St. John
St. John is a collaboration of longtime friends Rich St. John Trapp, Bob Mair, and Nick Vincent. Best known for the classic, oldschool West Coast sonics (Mairi and Vincent), and the lyrics and flow of their namesake frontman (Trapp), the group became a favorite of the indie hip-hop underground when their songs started breaking into popular TV shows of the early 2000s. This year, fans can look forward to expanded releases of their original albums on top of some never-before released bangers from their archives. Contact: [email protected]
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Ain't Supposed To Do
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Bad Kids, Boastful, Boom Box, Bouncy, Bragger, Breaking Rules, City, College, Drinking, Drugs, Flirtatious, Fun, Gang, Getting In Trouble, Good Time, Groove, Naughty, Old School, Party, Playing Tricks, Prankster, Street, Swagger, Teen, Trickster, Trouble Makers
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
D
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Ain't Supposed To Do
AINT SUPPOSED TO DO
Chorus
The greatest feelin that you ever knew
Is doin what you aint supposed to do
Foolin your dad or messin with your brother
Is fun until you get busted by your mother
Tyin the dog to the neighbors cat
Now you know your gonna get in big trouble for that
But sometimes a guys gotta break the rules
Doin what you aint supposed to do
Verse 1
Late one Saturday evening rollin around the hood
You wont believe what I was seein
The first thing I saw was a couple of hustlers
Shootin craps mouths yappin like a couple of busters
Sippin on something from a brown bag
They had chains round they neck and they looked real mad
Hey shorty whats your name keep a look out
I said my mom said I had to go to a cook out
He said listen up quick you could make some money
Buy something nice for that little cute honey
His breath smelled kinda messed up and funny
So I ran down the street left him lookin like a dummy
Everywhere I go in my neighborhood
Theres always someone tryin to get me up to no good
I cant hide up in my house stay away from my crew
So tell me what the heck am I supposed to do
CHORUS
Verse 2
Tell me what youd do if you were little old me
All at home alone and I spy some keys
I wanna roll out lookin key low g
So I roll into my room strap jordans on my feet
Start up moms car and im playin some beats
Next thing you know im rollin down the street
Everybody seems like theyre lookin at me
I drive up real slow to this girl I see
Shes lookin real nice on her ten speed
I said get in lets go downtown
She looked at me like I was kind of a clown
Boy don't you know you bout toi get pulled over
Rollin all slow in that busted up nova
I looked behind me and what did I see
But those red and blue lights catchin up to me
The only thing I though about was my moms
And when I got home shes gonna drop the bomb
CHORUS
All Up In That
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Back Alley, Booty, Bump And Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Downtown, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Kinky, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, NYC, Nasty, Neo Electro, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Sexual, Sexy, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Tough, Twerk, Upbeat
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
129
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
All Up In That
All Up In That
I'm all up in that
All up in that
Give it to me girl
She make me wanna flow
She make me wanna go
Verse 1
Sneak into the spot late night like I rock
Stick stuck stock tickin
Let me get that finger lickin pop
Nerdy girls actin like they're ho's
I get up in that body like nitro
Feel that bass and lick your toes
Twist beats & drinkin booze
Make you lose your socks & shoes
All up in the house of blues
So many 10's I get to choose
All up in em like kangaroos
I hit it and I quit it and I never lose
Up in sugar walls in ya bed
Give it to me yall white black or red
Chorus
Verse 2
Frequently fliptastic
Move that body like its plastic
Black toast another classic
When we rock these beats its spastic
Triangulate the way these haters skate up on my stick
Pop and lock and freeze got that lollipop to lick
Chorus
Verse 3
I'm not sayin get on your knees
But like a spliff you got me lit
I'm bout to dip you lick you like special sauce
Brush them teeth and make you floss
Smack that uhh
Chorus
Baby You're My VIP
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Flirtatious, Hip, Hot, Laid Back, MC, Playful, Relationship, Romantic, Sensual, Sexy, Smooth, Soulful, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Baby You're My VIP
BABY YOU'RE MY VIP
CHORUS
Tell me what you want from me
I can be your everything
I just want you close to me
Baby you're my VIP
You can call me day or night
Girl I wanna treat you right
I just want you close to me
Baby you're my VIP
Late summer afternoon boom
Zoomin in on an innocent face no trace of the streets
Never chased by police not creased by defeat
Beats hang in the air like heat lets meet in the corner
And discuss something maybe you got me locked down
Looking for something I used to mess around get player hated
Now I need a fresh girl that's sophisticated
Now I take you to the next level stay away from devils
I know how they hustle cause I used to hustle too
Coming up tough ain't nothing else to do
I'm tired of the schemin' yes I want to act true
Look into my eyes boo you know what to do
You and me alone without the rest of my crew
CHORUS
I used to hop fences now I drop my defenses
It senseless way these jokers try to run game
I'll take you away we'll never be the same
I try to talk soft get you next to me
When I feel you close it's like ecstasy
It vexes me can't fight destiny
You always been my little VIP
You see you make want to take it to the next degree
Jet down to Jamaica feel finally free
Smoke a little something talk philosophy
When I look into your face girl I start to dream
About how we can make it
I never ever fake it got no time to mistake it
You my little VIP girl let's see where we can take it
This is destiny
CHORUS
I never thought I'd make it to the top like this
I put you at the top of my list and pop cris
Now everybody put your hands up make a fist
Dedicated to my lady waitin for me
Patient for me when I'm on the road
Making that cheese waitin for seeds
To carry on my legacy to the nth degree
I'm a real man mic stand true MC
CHORUS
Back Against The Wall
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Chaos, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Promo, Scary, Sports, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Back Against The Wall
BACK AGAINST THE WALL
Chorus
Propaganda make my heart beat faster
Running and gunnin im done in with the same life
Son caught between a rock and the game
Harder than I am one man comin with the same plan
Hot damn broke down folks say god bless ya then stress
Ya distress ya confess that my chest is distressed I cant breathe
Seize upon my need to escape the same fate
Maybe money mention heavy debted did I said it
Yes I must because I thrust myself and let it out quick
Sand in which I stand a situation Benjamin chasing facing one year up to life
Mental trigger picture bigger things than hustling and strife
Up against the ropes dope dealer nope
Rock another boat three situations got me chasing
On probation failing falling finally fed up sick cycle in the cut
Got this feeling in my gut that im stuck land of the free
Cant disagree but somes trapped got to find my way
Now its 3 am in the morning theres a warning bell ringing in my head said im sick of doing stick ups but im dead if my man cant make it
Take it underground and wait
Chorus
Heavy cats in undercover caps and all I wanna do is relax
And vibe ou kick hard like the bass and sharp like the flip
Recapitulation takes discipline participating such such
Mentally tough aint afraid of enough june gloom boom boom
Sunny disguised money in the symphony
Fool im strength and smoke whispers and solidity
Random destiny strewn street thoughts beat me in punches
Im possibly a mystery life is complicated sometimes
I sedate it I waited too long now im gone
Unless I bust these hustles and its on gotta use some muscle
And I gotta live long song of the ancients in my blood strong
Now I make my move prove that im righteous fight this feeling
Til im wheeling im gone hunches past assumptions
Amd im done with frontin kid visions of apocalypse burst
From the lips of misfits I have risen and arosen
The last amongst the chosen feel as if im frozen
Stuck against the bricks backed up and im sick of feeling
Dismissed yes even by my misses now the list as long
As history gotta make a monument of flow
Bang Bang 4 Life
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Hood, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bang Bang 4 Life
BANG BANG 4 LIFE
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
Let me come out this hood for a minute
Do or die time and I spit the gift magnificent
Trucks we lift puffin on an l sippin on a 5th
With my silhouette tilted to the right or left
I live with death and don't hold my breath
At the bottom of the cliff there'll be no one left
That's what I said to myself as is shifted and raced up the fire escape
Time to give chase and I shoot the first face that is see in the window
Hold up hold up with your arms akimbo
Begging for mercy ya see the laser scope
Don't try to act like you didn't sell me bad dope
The test came clean that was all she wrote
Some video scene hiding bags in speed boats
One full of money and the other full of kilos
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I shoulda known by the trick ass look in your eye
That you was lookin for fame and you were ready to die
Known this hooker named dane hid a razor blade
In a personal place send her up to your place
No time to waste no time to debate
When I see the light flash that's the signal to dash
Pump up pump up and then grab my cash
As soon as I reached the top man I heard a scream
Rushed through the glass and an incredible scene
Was seen by my eyes I thought it was a dream
She had him strung up wearing panties and lace
When she start to cut that's when he saw my face
Begging to breathe and he was down on his knees
I had to let him know that it was duck huntin season
Reason by reason he tried to explain
Told me his name and where he hid the cocaine
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
I bang bang for life
I'm in the set for life
I got this rep for life
I'm in the hood tonight
Bang Shoot Shoot
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Laid Back, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
80
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bang Shoot Shoot
BANG SHOOT SHOOT
Bang shoot shoot
Insomniac smoking crack
Bang shoot shoot
Cold hard fact, can't look back
Bang shoot shoot
Drive by twice, deny 'em life
Bang, shoot shoot, bang
Bang whistle whistle pistol make a missile
Seem obsolete I'm hard on the street
Hot as heat to compete complete
Sliding newborn clips into the dips
I call my honey beat rhythm I call livin'
Cause I get my hustle fitfully
Respect no checks straight chips then sex
Yes stack 'em straight to the ceiling of my safe my fate
Is adrenaline complete as I keep my feet movin'
On the sidewalks with chalk outlines
Of loud talking individuals ain't gonna get residuals
The digital code set from my man just jetted
I wetted this one kid just to turn my first bid
Nailed on the coffin now I'm coughin' from puffin on the L
In hell I reside
Bang shoot shoot
Insomniac smoking crack
Bang shoot shoot
Cold hard fact can't look back
Bang shoot shoot
Drive by twice deny 'em life
Bang, shoot shoot, bang
No pride just ride to the east side
Away from the west side
You best hide I made my mind up
Keep the supposition put in position make some friction
127th back eleventh I got the freak freak juice
to let ya loose ya want proof? I got suits in the trunk
any size you want might have a hole in 'em mama please don't cry
do or die in the dungeon of the devil as I'm lungin'
at the level just to keep my head swiveled to the left
now turn to the right night seems to ignite verbal dynamite
