ay, y'all faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the fu*kin ring[Chorus]I've been F*cked over, left for dead, dissed and fogottenLuck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rottenY'all just piss on me, sh*t on me, spit on my grave (uh)Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my faceY'all some "well wishers," friendly actin, envy hidin snakesWith your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?When these streets keep callin, heard it when I was sleepThat this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beefStarted cockin up my weapon, slowly loadin up this ammoTo explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handleThis for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound stupidWhen KRS already made an album called BlueprintFirst, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than BigDick suckin lips, whyn't you let the late, great veteran live[talking](I...will...not...lose)"God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost alreadyThe king is back, where my crown at?(Ill...will) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas[Chorus]Y'all niggas deal with emotions like bitchesWhat's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brotherYou traded your soul for richesMy child, I've watched you grow up to be famousAnd now I smile like a proud dad, watchin his only son that made itYou seem to be only concerned with dissin womenWere you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject meOr make records to disrespect me, blatent or indirectlyIn '88 you was gettin chased through your buildinCallin my crib and I ain't even give you my numbersAll I did was gave you a style for you to run withSmilin in my face, glad to break bread with the godWearin Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no carsNo jail bars Jigga, no pies, no caseJust Hawaiian shirts, hangin with little ChaseYou a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a StanI still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate classYou Tae-bo hoe, tryna' work it out, you tryna' get brolic?Ask me if I'm tryna' kick knowledgeNah, I'm tryna' kick the sh*t you need to learn thoughThat ether, that sh*t that make your soul burn slowIs he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's PuffyRockafeller died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapterAnd that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after?Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellasAnd now y'all try to take my spot, fellas?Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellasIn a pine box with nine shots from my glock, fellasFoxy got you hot 'cause you kept your face in her pussWhat you think, you gettin girls now 'cause of your looks?Ne-gro pleaseYou no mustache havin, with whiskers like a ratCompared to Beans you wackAnd your man stabbed Un and made you take the blameYou ass, went from Jaz to hangin with Caine, to Herb, to BigAnd, Eminem murdered you on your own sh*tYou a dick-ridin faggot, you love the attentionQueens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell SimmonsHa, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quickJ.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quickYour whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quickShaun Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dickSo little shorty's gettin gunned up and clapped quickHow much of Biggie's rhymes is gon' come out your fat lips?Wanted to be on every last one of my classicsYou pop sh*t, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss
motion city soundtrack- Let's get F*cked up and Die<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>Let's get F*cked up and die. I am speaking figuratively of course. Like the last time that I committed suicide. "Social suicide." Yeah, so I'm already dead, On the inside but I can still pretend. With my memories and photographs I have learned to love the lie. I want to know what its like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent I want to know how it feels to be useful and pertinent and have common sense,yeah.Let me in, let me into the club 'cause I want to belong, And I need to get strong.And if memory serves I'm addicted to words And they're useless...in this department. Let's get F*cked up and die. I'm riding hard on the last legs of every lie. And the BMX bike of my life is about to explode. I'm about to explode. I'm a mess I'm a wreck. I am perfect and I have learned to accept. All my problems and shortcomings 'cause I'm so visceral, yet deeply inept. I want to thank you for being a part of my. "Forget me nots and marigolds and other things that dont get old." Is it legal to do this? I surely dont know. It's the only way I have learned to express myself, Through other peoples descriptions of life. I'm afraid, I'm alone and entirely useless...in this department. Let's get F*cked up and die. For the last time with feelings we'll try not to smile. As we cover our heads and drink heavily into the nights that still shock and surprise. I believe that I can overcome this and beat everything in the end. But I choose to abuse for the time being. Maybe I'll win. But for now I've decided to die. Sister soldier you've been such a positive influence on my mental frame. If I could ever repay you I would but I'm hard up for cash and my memory lacks initative. Goddamn the liquor store's closed we were so close to scoring. It hurts, it destroys 'til it kills. I am tired and hungry and totally useless...in this department.