I might pull a smoke mission listen render renditionless
Division come from fusion no illusion I'm the chosen one
Bang shoot shoot
Insomniac smoking crack
Bang shoot shoot
Cold hard fact can't look back
Bang shoot shoot
Drive by twice deny 'em life
Bang, shoot shoot, bang
Beat Of The Street
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Beat Street, Boom Box, Breakin', Celebration, Club, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Old School, Party, Radio, Sexual, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard, Synthesizer
BPM:
132
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Beat Of The Street
BEAT OF THE STREET
CHORUS
It's the beat of the street
We gonna keep on movin yeah we aint gonna stop the groovin
It's the beat of the street
We gonna keep on poppin there aint no stopping us
VERSE 1
Up lock around the block
Non stop movin cuz my crew don't stop
Bring it all night ima bout to pop
Crazy on the dance floor they want more
Yo homeboy what ya lookin at
Tease your girl like a kitty cat
Ya know she gonna wanna gimme that
My styles so fresh and my laces fat
If ya wanna battle then I got the map
Six step the top rock centipede when im in the spot
Rock steady comin heavy
Papi you aint really ready
Me and the crew got the old school chevy's
Back front side to side
I even pop lock in the ride
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Don't come up in my hood now I thought you understood
Now freeze lock breakers get in your spot
Windmills butterfly kicks fakers punks gonna make you quit
When I throw that turtle all in the mix
Suicide like karate flicks
Swipe flare shuffle step
We number one cuz you know the rep
Two turntables and you start to sweat
Never gonna be that crazy set
Head lock while we down lock
We in control when we in the spot
Dj keep that beat on top
Hope this beat don't stop
Chorus
VERSE 3
YO Bboys and bgirls
Now pop lock all around the world
We keep it street we rock the beat
We got the style and the moves are sweet
Octopus to the king tut
What ya know about the robot what
Smooth it out struttin poppin
Boogaloo and we boogy down
Backslide to the moon walk
How we move how we talk
You might get an electric shock
Robot all up and down my spot
CHORUS
Big And Bad
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Boastful, Boom Box, Bouncy, City, Club, College, Drinking, Drugs, Energetic, Energy, Flirtatious, Fun, Funky, Gang, Girls, Good Time, Groove, Hot, Old School, Party, Playful, Positive, Retro, Sexy, Street, Swagger, Upbeat
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Big And Bad
BIG AND BAD
Chorus
Im big and bad
Im big and bad
The best thing you wish that you ever had
Repeat
Verse 1
Im rockin never jockin walkin down the block
With no laces in my shoes rollin with my crews
Pickin up those honeys cause they know im makin money
But they always talking something funny
Man I aint no dummy
I got the biggest baddest super raddest
Sounds of the street
And I can make the whole world
Nod their heads to this beat
Why ya think that im so super duper like superman
Cause im fresh to death in my b-boy stance
Chorus
Verse 2
Don't you try to test me cause you know
Ill knock you out
I got a four finger ringer
And you know I got clout
All you other wack mc's tryin to get to me
Take a number stand in line cause im tnt
All the players and the pimps step aside on the street
Cause im a bad old busta and I cant be beat
Now wave your hands in the air if youre feelin the drop
I am the king of the mic king of hip hop
All you breakers and DJ'S come and get with me
I am the best I am the baddest O.G. MC
And when you see me turn it out
That's when youll start to believe
That im the ruler of the block king of the streets
Blacktop Jungle
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Blacktop Jungle
BLACKTOP JUNGLE
It's a blacktop non stop junglistic hip hop
Hustlers and pimps use the city as a backdrop
Addicts get high in the backlot, dealers use kids as a lookout a lot
You got fiends stealing as they pop off a shot
You got three time losers sunset cruisers big boy bruisers
Sunset cruisers the freaks and the shady occupy the same spot
Drivin' around black and you know you get stopped
Propositioned by an undercover cop
You bound to get a lesson that you never even thought
Mind and time get dropped the weak get soft
Men in positions of sedition get caught
Violation of volition extreme conditions
The fiends they glisten like a dream from the distance
The mean and the listless the homeless in business
That man holds his hand outstretched for a reason
Its drive by season in Los Angeles
CHORUS
It's a blacktop jungle and it's dangerous
So many out here act scandalous get out your danger kits
Can you handle this its Los Angeles home of the vandalous
Get out your danger kits where a stranger gets
Rearranged and hit on sunset strip where the strippers do flips
Smoke in the alley Friday night rally girls in the valley
Do blow you know don't get caught up in the mountains of snow
People shot up with the fame it grows fast as the mighty Mississippi flows
Don't act like you don't see crack and smoke in fact it'll make you
Insane and choke act insane and then murder she wrote
Up that creek with no paddle and no boat yeyo oh no it's a non-stop show
All you can do is be true and flow this big city livin goes fast not slow
People live and die by a yes and a no in Los Angeles
CHORUS
In the blacktop jungle man that's how it goes
You see people mumble and the trouble it grows
Mass populations the Haitians the Christians
Jews Palestinians the Indian nation the ground vibrates
In the golden state the gangs carry heat to hit people they hate
Times up oh no too late don't debate
Cash and corruption and chaos create
A date to arrange with the master of fate
Side step please step don't walk don't talk
Sidewalk spot outlined in chalk
On the five o'clock news watch crews get caught
CHORUS
Booty Call
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard A Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Comedy, Hip Hop, Male Vocal, Rap, Ringtone
Keywords:
Booty Call, Call, Comedy, Comical, Flirtatious, Fun, Funny, Goofy, Late Night, Naughty, Phone Call, Playful, Raunchy, Sexting, Sexual, Silly, Tongue in Cheek
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
BPM:
95
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Bump Bump Bump
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bump Bump Bump
BUMP BUMP BUMP
CHORUS
Come on come on gimme a bump bump bump
Everybody in the club with the bump bump bump
We gonna get high yeah we gonna get it done
Come on come on and just bump bump bump
VERSE 1
You need a grown man like me white tee icey
Just to get the ladies play like a wifie
Only for one night see nike's pricey
I like them moves spicy don't act sheisty
Have you dropped spinnin in the middle of the room
Like whoops wow whered he go hear me on the radio
Top of this hip hop flip and we don't stop
See yall players playing like you got game
Maybe I look the same when I try to come up
But now you see my whole crew runnin big black trucks
Range rovers pimp like the hove would
Now you understand my hustling ways
I made good so keep it up pimp keep shakin little shorty
Keep it old school on the stoop drinkin 40's
Always keep my eyes peeled back drop authorities
Keep numbers flipped swiss bank its priority
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Walk with a little limp just talk a little bit
When beats bouncing in the club its legitimate
How you gonna look so smooth those moves so rude
Lets prove we could do this all night
One hand on my drink others feelin allright
Its so locked down its like critical
Get you back to the pad get physical
Smoke greens you aint seen aint typical
Keep it bumpin in the club like a ritual
Swing it back swing it close get them visuals
How you gonna sneak up freak up tilt cup back
Till you finish that glass of champagne high class thing
No need to be ashamed
You got what god gave ya make that brain insane
But anyway seen yesterday on the runway
Don't believe what they say no gun play
CHORUS
I aint come up in the club lookin for the right love
Gonna keep it tight body fittin like a glove
Sittin in VIP lookin from above
When you see me in the cut bump bump bump bump bump
CHORUS
Bust Out
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Cop Show, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bust Out
BUST OUT
CHORUS
Bust out why saying something
What you need something
Make you bleed some gimme a reason
Then ill freeze em then ill leave em screaming in the street
VERSE 1
Bust out of the gate straight waitin for a fool to approach
Then I burn em like toast I don't mean to boast but you cant get close
See those homies in the window with the finger on the trigger
I know you think big but my crew thinks bigger
How you think the lifers in the joint get high
One guard has product others turn a blind eye
If you try to interrupt then you know you gonna die
Soldiers in the street never gonna ask why movin pounds of product
From Bronx to bed-stuy put it in the trunk act crunk
We drunk in the club nearly every night
Dip in the whip 500 lookin tight takin care of business
In the city tonight gotta heater for your ass if you aint lookin right
Uptown downtown all around town
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I peel off caps like I was a bald head
Was it something that I said make you crawl back into bed
I got a lead missile comin at ya pop pop
Then im in the street when they all drop drop
Got no love for cops they say stop stop
I know they profilin when they stop and see me smiling
Don't get caught in long island unless your papers straight
I been known to move weight from state to state
Been known to rock a mic make the crowd vibrate
Learned from a young age I was meant to take the stage
But I still got rage to make the front page don't think that
I slipped so im soft if its on then im off that's why im paid
Sharp as a razor blade that's why im paid
Uptown downtown all around town
CHORUS
Check U Out
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Club, Flirtatious, Fun, Party, Playful, Radio, Relationship, Romantic, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
110
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Check U Out
CHECK U OUT
Chorus
I wanna check u out
U gonna check me out
I get to know you
Want to know just what youre all about
V1
Check this out in a matter of about
Five minutes attendance is increased
In the party rock your body from the north to the east
Lookin so smooth like luxury
Im a pimp on the inside chill on the out
No doubt head spinnin when the lights go out
Pop pop lazer gazer cut like razors
Thick in the blazer do me a favor
Chorus
V2
Spottin pon the body girl hit them curves
Tight like eerrtt hold up wait stay up get up
Oh snap like whips goin 126 blacktop or bricks
I wanna check how she grips how she turn the corner
Will she stay up or flip if we go real fast will she start to slip
I aint playin girl talking about drivin the whip on the 101
Goin about 126
I don't act real slick no need for that it's the way that your eyes flash
Christmas In The Hood
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45%
Category:
Holiday
Subcategories:
1980s, 1990s, Christmas, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Boom Box, Bouncy, Celebration, Cheer, Christmas, City, College, Elf, Elves, Energetic, Energy, Exciting, Family, Fun, Good Time, Groove, Groovy, Happy Holidays, Old School, Party, Playful, Positive, Presents, Presents Under The Tree, Radio, Retro, Santa Claus, Sleigh, Snow, Snowmen, Spirit, Street, Swagger, Teen, Upbeat, Urban, Winter
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Sleigh Bells, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Christmas In The Hood
I been around the globe
Like you thought I would
Now I'm back with the fam
Christmas in the Hood
I been all around the city
And it's understood
That we blessed and so fresh
Christmas in the Hood
So yo approach real close
And listen up real good
If you down with the sound
Christmas in the Hood
HO HO HO yo what did I see
It was a bunch of little dudes
Runnin' around in the street
They had pointy ears and funny hats
And bells on their feet
I was trippin' maybe flippin'
Oh snap! Its Christmas eve
As I approached now they done ghosted
Disappeared in the breeze
I put down what I'd been drinking
To myself I started thinking
Are those lights that I see blinking
Up there in the sky
And now walkin' down the block
Here go those 3 Wise Guys
Now Granny hookin' up those ham hocks green beans
Turkey stuffin' there's my cousin smells like evergreens
Those stockings hanging up they are my Aunt Irene's
And yo coolin' on the couch was this dude I'd never seen
He had a big white beard & a big jelly belly
Sippin' egg nog with my favorite Aunt Nelly
I said where you from man now you look real cold
He said you could find him kickin' it up at the North Pole
I said welcome back Cringle he said its all good
This is my new jam man CHRISTMAS IN THE HOOD
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Some mistletoe and a kiss on the cheek
Mistletoe Mistletoe HO
Mistletoe Mistletoe HO
City Of Love
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Cruising, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Love, Night Club, Party, Radio, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer, Vocoder
BPM:
92
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
City Of Love
CITY OF LOVE
Need soul medicine from the soul veterans
Already struggling but heart keeps bubbling
The system is in trouble but it always has been
Im a madman thinking about the badman
Probably didn't have a father so hes kinda sad man
Seeing pimps and hustlers is coming up big
And that's the only influence for these truant kids
I know you gotta get paper somewhere
Anythings better than nothing im not frontin
I wanna be something something bend your knees
Start jumping twist some trees im loving
Theres a breeze and a dozen of my cousins
Feel peace spread love on the streets
Chorus
All my brothers and sisters make their way on the streets
Lookin' out for tomorrow, holding onto their dreams
They just keep on trying, is it ever enough
It's a war of survival in this city of love
Hip hop and shots on the block
Struggle concentrated down in one particular spot
Tales of young males and how they got got
But instead of meditating concentrating on the deficit
Think about the past and how you gonna last and
How you gonna come up with your brain not blasting
Be a gentleman with the women old fashioned start mashin
And smashin it up we know fascists wanna trash this
Make labor cheaper keep your head educated
Only method demonstrated for the get ups
Put em up shut em up fast whips
From legitimate businesses first class citizens
Chorus
Bridge
Don't worry baby, it's gonna be alright
Time equals money and moneys in my head
Everybody saying theyd be better off dead
Whos they whats this seems kinda ludicrous
Pump ya fists if you know just what im saying
Get down on our knees and start praying
Maybe thugs will just stop spraying
I know its not realistic im just saying
Everybody stand up and stop playing
RAST
Crack in the Street
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Laid Back, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
94
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Crack in the Street
CRACK IN THE STREET
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Every heat in the laps with enough street caps
To make that mistake gun claps no daps
To make fools of an enemy hustler
Bustler just to make a buster trust her
Take a permanent nap now I got a backpack
At the pad with the rad semiautomatic fad
Of these kids with mad dreams fiending for the stream of
Greenbacks snatched from the midst of adolescence
With no repentance shorty call the crew back
Ain't no amount of crack gonna get your life back
Told you once I'm the mack of this game
Slap you with the shame same
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Laid back I'm the mack don't hate just get a sack
Of the doja I told ya I'd be back you know me 6'5" live
At the wide down electric its hectic its misfits with no business
Get ya hustle move on we at the long beach side of the song
I'm the bomb funkadelic if I tell it be too nasty she asked me
Yo you know where I could get that rock from?
Talk about prolifically said you no go in the side of the snow
Cook it up and rocked talking automatic walkin' talkin' crazy shiznit
Get with bizzel trick I nizzell slick substance
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
It's not the roughness just the justice
I just want to get the rough biz but my cousin
Lives in that same insane the same vein
Like a thief addicted to relief hell steal the seat
From under your peeps it's the old school pimp flow
Just to let you know know
I do get the dough dough oh so opposite
Of slow soul so I get a runnin' of a dozen
Sacks of that soul substance jack
Now my backs tweaked deep like a knife
In the back of another crackhead beds made might sleep
But I thought I saw these fools creep
After me in the laid back chevy that's heavy
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
She got a big big belly messin' with this kid named Delly
Pumpin' sytems with that Nelly now you damned smelly
Can't get no relief in the crack strewn streets now my peace
Is this piece that I keep with me on the daily gotta fight like Israeli
Soldiers I told ya I hold the head of my man fed lead in his system
Two in the leg one in the chest no protection no resurrection
For this chosen direction perfection this lesson is lessened by these
Same seeds guessin' get life lessons from the grip of a gun
And it ain't no fun runnin' these streets tryin' to get relief
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Crack in the street, too much heat
I can't get no relief
It's gonna run you down to the ground
'Til you can't make another sound
Creepin'
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Cop Show, Dark, Death, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Party, Prison, Scary, Sex, Shooting, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
89
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Creepin'
CREEPIN'
CHORUS
Creepin' creepin' I'm part of the streets
And ima keep holdin' heat till im six feet deep
Preachin' preachin' I'm holdin' this beat
And ima keep the body rockin' from your head to your feet
Verse 1
I been so long on the street
I got scars where my soul used to be
From CP to LBC im a freak
And you can catch me by the side of the road
I make em scream make ya fall out ya jeans
'cause im a hood so clean in a '62
continental creep with a lean so mean
I can never be stopped even in dreams
Even fiends think about the way
I cook up the product I wont lie
I got devils pie piece of narcotics
And I been shot up getting caught up in the game
Do or die never wondered why
God gave me wings and ima fly
Can't keep my eyes dry when I think about
The drive by put my mans soul in the sky
One night in Bed-Sty
Ima keep on pushin keep on sellin my position
Im a blacktop magician
An attack dog im vicious
Im intelligent seditious
It's a dangerous condition
CHORUS
Try and touch me where im livin
'cause I know that I been givin gifts
im steady even with a fifth of Henny in me belly
im so gully I got Nelly yellin Hip Hop Hip Hop
don't stop undercover like Tupac
im makin' ya knees knock keep it all froze game caught
in a headlock sayin please don't stop
'til you reach the top and you got
5 lives to try make nothing different
and you get no independence
mind locked like 5th amendments
ima count you in attendance
only if you pay attention
I done told you I was st.john
Engine precision im dishin out the wishin
And im switchin what im hittin
Cause its serious
CHORUS
C Ya N Tha Club
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Cop Show, Dark, Death, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Intimate, Kinky, Mean, Nasty, Ominous, Party, Prison, Scary, Sex, Shooting, Southern Crunk, Street, Strip Club, Swervin, Syrup, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
115
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
C Ya N Tha Club
C YA IN THA CLUB
CHORUS
See you in the club roll up deuce deuce
Ya got me so loose like a 100 proof
Smoking that dub right there in the booth
Spotlight shinin on my diamond tooth
VERSE 1
Swerving sippin syrup turning up the wrong way sippin Bombay
Ounce of that good californi-a my papers straight
Gotta move that weight chick chick bow please don't get in my way
Im real chillaxed but I just don't play
See me on the cover of a mag someday
I script hits flip get paid chicks on tip get laid
Slip fat bricks don't trip that fits lips spread thick
Im sick like Rick on the tape now hold up wait a minute
The club look right with you up in it
Dj spin it ima hit then I quit it
But im so smooth got a bottle of champagne
I show and prove
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Hey girl let me get up in ya world
Let me stroke them curls ask ya girls
If they wanna rock get up in the yacht tonight
I go so slow cause im nasty im a pro
I smoke like c-lo and those other brothers know
I got whole teams in kitchens cookin up that snow
A man gotta eat roll Bentleys roll up the sleeves
Pull out the heat this aint a video cuz
Keep it on the street hand me that blunt ima start to chief
I love ya girl specially when ya freak
Time to sneak back in the club we so twisted
CHORUS
VERSE 3
That mammy look so saucy
Classy on the street but you a freak
Let me put you on my dime
For about a week cause you a dime piece
Sexy text me then caress me
Baby I got plenty left
Let me get dressed cuz im fresh to death
CHORUS
Da Joint
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Getting High, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street, Weed
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Da Joint
DA JOINT
Roll it up - twist it up - light it up -in the spot - spark it spark it
CHORUS:
Just roll stuff up, don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot and smoke da joint
Just roll that stuff up, don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot and smoke da joint
Ain't nothin' wrong with stayin' blazed, purple haze
At beginning or the middle or the end of the day
I could straight smoke 'til I don't know my name
Met this girl in Amsterdam, said her name was Elaine, at the cafe'
Sun rays on my brain - I knew I could say somethin' to straight bump and maintain -- i said "Let's roll up and then ride the train"
We laughed and did the math and said, naw man it's rainin'
Took me up the stairs, jumped out the underwear
Smoked the se nsemilla, said I had to compare, two taste-tests
No rest, she's impressed, I been the champion number 1
And ever since I discovered that the weed'll get it done
Natural aphrodisiac and spectacular
Love on the woman as you flip the vernacular
CHORUS
Late at night like and the stars stare back atcha
Jesus was a dread and he smoked down in Afrikka
Tell it to a Senate that hemps our progenitor
What you think the Constitution's written on?
What ya think Washington was growin', what I'm hittin' on
What you think every old ship used to sail with
Don't be ignorant, just be careful who you're sharin' with
I'd rather smoke and drive slow than hit a fifth and be loco
No joke, some of that stuff'll have you in a choke hold
Hold up -- while I was thinkin' about this my man rolled up
Smellin' like Christmas -- I had to take a break an' shake a leg
And get nice, relax on the mic, feel so precise
Put ice in the bong an' get cool cool hits
Something wrong with your health then smoke will benefit come on
CHORUS
DA JOINT -- pg. 2
Many people in a tenement smoke a dime piece, they need to find peace
You live in the streets, I had to get relief 'cos I know nothin' better
People get together every color any weather
Peace proposition slide with no friction
Start the ignition with the peace pipe offering over any topic
We could get on top of it, high light trees hippies in the sixties
(Get high) Yeah, just roll it up
(Get high) twist it up
(Get high) stay blazed
(Stay high Come on jump
CHORUS
Roll that stuff up don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot then smoke da joint (come on)
Roll that stuff up don't miss the point (woo)
Roll up in the spot then smoke da joint
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed.