</div>Armor For Sleep- Being Your Walls<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>Pull your arms up around your knees,And hide out inside your room,Pretend you can't feel at all,Just realize that I know how, you feel now.If all I am is distraction for you then I can't complain,That you can't feel something for me,Take all you can find in me,Can you think back to when things worked?When dreams were the days you lived,When you never cried alone,Just realize that I know how, you feel now.If all I am is distraction for you then I can't complain,That you can't feel something for me,Take all you can find in me.</div>Name Taken- Hold On for Dearest Life<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>You break me in two, tear me intoYou looking back regretting every moveAnd I?m wearing thin, but they?re not wearing outTime takes its toll and the distance is greaterLoss of control, we lost itTake what you want from meAnd I think I can?t feel anymore Take what you want from me And I can?t, I can?t think anymoreHeld down so tight and tired Hold on for your dearest lifeI do as you say not as you?ve done (chanted)Hold on for your dearest lifeI do as you say not as you?ve done (chanted)Hold on, hold onLoss of control, we lost itTake what you want from meAnd I think I can?t feel anymore Take what you want from me And I can?t, I can?t think anymoreDare I slow down and turn to paperFolding end over end?..overflow</div>
Souther Takeover by Chamillionaire feat. Killer Mike and Pastor Troy<div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>"Southern Takeover"(feat. Killer Mike, Pastor Troy)[Intro]Gun cocking, shots fired.[Chamillionaire]The sound of revenge, haha.Woo, tell em what it is mayne (tell em what it is).[Pastor Troy]Welcome to the New World Order.Atlanta, Georgia.[Chamillionaire]Houston, Texas, he already know.[Pastor Troy]The south is takin over.[Chorus x2 - Chamillionaire]Just look over your shoulder (shoulder)Let me see who just showed up (showed up)It's the southern takeover (its over)You betta tell em I got dreams to stand on top, try and stop (pop pop pop)[Killer Mike]It's the mister fo fifth told emCookin coke with baking sodaDub roller, pro smokerWood gripper, pistol whipper.Muck a nigga if he figureF**kin with my figures.Makes him richer, he should know.Instead, it'll make him better than a money f**kin with my money.Get yo money stacked right outta sunday schoolOn a bright and sunny sunday.This ain't funny.I ain't jokin bout my coke and package come up shorter.Might kidnap yo wife and daughter.Bury them down deep in Georgia.No D.A.s a f**kin lawyer prosecutin witnesses.We excutin, start the shootin, start the lukin,Start the violence, start a riot.Get this Motherf*cker crunker, crunk as you can get it.Pass that dro, I'm a hit it.Outta line, we gon spit it,spit it vivid, cause I live it.You don't walk it, you just talk it.Pistol totin, and a loadin.That's how smokin got this dopeAnd I aint hopin, steady slanginRight on yo trappa block.Take your track, set up shop.Try and stop (pop pop pop).[Chorus][Chamillionaire]Hey hey, this ain't about an image.This ain't about a gimmick.P**sys stand to the side.Now the game got a menace.I damn seen a city that I think is not the realest.We bummin on his ass.He ain't finishin his sentence.I only got a minute.I feelin about a digit.You lookin at a nigga like I ain't about to get it.I'm lookin at the money like I ain't about to finish.You need to mind your business.If you ain't about your business.I'm a H-town soldier.I'm a come with the trunk up yeah I'm a gon remind ya.If you ain't gettin it you shoulda told ya father.Nigga chamillionaire never show no problems.You don't want no problem (problem).Get em g'ed shoulda let the fo fo remind em.Ya you tip on the ride em.I be ridin fo fos on the door beside em.6' 6" tall lookin like he a center.10 tatoos lookin like he a killa.Skinny ass niggas don't fight with a nigga.Pull out a billfold, put a price on a nigga.I have this camp fo put a knife in a nigga.From the car to his pocket then right in your liver.Was a big boy that put a slice in the middle.Ya head fast think you hold a mike with the killa.Don't mess with the south homie, thats a dream,Hallucinate or imagining so.Double XL with the gats I mean,Keep somethin ready to blow in the magazine.And you know that southern cash is mean.Franklins frown for me when I stash my cream.Pull up in candy paint that match my green.Killer, Pastor, and Koopa are the master machine.[Chorus][Pastor Troy]Y'all know me, it's PT.Well I hunt and all of that,Black on black, with black tip.I can't help but represent.I'm not content, I want more.Who the f**k you take me for?Studio rappers not the fortay.I drop my top and bust my AK.No mo play, nigga NGA.Yeah, that's a classic.Ridin in the classic.Tote a mill, and I blast em.Send em to the casket.Send em to the morgue.Slap me a nigga cause I'm motherf**kin bored.Chamillionaire, I camoflouge in my surrounding.Get my desert E's and get to motherf**kin poundin.Up and down the streets,Throwin heat, out the driver's seat,Ridin to the beat,Tell them nigga just lay weak.[Chorus x2]</div>