(C) 2003 Lyrics and Music by Bob Mair, Nick Vincent and Richard Trapp
Dead End
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Bleak, City, Dark, Dead End, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Ominous, Party, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
83
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Dead End
DEAD END
CHORUS
I guess this is just a dead end
It aint nothing but a dead end
We all stuck in a dead end
And its lookin like it's the end my friend
VERSE 1
Listen up dummy ima come and take your money
I aint seen nothin' funny cause its dark and never sunny
On my side of the street move them feet talk is cheap
Poppin' off shots when we in the jeep at the industry
'cause they cant compete swerving sippin syrup
mixed with Hennessy I cant believe my enemies
surrounded by stupidity I smoke and get lucidity
I told you its my city G I roll up in them clubs
And get poonanny like im 50 ya hear a me
But ya never seen me get with me
I like my beats filty keep it so gully
I got money round my belly just in case they
Want to tell me that they'll lock me up
And then toss the key my philosophy
I got mouths to feed ima do what I need to do
Make'em bleed im on the run internationally
Bla bla bla bla that's all they heard
This aint my first my second one its bound to be my 3rd
I thought you understood never come into my neighborhood
CHORUS
VERSE 2
So gangsta that I never said its all good
Im down with the blood's the Crip's and the young thugs
From a young age I was crazy call me youngblood
Down with CPT LBC and every hood im insane for my baby mama
Can yo come and save me mama im caught up all in this drama
Hot as a sauna smoking Marijuana or cocoa puffs
You know I need it times getting rough and all yo buff
Faker hater perpetrator's ima kill ya like a game
Like we all been playin space invader's then I run a train
Im sick like Rick James in the basement with chains
Putting blunts out on ya brain ima keep it all cocked
I got it locked down like them fools in san quen
And I got a hand in every single game that y'all wanna play
Dirty harry make my day before you could say it
Ill have you laid out on the street blood seepin from your and 1's
CHORUS
BRIDGE
Im insane for my baby mama
Can you come and save me mama
Im caught up all in this drama
Come and save me
Don't Mean Nothin'
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Early 2000s, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Laid Back, Late 90s, Mean, Mid 90s, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
86
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Don't Mean Nothin'
DON'T MEAN NOTHIN'
Don't mean nothin', don't mean nothin'
(For the ones that didn't make it)
Don't mean nothin', don't mean nothin'
(For the ones that are fakin' it, it don't mean nothin' to me)
Don't mean nothin', don't mean nothin'
(Got you spotted, got you spotted)
Don't mean nothin', don't mean nothin'
That's right, you know, you know
Pop pop -- the shots get dropped like the rag top and the beats don't stop
Like Mr. King and the cops sellin' rocks on the block
It's the have and have-nots, I'll never be spotted
Got a camouflage physique and when I speak
You know your knees might buckle country huckleberry
Follow my lead to plant seeds, a new breed, no greed
Everybody get money in the land of honey
Milk go down smoother than silk, I'm well-built
Got 5 years in the tank to thank, I got bank and a certain amount of lovelies
A couple of them be ugly but they're the best, see
Kid I heard you tried to smoke me but I'm a local low g.,
Concentrate and focus, no hocus-pocus, the jokers get assassinated
Fascinated by the number of caskets at the end of the day
See the real steel shining lining clouds - I don't play
(I'm a veteran, see --- I got eyes in the back of my dome peace)
(I won't rest 'til I cease -- I'm about to show you how we do it)
You see the second verse about the smashing universe
I don't rehearse I spit bursts - used to snatch a couple of purses
Smoked out in the back route real smooth then moving no doubt
Laser in the middle of your dome scope I roam hope you're home
All alone cut the lines to the telephone bangin' like a metronome
Drop a dime make a rhyme, gettin' it right every time
Don't turn around - I'm right behind you
Play you and rewind you, fast-forward 'cos the truth is stranger than fiction
My diction's so precise I lead the blind to light I'm not askin' you to fight
I'm like a falcon in flight, 'cos this could be your last night so act right
Quit cryin', why you lyin? I'm detecting a fatal flaw in your inflection
You see the street's hot heat, no guessin', I'm a lethal weapon
If you have to ask the question you get blasted in all directions
(Yeah no more questions, see -- leave it up to the p-o-l-i-c-e)
(you never catch me g., never catch me -- too fast homey)
No doubt crack it open -- sip on the concrete yeah
Blood on my shoulders as I get a little older, pulla heist and rock ice
AS if my body was frozen, I'm chosen no supposin'
Got a load on my back, makes me rock like boulders, I smolder
I simmer 'cos I'm known to hold heat
Open the door, '64, low slow in my seat
If you got an extra beat I got multiple personalities, so smoked out
I got doubt about reality, no doubt
Yeah, no doubt, it don't mean nothin', see -- 'co I'm ruthless, g.)
From south cen to the L.B.C. uhh -- east side where we reside yeah)
Low little shorty like this little shorty like that - in the place to be see)
Yeah don't stop don't stop -- you see me comin' on your block,
You can't do nothin' about it see
Yeah roll up middle of the night, whatever you know
Don't mean nothin' -- been in the game for too long, kid
So don't play shorty don't play shorty don't play uhh
So it's goin' out to all my homies, you know what I mean yeah
Pour a sip on the concrete -- for the ones that didn't make it
For the ones that are fakin' it, it don't mean nothin' to me,
It don't mean nothin', yeah, come on
(C) 2001 Lyrics and Music by Bob Mair, Nick Vincent and Richard Trapp
Don't Trip
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar
BPM:
100
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Don't Trip
DON'T TRIP
CHORUS
I don't rep I don't step I don't flip I don't dip
I just make papes like they used to make mix tapes
Stay in check give respect hip hop intellect
I just stack chips lay in the cut don't trip
VERSE 1
This metropolis often is stopping us
Prophets predicted this postulate position
You must call me discipline
Listen I have risen on a mission and im through with them
I know youll have to pay someday
Ill be there to collect cash check or intellect
Cause someday youll be free
Someday youll see what it means to mess with true
Blood mc's we participating makin light of levity
Stop roll get out your hole millions of people
Lack complete control your bodys on hold while ya mind grows old
Fast livin tale a toll they was sellin I was sold
I wanted to break the mold
You know how fiends get bold
Stop shot steal your soul
In the dark feelin cold
With no one to hold
Walkin along long roads carryin a heavy load
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I don't slip and I like to sip slow no mo
Get loose Grey goose put you on the dance floor
What you want to leave for? You and me could be more
You look good in Dior walkin through my front door
Remedy sight sore hot so you heat my core
You don't know whats in store gonna make this one score
And then ill get away fly to tropics on the topic
Get that passport and lock it I got the lear jet on the low
In the valley meet there at midnight
Make sure the cash is right lookin at my clock it says 12:01
I think that shes the one but this players on the run
Had to hit the water to get rid of the gun
I can see us on the beach sippin drinks havin fun
Spot a pair of headlights runnin from the spotlight
Why ya bring the heat on baby?
CHORUS
YOU COULD BE MY LADY
YOU HAVE TO BE CRAZY
YOU MIGHT JUST SAVE ME
Down With Me
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Flirtatious, Hip, Hot, Laid Back, MC, Playful, Relationship, Romantic, Sensual, Sexy, Smooth, Soulful, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
88
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Down With Me
DOWN WITH ME
Come on make a move
I know you want it too
I wanna feel you down with me
Short stuff I like ya rockin it rough
It was a calm summer night so clean the rain came
You blow my mind with that divine smooth silhouette
Bet we could jet to Puerto rico
Freak those toes and not forget so I may come mention
On that evening want to smooth you with the feeling
Heaving somewhat revealing now are you feeling
Emotion damn I can conceive you and me weaving in the ocean
I can feel the friction love come between us
Is electricity after this night when I be missing you
You be missing me kissing each and every inch and touch
Available skin please commence to rolling those hips
Must be stolen from an Aphrodite Egyptian
In that position my new religion is just to keep you
Locked and clocked inside my vision
Come on make a move
I know you want it too
I wanna feel you down with me
You freakin it the right way freakin it the left
Breath to breath this effect doesn't need a complication
Yeah yeah what smoke provoke inter-dimensional
Sensual space travel unravellin meridian diamond in the island
I find your mind and its shinin' but after days of stress
And tribulation in this mess we need relation just to get high
Look inside my gaze you say the word and I stays and we lays out
Path with the math this equation makes sense
Just listen this is Switzerland what counts amounts
Of chips stacked so if you come around I know
You down with me and if ya down with me
Then I can see that we agree
Chorus
Drop From Below
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Blake Colie (ASCAP) 25% / Henry Benjamin (ASCAP) 25% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 25% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 25%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 25% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 75%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Key:
G♯m/A♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Drop From Below
DROP FROM BELOW
Verse 1
Yeah lets make that sound
Yes yes don't test don't test im alive 45s drop spin and the its hip hop
Yes yes don't stress don't stress keep it movin yall got no time to stop
Yes yes so fresh so fresh like a fine girls breath
Like that feelin in your chest yes yes don't test don't test
I'll be waitin in the bushes with the bullet proof vest (sike)
I don't shoot don't loot don't perpetrate
Keep it straight gully on the low like Watergate
Yes yes mess mess in the head
Never would I tell you id be better off dead
Im alive 45 drops spin and then its hip hop
Yes yes spit verse a make ya knees knock
No stress puff trees when the wind blows
No trees if you don't got ends though
Keep my head straight got no time to debate
North south east west rep state to state
Interconnected methods through the nebulous and
Clouds I drift check check check
Chorus
Drop from below freak walk city streets
Drop from below freak walk city streets
Verse 2
Yes yes bless bless we the best if I don't tell anyone
I wonder who will guess nonetheless fa me test
When we light up the jets I am what I am alchemical
Do what I do identical to my soul plentiful
Beats eats when fed new sun redemption
Seems that the air that I breathe filled with vitamins
Invite 'em in im tight im at the peak of my precipice
Twist white black backwoods in the back of whatever hood
Its all good welcome to my neighborhood
Drop state shift minus images diminishes swift perception
No question
Yeah lets make that sound yeah yeah lets MAKE THAT SOUND
CHORUS
Filthy Stinking Rich
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Comedy, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Bad, Barrio, Bling Bling, Booming, Bouncy, Bragger, Breaking Rules, Celebrity, City, Club, Cocky, Comedy, Cool, Dollars, Fame, Fortune, Fun, Funny, Girls, Good Time, Hip, Jewelry, L.A., Los Angeles, Low Rider, Money, N.Y.C., Naughty, New York, Odd, Party, Pimping, Playful, Quirky, Radio, Rich, Silly, Snotty, Spotlight, Street, Swag, Swagger, Swaggin, Tough, Trouble Makers
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Percussion
BPM:
84
Key:
A
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Filthy Stinking Rich
Boy you filthy
(I got what you want)
Boy you filthy
(I got what you need)
Boy you filthy
Filthy stinkin' rich
Ever since man back in the day
When I first started sellin' (hey) up in the bay
Had my pockets so fat like the back of Kim K.
Had to hide my gold hide my whip hide my chains
I had a million clean by the age of eighteen
Hoppin' gulf streams twenty chicks on my team
Bank roll splittin' pockets diamonds on my tick tock
Still up in the streets chiefin' money from this hip hop
Swagged up chilly willy philly don't stop
Holla at me girl cuz my style so clean
I'm playin' with this money girl you cant see me
I'm on the flat screen in a fat limousine
Pickin' up chicks that I ain't never seen
You don't have to know me
You could smell that green
You can do the splits while you lick the ice cream
We stack thick bricks tell the chicks to scream
Ain't nothing funny man had to get that money
Messin' with a bunny all the chicks say they love me
Half my paper dirty flippin' keys like the birdie
Up in the club and they try to act flirty
We can get down down take it to the ground
You know we in the building when you hear that (whoop) sound
Ain't messin' with an ounce man gimme the pound
They can see I'm filthy so they follow me around
Up north east to the west downtown
Trick flip stunts how we how we get down
All them player haters steady lookin' like clowns
Act like you know cuz we serve them ho's
Neck wrist belt buckle all of them froze
Stinkin' like new money up in ya nose
Rich flippin' steady sippin' sippin' veuve cliquots
Lemme see you dip stand up touch ya toes
Freak
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Bouncy, City, Club, Dark, Drugs, Energetic, Ethnic, Exotic, Flirtatious, Freaky, Fun, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Good Time, Guns, Hot, Kinky, Laid Back, Mean, Middle Eastern, Party, Playful, Promo, Sexy, Sports, Street, Strip Club, Teen, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Freak
FREAK
CHORUS
Freak slow out of control
Bounce bounce and creep ya roll
Freaky funky like an animal
Gaze like a lazer on the dance floor
VERSE 1
Frequently we freak mc's that blows in the breeze from the west indies
Santeria mama mia my name is st.john let me tell ya little something
About my favorite position anytime I rock upon the microphone
Delicious souls quite nice my mind remains vicious
Nobody come test comin out of my lips watch a part
Of 'em flip see these particles rip don't start I'ma trip
This is part of my grip I hold the microphone like I got total control
Cause im sippin never trippin call me loco loco
Cause I got the need gotta need gotta feed them freaks indeed
Ya never heard me but ask Joey D hes like the king of kings
Hes got ridiculous rings ya never heard me but ask Joey D
CHORUS
VERSE 2
J to the O E to the Y diamonds so tight rock the Mic
Freak we keep beats run the streets
Shinin like from a mile away you can hear them say
GO DIAMONDS GO DIAMONDS
I got a soundtrack in my back pack
Walk slow cause I know youre feelin that
Turn the bass up almost get a heart attack
Id like to give a shout out my man budda black
L to the E to the G G O got the old school b-boy studio
We aint takin it back we so funky in fact
If you saw me on the street youd just have to laugh
Im a paradox like a 22 that you catch
If you really saw the stash then youd do the math
CHORUS
Freak INMA Face
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Action, Electro, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Indie Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, News, Rap, Traffic Report, Trailer Action Adventure, Trailer Off The Beaten Path
Keywords:
Action, Aggressive, Animalistic, Beat Box, Chase, Freaky, Intense, Percussive, Quirky, Rowdy, South African, Traffic, Tribal, Twisted, Wild
Instruments:
Drums, Percussion, SFX, Solo Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
94
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Freak INMA Face
FREAK INMA FACE
CHORUS
Freak inma face
Freak inma face
Freak inma face
Get ya freak out my face
(repeat)
Verse 1
Im lovin em all the freaks
but don't tell me what ya name is
when we roll up to the club
haters tell me that im famous
rockin the spotlight
from Tokyo to Vegas
smack you in the face
when you tell me that you hate us
poppin wheelies catchin feelies
smoking bidi's and graffitis
eenie meenie minie moe
we catchin groupies by the nose
my chain is swingin crowd is singin
'pump it up we love you bro'!
I cant believe I got so many skills
Pay the bills
Back alley Shantytown
Drinkin liquor from the stills
Hold up don't roll up on me
Its apt to get you killed
Hooligans they tape you up
And take you up into the hills
Used to make the mixtapes
They so freakin ill
Sell em at the shows
Grab a freak then we chills
Everybodys pockets got a least
A coupla pills
Dodging crooked cops
Catch at least a coupla cases
Non-stop on the jock
They think they know our faces
Left to the right
Right to the left
Always try to chase us
I can never be caught slippin
Man I tell you im amazing
CHORUS
Verse 2
Yo whats that back tattoo wanna do
Bump to the bass and in my face
And shakin like I wanna taste
Slip slide flashlight
Last night all night
Riki tiki tavi drinkin champagne
smokin dynamite
passion and progression
session im confession
messin with professionals
with the extra large vegetables
I like to get the visuals
With so many residuals
I take my tongue take my time
Treat it like a ritual
Why they gotta rush me
Like a freak after the show
Im all sweaty silly putty
Youre too slutty lemme go
Crazy freak style & I got too many ho's
Why you love me im too crazy shady like a baby toe
Gangster leanin out the window
Bumpin to the radio
Pistol in my pocket man
You know you have to pay me though
Smoke up the bombastic
Rollin up the windows
But I told you we a creepy
Grimy dirty perfect timing crew
Freak you want my autograph
Tell you what im gonna do
Come into my dressing room
Im taking you to Xanadu
CHORUS
Left to the right and right to the left
WE ALL FREAKS
(repeat)
Free
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1970s, Classic Soul R&B, Entertainment News, Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Barrio, City, Cop Show, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Funky, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Positive, Radio, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Free
FREE
VERSE 1
Free like Mississippi free like shorty when she miss me
Free like bent over the wheel of a range rover
My mama said my main mission is to be relaxed
Liberate your mind on the railroad tracks
Remember when the music had a deep impact
Laid back instrumental incidental to stimulate
The mental ima swing back and forth on the street be free
Float down the river come on come on
CHORUS
Free funk beautiful people aint no equal fly like a falcon
In the sky we feel free freestylin
New York city wilin
Fell free (repeat) doin your best takin the test
VERSE 2
Can it be a liberation of the soul we need
I know those politrickin' don't give a finger lickin
Damn about the common man and woman tryin to make it happen
In this land wheres the voice of reason in the mob season
I think pleasin politicians gonna make us slaves
They keep getting money don't care how they behave
People of the planet just smile stay brave
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Outlandish I make a stand like im the man they all depended upon
Put my pen upon the parchment and star ship I travel galaxies
Killin fallacies about realities probably a principality
A sovereignty is what we need im on flame like your weave
A grown protozoas take over speed systems of a junkie
Too many punks be actin like monkeys
But theres a new star risin in the sky tonight
F is for the fact were in full effect
R is for the roots don't disrespect
E is for exactly what we be
E is for equality that's how we see
Im a student of underground history
We gotta fly free for a new galaxy
CHORUS
Gangsta Heaven
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Laid Back, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
93
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gangsta Heaven
GANGSTA HEAVEN
CHORUS
If I go to heaven
Let a gangsta lead
Cant always hit eleven seen a gangsta bleed
I didnt want to go but now I know that theres a gangsta heaven
A gangsta heaven
VERSE 1
We could all go to hell
Or heaven who can tell
Round one ring the bell
Late at night smoke was coming
From the alley that's right it was sign
Of a visible click in the midst of hits
That's critical cause if my man wasn't smoked up
Probably wouldn't a gotten loc'd up choked up in the cut
Thought I smelled something funny in the air that night
So we bounce vehicular the ounce particularly sticky
Underneath the seat one hand on the wheel
One hand on my heat been too long on the street
To not know my enemy I keep em close and tell em jokes
And make em think im funny
The only thing I had on my mind was the money
But I shoulda known wed rolled alone
For way too long way too long
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Seems like my feet always stuck in concrete
I seen the Mafioso drop a kid from a hundred feet
If you wanna play the game you might go insane
Too much talk makes dick a plain jane
What if I never make it back to my old stoop
What if I don't last till they call me old school
Im picturing a place with a smile on my face
Always thugs rollin trees and theres always a breeze
Aint no memories no death no destruction
Just blessed out crissed out let me make my introduction
Im popacapalotiguess I don't digress
You either catch rep or catch slugs in the chest
Whats better whats worse red sweater in the hearse
Heard you callin nurse wonder who get here first
Then the clouds dispersed and I was up in the heavens
CHORUS
The chosen few get to go
You know my soul told me so
(repeat)
CHORUS
Get Your Party On
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Electronica, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Barrio, Booty, Bump And Grind, City, Clown Dancing, Club, Compton, Crunk, Dance, Deep South, Downtown, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Ghetto, Kinky, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Miami, NYC, Nasty, Neo Electro, New York, Night Club, Party, Pole Dancing, Radio, Sexual, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Tough
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Get Your Party On
GET YOUR PARTY ON
Chorus
Get ya party on
Check ya head at the door/get ya party on
Its a party
Verse 1
To the beat to rhythm i flow
Little henny get me hot nitro
Wanna bounce with an ounce and roll
To the club to the spot keep it hot right
Gimme drink lemme pop in the spotlight
So fresh not a mess cuz i keep it tight
Let me get ya girl i made it into dynamite
Ride or die so fly you make my
Head shake vibrate in the gold state
I swerve on the curb i celebrate
Get hyped dont trip & we hyfee
Want a trick want a freak not a wifee
Get it up give it up tilt ya cup back
Turn around bend down and im gonna Smack
Gonna rock all night cuz im like that
Not done even when the sun light that
Chorus
Bridge
Gettin twisted on the floor
Get it up goin down
Verse 2
I just wanna let it go
Raise them hands touch ya toes
Dj makin mix and flows
Gimme one shot gimme two of those
We party on til the break of dawn
We rollin get our fade on and on
I wanna jet international set
In the pool like a fool gettin wet
You aint seen nothin yet
I'm a pro bro im a party vet
Take it off when you start to sweat
Meet you at the next spot right? bet
Lotta ho's little clothes on the set
I said it dont forget it
Gimme A Wooo
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gimme A Wooo
GIMME A WOOO
GIMME A WOOO
EVERYBODY FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK SIDE TO SIDE
GIMME A HEYY
ALL THE LADIES GONNA TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE TONIGHT
Now let me take you for a little ride tonight
Pimped back in a Cadillac feeling allright
Old school like a pimp on a Saturday night
Lean back in the seat head tilt to the right
I aint a mean man I could just lean man
Pull over for a second pull out the green man
You know we smoke lets do it (do it)
See that red light run right through it
Aint nothing but a party goin down right now
All the ladies in the ride got that rump like pow
Wanna know how I do it just ask me how
Jeans is pressed and smell so fresh
Mint tic tacs something for the breath
Straight half twisted by the time I left
On the two way speeding down the freeway
Me and my dj going to rock the spot tonight
Chorus
Now all the ladies in the place are you feeling allright
Got style and finesse old school like def
New school like fool better catch your breath
Ill be rockin this party till theres no one left
Straight crunk in the back get it packed that's my method
Aint no one in the spot waiting to get hectic
A little attitude my crew will correct it
Move that little thing over I inspect it
Went to the corner of the club she directed
Licked her lips and then she moved her hips
In my mind I was wylin doin two back flips
Does she drive automatic or she ride that stick
Chorus
Little twinkle in the eye now she act all slick
I like short ones tall ones skinny or thick
Down south out west or shes from the bricks
Now they all acting fly so just take your pick
Be a gentleman got that adrenaline
Pump like medicine into the system
Look how she glistens like the diamonds on my wrist
Pourin cris in the glass you know we pimp like this
I aint nothing but a fiend for this all night thing
Hands up in the air iced out like bling
Now just gimme that beat so I can do my thing
Git Me Some
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Chaos, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Promo, Scary, Sports, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
106
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Git Me Some
GIT ME SOME
CHORUS
Money gonna get me some honeys gonna get me some holla
Yeah oohh ooh gonna get me some get me some
Ladies gonna get me some crazy gonna get me some ladies
Gonna get me some party oohh oohhh
VERSE 1
Gonna take a look at the nook of my neck of the woods
Its all good its understood but im above a battle saddle up the philly
And get reall y on the day to day dilly of the dally of a dollar in the
Valley keep the increase till deceased I never flash a peace sign
To tell you whats on my mind I got thick rhymes that'll never see the light of the day
Play the occupation operation back in the 70s would've had to been a smooth hustler
Just to get the cheese now in new millennium im onto them they onto us get on the bus
But I could never trust a mister buster of the populous they like to trust and long legs
Skinny braids get the show get paid rodeo lasso up the stupid dough I aint lyin honeys cryin tryin to do voodoo at the show
CHORUS
I got you in my grip hush child don't slip sleep sleek sheets slip
Seek heat success chest to chest sweat you think that im a natural
Well im not even done yet spend dollars too long in a mental tenement
I might bend with it but ill never break you come fast ill come late
Just rip the party up to date your fate is what you make of it the fakers
High stakers some packin some stackin it I cant lose ill get busted
Used to get dusted now my armys crusted with a band of ice suss one
Vice or two that's true advice to you I might switch the other shoe
But it would never fit I get stick stuck tick tack patty actin wack
My knack is for the crackin of the domes with dope poems holmes
CHORUS
Breakdown
This little word goes round and round I wont stop until
Ive found cool cool crazies know how to get down
Gold And Platinum
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gold, Night Club, Party, Platinum, Promo, Radio, Sports, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gold And Platinum
GOLD AND PLATINUM
Chorus
Give me the ching, mister, now show me the money
Yeah give me the Escalade, fill the back seat with honeys
I'll throw down the beats - I'm holdin' my rhymes for ransom
Just show me the cash - I'll give you gold and platinum
My stance with this dude named Lance
Gimme my advance second chance no dance
All these fools fluctuated debated I cant wait
I love it I hate it I contemplate got no time
For fashion im mashin and smashin and stashin
These flows for he hold up wait a minute
Got my rub a dub bumpin at the club
Everybody push and shove now you wanna pull out from under me
The rug like im a rookie ya heard my mix tapes
I aint made a mistake since I was in the eighth grade
Makin fakers afraid now its time to get paid
Get laid get made sucka duck the fluctuation
This nation invaluable information
So yo stop slick let me give ya a market tip
If ya see me onstage flipping amazing grace
I need twenty points a joint ya need to stop slippin
Give me the ching mista
Now show me the money etc..
Chorus
One minute friends next asking you for ends
Vex me to an infinite degree lets see
Roll by in a Bentley see how many people act friendly
Invent the next experiment to test I flex perplex
Do you need the riches to get mmm that sucks
Say I live my life this way to my label execs
Floating clouds in jets watch me swift step
When you want air play I need money
Say fifty g a day for the next bangin hits that come
From my lips that get into the hips I just sip alize
Sike gimme the cris birds first rhymes second
Clutch a mic like a weapon wet physique
Well developed if ya blind ya can smell it if ya deaf
I can yell it if ya cant tell by now
Chorus
If my rhymes make dollars then my mind makes sense
Just holla
If ya detect the evidence
I fed words to the verbs 2 absurd flippin birds
In my benz third of my wealth I got stealth
Inclinations if you come correct persuasion
Got a little asian investment word to the wise
And the wisdom if ya eyes too big might get too jigga
By the time I got signed had a seat seven figures doesn't matter
Whos best whos bigger whos next the shakes come too late
Put it in the context us verses the universe
One simple chemical equation me + the beats = platinum reaction
Chorus
Good Times
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Barrio, Celebration, Celebratory, City, Commercial, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto, Hopeful, Joyful, Joyous, Night Club, Party, Positive, Promo, Radio, Swagga, Swagger, Upbeat, Uplifting
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Horns, Piano, Scratches, Strings
BPM:
95
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Good Times
GOOD TIMES
CHORUS
These are the good times
Forever in the hood times
We gonna make it we can make it
These are the ggod times
Love is the best crime
We gonna make it
Verse 1
5 bucks get a forty and a dutch
not thinking about much see my shorty get a touch
sweet as can be and a big you know what
keep my head up I never stop swingin
never stop hopin always keep copin
keep my body movin and my mind in motion
slick in production big truck system
mama always said son stick with the wisdom
I came to get them stick them fit them
I aint a victim and you never see me slippin
Never see me dippin even in middle of friction
Got them all wishin they was in my position
Smooth with the diction pay to listen
I get paid every single day
Gotta be good in the hood baby
Keep it comin baby one more time
We gotta hit them now with one more rhyme
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I gotta say make me feel that way
Like sippin champagne on the fifth of may
Like a pocket full of benjamins I maintain
Make it fall like rain act mad insane
Runnin through the streets yellin my own name
Love the way you move love the way you do
Anything can happen when you walk like that
King im relaxed to the infinite
Rock mic's that's my instrument
With two turntables make this thing get bent
Wicked with the flow act you don't know
Rockin it real fats then I make it slow
Flip the hood we can all get down
All come together white black or brown
In the hood whats good it's the natural sound
Check me out when ya on the block
CHORUS
Holla Back
Artist(s): St. John
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Entertainment News Rock, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Promo, Retro, Sexy, Sports, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
76
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Holla Back
HOLLA BACK
Chorus
Holla back come on baby where ya goin?
Holla back been missing you for so long
Holla back I want some more pain
Cause when you talk back to me makes me go insane
Holla back its much too quiet
Holla back I want to start a riot
Holla back don't you leave me cryin
I miss your love and I feel like dyin'
V1
Hop skip jump for a minute jump in the ride
with the boom booms in it I aint gonna be long
im sorry I was wrong stone rollin hand glowin
feet showin dusty roads but im on my own
lets keep it going drive to the left drive to the right
those gangstas right there look they wanna fight
gotta hit the crib and the outfits tight goin to the club
downtown tonight might be on you gonna be gone
eerrrtt stop slap Cadillac up on the curb 3 wheelin
peelin you aint wit me roll like fifty up in the club lets go
Chorus
V2
Whilin and profiling dub sack that need to get smoked tonight
I don't wanna get provoked that big ass thing is the antidote
Shake it roll it move it hold it slap it silly she from philly
What the dealy I got a girl where she at? Ima rock that world
Oh no fast slow people askin about ya girl put the lights down low
Pop that criss hands in the air now make a fist the whole club
Swayin from left to right girl them short shorts sure look tight
When we gonna go to the club together sittin at home tryin to be clever
The cris flowin booty showin where you goin girl? Come on
Chorus
V3
Like ice cube im down for whatever holla back girl don't care about the weather
Skip step jump for a second turn around shake like you got buck naked
Bomb another drink like we aint gonna make it
Stop roll drop sown damnit shake it like sex like there aint no limit
I miss you girl ill tell the whole planet
Aint nobody stacked in the back like that
Chorus
Hot In The Club
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Hot In The Club
HOT IN THE CLUB
CHORUS
Hot in the club yeah
Up in the club little drugs little love
Make it shine from above drink a little henny
Move that fanny outstanding
Im inside while you still in line
VERSE 1
Im holding hands with this divine thing
I think she make my mind sing
Yo we in a see through bathroom
Quick lock the door
Never seen a body like that before
Make me want to run home write metaphors
See we been doin it in the club since 94
This is a hip hop stick up sick put ya hands up
Wave em in the air like ya just got out of lock up
We walk up with 50 bouncers look shifty
Get ya hands out ya pocket quick kid
I saw ya hide those little diamonds
When you see my eyes shinin
Straight from Long Island better not look at the god
Now smiling okay okay
CHORUS
Hot in the club a little drugs little love
Make it shine from above
Drink a little henny move that fanny outstanding
Im inside while you still in line
VERSE 2
Ok ok I didn't bring no AK
Time to pop a hundred dollar sparkles
Yo pour in the chambord
I drove the LamborGhini here
But I think im leavin with that little teeny here
She whisperin good things in my ear
Oh my god say it out loud it sounds scandalous
Throw me off balance like bad drugs
We aint mad thugs we just come here to party
I like to sip cognac I don't drink Bacardi
Speakin of which lets switch seats I got to roll up a philly
Let the club feel the heat spread ya legs out
Move that ass move ya feet
CHORUS
Hustlin' The Street
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Cool, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Exotic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Hustling, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Hustlin' The Street
HUSTLIN' THE STREET
Chorus
YA HUSTLIN THE STREET
TRYIN HARD TO COMPETE
DON'T LET THEM CRITICIZE
MAN JUST OPEN YOUR EYES
YA HUSTLIN THE STREET
TRYING TO MOVE YOUR FEET
TRYING TO SURVIVE BUT YA
LIVIN A LIE
I make it by with tears in my eyes
Shorty looked tough until he met his demise
Standin on the stoop lookin wet and surprised
Didn't know he died til the light left his eyes
I told him listen man ya gotta put up a disguise
That's how you get by that's how you survive
That's why we dip and dive and roll and front and smoke blunts
We on the hunt get what we want and do it crunk
And buy this junk and cook it up and rock it up
Pack it up and slap it up and slap the hand
And understand that in the hood this the only way that we
Can make a hundred grand and feel like a man
Do you understand that you must have a plan
Wheelin and dealin trying to be a big man
Chorus
Yo makin to the biz taking a man to meet another man
Forsakin the plan that there's another life shorty
Hop the train before you run into strife shorty
Start reading books don't be a crook with kids and a wife
The heat is on doin dirt and wearin Teflon
I wish I could go on and explain how I feel
But these are the streets and I have to live real
I told him all these things fact without saying a thing
Feelin hypocritical and wearin diamond rings
I started out a hustler it don't mean a thing
I coulda left the streets coulda been anything
This shorty just died for cream and bling bling
This shorty just died for cream and bling bling
Chorus Repeat
I Know
Artist(s): St. John
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Dino Soldo (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Brandino Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, High, Laid Back, Mean, Ominous, Pot, Prison, Scary, Stoner, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
110
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Know
I KNOW YOU NEED TO KNOW
Everything is in between the lines of time
Spawns the rhyme the kind of expansion of
Consciousness dances beat of the drum where
The words come from given a gun and explicit
Instructions function of livin is full of instruction
What if we act and subtract this distraction
A faction of us could erupt in conjuction
Open up minds into time and dimension
Extension of soul into powerful people
Soul sanctified soul my god how ya sent prevent
This to detain that
Chorus
It's a subtle battle the rattle of chains refrain
Is it they or them friend or enemy spiritually
Vacant dissipations is runnin the nation
I look back on the Jamaicans see that he was
Takin a risk to sift between the gifts he got
Friends got shot I seen affliction same as this one
In a separate state of perception minds locked down
This is got a soft spot slow of convention
Convincing wisdom isn't in the books or looking up
To crooks who trust that they're the same as us
Inside of that streams a separate dream each and every thing
Chorus
Let it all go
RAST
I'll Be On It
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B
Keywords:
Flirtatious, Hip, Hot, Laid Back, MC, Playful, Relationship, Romantic, Sensual, Sexy, Smooth, Soulful, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
112
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I'll Be On It
I'LL BE ON IT
CHORUS
I'll do anything for you
Anything that you want me to
Just say the word and baby ill be on it
I'm the one's gonna treat you right
You can call me day or night
Just say the word and baby I'll be on it
Check ckeck respect how ya sweat
How ya fit them long legs in a black corvette
I seen ya kind of lampin' in the club like a champion
Fresh breeze oh please come squeeze only thing I need
Is your energy tight got game and philosophy
Distracted acted like you don't know me
Don't play games girl I'm on them things
Wanna try to test here's that diamond ring
Blackberry so you always know where to get me
Ya flip me head to toe you whip me
Anything you want girl you know
I won't front girl you know
I got game girl I ain't ashamed girl
But all that quits when you flip my name girl
CHORUS
Smell of ya skin drive a man insane
I wanna hold ya close when it starts to rain
Ya know I got ya back when you start to feel pain
Player like me man its kinda strange
You got me wrapped up I'll do anything
Rock it so nice then ya start to scream
Layin' in bed starin' up at the screen
I told you it was love girl you know what I mean
Lookin' like the cover of a magazine
Tell me what ya need break ya off that green
I got so many things you ain't never seen
Tell me what ya want girl you know
I won't front girl you know
Tell me what ya need I'll put ya mind at ease
Ya know my steez got paper like you wouldn't believe
Check these
CHORUS
Ya need it ya want it say the word and I'm on it
Got my number ding a ling
Girl I'll get you anything
CHORUS
It's All Goin' Down
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Organ, Piano, Synthesizer, Violin
BPM:
85
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
It's All Goin' Down
ITS ALL GOIN' DOWN
CHORUS
Its all goin down
You might wanna be around
Its gonna be apocalypse we dumpin clips
Bodies wont be found
Its all goin down you don't wanna be around
Its gonna be a lot of blood and smoke and guns
Its all goin down
VERSE 1
I been designed with the street life
Dyin with the street lights
Its been about a minute since this g can even sleep right
I got a nickel plated desert eagle with the lazer scope
Ima tell ya now better leave town for ya get found
Six feet down actin like a clown
Fool how ya like me now? Aint no sweat up off my brow
I got nine millimeters pop pop pop pop pop
Go them heaters I learned from Jamaicans
And im down with them Haitians
Sneak up on ya on vacation when nobody's around to save ya
Screamin for ya savior all that trick behavior
You been a punk shootin junk livin like a dog
Stealin from ya people man lying like a log
Infections need fixin im the medicine
Cutting it out of the skin im the doctor are you ready to begin?
Are you ready to pop that first shot? That's what I thought
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Actin like a dirty cop boy that'll get dropped
Roll around in a drop top bound to get shot
Circle round the block while my thumb goes cock
Cant ya see don't ya see that I will never stop
Im down like hip hop when I break a pop lock
Easy cause I jocked OG's when I was a little shorty
And they taught me 'bout the OZ's Uzi's nike's white t's
Crisp khakis im in the back in the '63 puffin on some loose leaf
Watchin dvd's of Bruce Lee drinkin brewskis
Freakin with some hoochies now im sippin on some Hennessy
I got them thug tendencies smart as a whip
When I pop that first clip drop the piece then I dip
I never had respect say ya name then I spit
You shoulda never flipped then you wouldn't get clipped
Have ya hangin off a cliff man bleedin from ya lips
VERSE 3
Man bleedin from ya lip loose I got proof
You was sinkin the ship im wearin gloves on the chrome grip
Thinking legit by tonight I'll be in vegas cashin all of my chips
And im calm cool collect ya never heard of me trip
I cant believe all these thieves climbin' up on my tip
Bitin is exciting till them hollow tips rip
Ya skin and im sick in the head like I said my seed need to get fed
Id rather shoot and grab loot live or be dead
Its goin down like I said cash under the bed(repeat)
CHORUS
I Wanna
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
City, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Wanna
I WANNA
CHORUS
Youre getting so hot why don't you take it off
Im gettin so hot I wanna I wanna
VERSE 1
Sugar and spice and everything nice
Let me take you to Rodeo lay ya hands and your wrist
And your neck on ice
You got spice like Bombay models on the runway
Let me tell ya bout the way we play in L.A.
Come and pick you up stay gone for three days
Thermostat must peak 85 degrees have you weak in the knees
Playalistic you don't have to speak you just have to scream
That skin so silk have me flipped like a fiend how you dip in them jeans
How you gonna act pimp say you got your own cream
I feel like I smoked woke up in a dream
Baby girl with them curls bubble bath and steam
I had to pull connection for the club tonight
But if you stay freaky we stay in tonight
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Im the first to run the last to come
Shake the timber like thunder stay limber go undercover
Like no other man can I don't mean to boast got a place on the coast
I don't mean to brag but no ragtops got the 600 tint and you know it stays dropped
Love you like hip hop when you take it off
Girl those hands so soft got the pedal to the medal
Wont stop until you stop everything stays rock
As we roll up the block hold your head up high
As we spark jade opticals bottles that we pop and pull
Feel like im in tropical weather whether youre coming soon
Or in the next room feel the boom from the bass and girl just in case
Im gonna hit and run baby im not even done cause we gonna see the sun
Girl that was just round one
CHORUS
YOURE BURNING UP BABY
LETS TAKE IT OFF BABY
Jump She Jump
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Dancehall, Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Jamaican, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap, Reggae, Reggae Dance Hall, Reggaeton
Keywords:
Beach, Caribbean, Club, Dance, Flirtatious, Florida, Fun, Island, Kinky, Miami, Party, Playful, Promo, Radio, Sexy, South Beach, Sports, Spring Break, Street, Strip Club, Summer, Tough, Twisted
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
93
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Jump She Jump
Jump She Jump
Chorus
Jump she jump anytime
When we in the club and we feel the bassline
Bump he bump anytime
When he in the club and he feel the bassline
Verse 1
When me fly around the world
I spy upon them girls
Dip around the block opportunity come knock
Put em all in my limo and we takin it non stop
Dirty as she wanna be see her walkin down the street
Wonder if she tell me can we jump up jump up
Ask her what her name would be said you cant mess with me
Said maybe baby you shake and were gonna see
Sippin on straight hennessee
Rub a dub I got some love
When I freak her from behind
She fit me like a glove
Follow me follow me come and reach from above
Come to make the floor the ceiling shake
Motivate and twist upon the record like bump bump
If you workin 9 to 5 or doin dirt and then you drive
Makin it hard to stay alive we jump jump
Chorus
Verse 2
Me from London west end want a friend
Come in and pretend like they really makin ends
Got a fatter pocket meta4 know how to rock it
Come with me come with me
I got jump up for days mama need to get paid
Back of an escalade smoking hand rolled spliffs
I like the club dirty smoky Daniel jack the 5th
Insane when I spit the gift like you need a lift
Put your hands up make a 4 name is meta4
Came here to get raw so get on the floor
I like to get the whole joint jumpin jumpin
Thumpin thumpin like they say we need it crunk
Make my move and make you look
Got you starin at the floor and you shook shook
People let me tell you one time
West side east side cmon
Chorus
Just Hang
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Dino Soldo (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Brandino Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Hang, High, Laid Back, Mean, Ominous, Pot, Prison, Relax, Scary, Stoner, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
91
Key:
F♯/G♭
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Just Hang
JUST HANG
Laid back thinking chillin in the Lincoln
On the brink of vexin' but I shouldn't be stressing
All of this existence is a blessin confessin
To my many women in the back seat sinkin'
Into separate dreams roll up smoking the conduit
Spliff lit ill admit if it's a gift it should beget a
Righteous destiny smokin session come with blessings
Too many troops with too many youths trying to get loot
Who do dem shoot cant discuss discussion
It's a dangerous transgression
Just hang
Cause it aint no thing
Scandalous can handle just its own exist a vandalous
Contagious way of operating ignorance in angeles
Forget it find the fit and just lay back and just get lit
Kid its far too close to overdose no one to trust only boast
One particular way of thinking sink in sunshine state of liquid slow
My tempo down to beats complete as you and me could only be
In this a free delicious breathing only competing with the airs
Of existence this is just a persistence of magnetical realizations
Super evident and existential in the mentals climb a mountain
Exponentially each and every day hey
Chill relax and just lay back
Repeat
Chorus
RAST
Keep It Comin'
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Entertainment News Rock, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Promo, Retro, Sexy, Sports, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
Year Recorded:
2002
BPM:
130
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Keep It Comin'
KEEP IT COMIN
CHORUS
Keep it comin all night
Keep it comin all right
Keep it comin fo sho
Keep it comin you know
Keep it comin to the top
Keep it comin don't you stop
VERSE 1
Keep it comin like an animal drop down clap
We be chillin at the club till we fade to black
Then its back to the crib you know how we do that
Now and laters faders chillin wearing gators
Good old boys with them automatic toys
Don't care if you move left or right tight tight
Pullin on the spandex got me feelin man jets
Erupt explode lawd lawd walkin down these country roads with
My headphones on wearin louis vitton
Some slang just to get that money right if you slang then you bang
If you wanna hold on then sing this song
Nothing to it but to do it
Then smoke that stuff lean back take a puff
Man don't act tough
Keep I comin like a player
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Nnow in the back of my mind now im feelin divine
Like when you in the cut with a bottle of wine
Thunderbird Mad Dog 50/50 look at them gangstas
Start to look shifty we all about love till they push and shove
Showin off lookin stupid cupid shoot them
Aint no one want that mess down here gimme that nooky
And a bottle of beer stay focused hocus pocus
Why ya clothes is still hangin off ya frame
You look better buck naked aint wanna complain
Take ya out to the car in the pourin rain
Smoke a little Spliff shut off the brain
Take it slow you know how to maintain
Keep it comin aint no way that we could stop this train
If you too clucked up im the one to blame
CHORUS
VERSE 2
We can rock it all night long
Shake your ass and sing that song
A party aint a party girl unless I see that thong
Shakin' that rump now don't feel strange
Break it down like this I drink a fifth drive slow
In the Cadillac Brougham im lik the that stone keep it rollin
Girl you aint right you wrong
Keep it comin all night long
Shake that ass and sing this song
Keep The Joint Rockin'
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playfu, Playful, Promo, Retro, Sexy, Sports, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
104
Key:
C♯m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Keep The Joint Rockin'
KEEP THE JOINT ROCKIN'
CHORUS
Here it come y'all can you feel it? (repeat)
Were gonna keep the joint rockin (repeat)
Every night
Were gonna keep the joint rockin
Never gonna stop it
VERSE 1
With that high gloss sheen on everything that you seen
Put you on a million dollar yacht out at the sea
Partly its position partly its my mission
Pardon me miss id just like a little kiss
Pardon my past I aint really low class I just like your sass
And your savoir faire no that's not fair
Wanna see you down there on the dance floor
I wish I could see more let me take a detour
To my big ole fancy crib wanna see the way I live
Making hits for these kids making clubs real hot
With real sure shot know im pure hip hop
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Its time its time out your game on the line
If you feel like you look then you gonna feel fine
I was twisted hands on the business
Maybe you could tell me if you ever felt it like this
Heart was pumpin' jeep it jumpin' that's my function
Aint that something I been around the world
I aint playin girl if you like the way I say it
You could just display it get in the ride with me
We could go 150 im fast put my foot on the gas
Always last till we reach the peak homegirl
Im a freak I don't speak I scream
Throw you in the limousine
CHORUS
Breakdown
Throw your hands up top
This is just hip hop
You know we don't stop
Cause we cant ever stop
We came to party where do all the hotties be?
(repeat)
Keep This Party Rockin'
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Club, Dance, EDM, Hip Hop, House, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop
Keywords:
After Party, Celebration, Club, Cocky, Crowd, DJ, Dance Floor, Debauchery, Energy, Fun, Good Time, Late Night, Lively, Loose, Miami, Party, Playful, Promo, Rowdy, Shots, Swagger, Upbeat, Vacation, Wild, Youth
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Horns, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
127
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Keep This Party Rockin'
It's a party right here
This is where the party's at
That's right!
CHORUS
We gonna keep this party rockin' (repeat)
VERSE 1
It's your number one mesmerizing hypnotizing trill MC
Get down from the car get into the bar
Got a squad like the Heat from Miami
Put ya money away Mami I got you
I got you pero like girl all night I rock you
Champagne no pain fast lane
2 chains first names plantains what we do
International
with the fashion yo
And the passion though
We be smashin' dough
Throwin' cash in the air
Do we look like we care all you pato sucias are loca
Got a hot tub back of my troca
Got that patron café mocha
On fleek we freak and smoka
Cubano hot like soca
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Everybody come look how beautiful
The ladies look chillin' down by the pool
Now we got rum got dumb act a fool
How ya felt when ya first got out of school
Everything looks bright
Everything's so right
Everything so hot in the spotlight
All the love in the club
And you tug on my jeans I'm a fiend
For the party when it's started tonight
That champagne fall like rain
I pass the bottle to a model man this spot's insane
No consequences lose your senses
People jump out your lane
From spot to spot we rock
Don't stop pop pop
Baby, dale, keep the change
Keep those hands up high maintain
CHORUS
BREAKDOWN
Drop it on the floor baby
HEY ! HEY ! HEY!
(repeat)
Everybody in the place
Party people don't stop
Keep this party flowin' til the bass drop drop drop
CHORUS
King of Clubs
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Barrio, Chill, City, Dance, Drugs, Energetic, Fun, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
King of Clubs
KING OF CLUBS
CHORUS
Diamonds on the wrist girl pop your Kris
I'm the king of the club I'm the one you love
(repeat)
VERSE 1
Rap superstar at the bar
I'm lookin for the chick with the ripped six
I'm slick see me comin' with a pocketful of benjamins
Gentlemen step aside no red rope no pride
I ride the wave no fame name don't claim game
I've kept the rep in step keep hits comin'
In ya chest 9 to 5 we getting love in the club
Sun come up and we smoke a dub i'm
A lover international London to L.A.
Freaks on the runway properly drop position
I'm on the down low on Sunday I only do it one way
My way the highway I roll so slow
In the black 6oo I keep my windows tinted
I keep the engine runnin'
When the girl comes runnin'
CHORUS
VERSE 2
In Puerto Rico met this fine ass freak
I was sittin' in the club we roll 25 deep
I didn't have to dance man I didn't have to speak
Champagne flows any day of the week
I gave a little wink and her knees got weak
I told her I'm from Tennessee sipped on the Hennessy
She said she remembered me seen me on the video
Said I ain't a groupie I just like the way you move me
I think I seen her in a triple x movie
Hold up girl don't be messin' with the cooffies
Must a mistook me for the flavor of the week
We jumped inside the jeep
And the ride started rockin' I ain't knockin' occupations
I'm a freak in any nation
She got satiated and we rolled back in
I make all my money from my mind and my pen
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Freak roll lose control shake bounce like an animal
Silver platinum ice and gold ride on 20's or don't ride at all
Shake that thing keep it natural everybody needs some action y'all
We could keep it goin' till the break of dawn e roll like x go on and on
You've got the key to my hotel I love when they scream and yell
When you're done don't have to tell keep everything on the d and l
CHORUS
Let's Ride
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Gypsy, Jail, Killer, Mean, Mid East, Middle Eastern Influence, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
140
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Let's Ride
LET'S RIDE
CHORUS
LET"S RIDE
Gotta hit the street – we packin' heat – we movin'
LET'S RIDE
Got the AK cocked, it's ready to pop – let's do it
LET'S ROLL
We comin' for ya – gunnin' for ya
So LET'S RIDE – Let's RIDE
VERSE 1
Gotta creep down the street when I hold the heat
Pop pop them drop them off of they feet
Ghetto chicks love it when I drop the beat
Tell em dirts done better hide the gun
Out on the stoop like what what
Officer ima have to duck
Straight out of luck better pass the buck
Aint nobody doin no gangsta ish
Im an educated thug I aint dangerous
Soon as popo done leave the spot
Better bet in a minute im cocked and locked
Hop in the whip 300 dropped
But it aint in my name if I get cold caught
Caught a bid once so I cant get dropped
It's a gangsta thing hit low when I swing
Got about 5 chicks waitin for that ring
Spend funny money like it aint no thing
Hook that cook that thing up
Better get blinged up
If you wanna ride with me
Gotta take control
Like an animal im on parole I don't pay the toll
Rolex on froze cuz I love them hoes
Made em arch they back as they touch they toes
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Got that dough betta bet we froze
Sippin on Veuve Cliquot you know
Cant mess with this in a 9 by 6
Shut them lips and it better be quick
2 holes in the chest start to switch
rap about it when I put it on the mix
make a hit stack bricks I am legit
I will click click then pow!
Chicks on the tip take one then flip
Out the back door when im done with it
Go to the show when they climb them poles
Better believe you wont get no dough
On the dance floor man out of control
On the blow when they pop the roll
Ak cocked so don't talk no mo
Smoke then roll nice and slow
Creepin up with he black tint windows
Better duck when you see me on the go
Yes yes get that get that fresh fresh
Hit that hit that hold the smoke
No beginner no choke
Roll up the dutch that's what I wrote
Ima pop the clutch I don't shoot no dope
Put a lazer scope on top of the do'
CHORUS
Verse 3
Blast ya gat ya off ya feet
I never rush im all low on the street
Keep it cool like luke cuz im ready to shoot
Lay down on the ground look what I found
Yeyo in the trunk man about a pound
I could flip that yo thats how I get down
Gotta get that dough then I pass it out
Gotta maintain without a doubt
Puff that puff that pass pass
Ruff that ruff that gas gas
Chalk it up then I cook it up
Rock it up up then I hook it up
Gotta get dirty bills man that's wussup
Pour a sip on the ground for the soldiers told ya
Puff that puff that pass pass
Ruff that ruff that gas gas
Liquor Flowin'
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Pop
Subcategories:
Club, Dance, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Bar, Boom Box, City, Club, College, Crunk, Drinking, Drive By, Drugs, Drunk, Energetic, Energy, Frat Party, Fun, Gang, Liquor, Night Club, Playful, Shots, Spacey, Street, Strip Club, Swagger, Teen, Trippy, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard, Synthesizer
BPM:
84
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Liquor Flowin'
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin'
Shot 1 shot 2 shot 3 shot 4
We already kinda twisted when we walk in the door
Jack, Jim hen gin goose hit the floor
All these trick chicks wanna ask for more
They want purple hooter shooters they aint got no dough
So gimme the bottle wait mama ask for 4
Now we cant see straight say ho lets go
We got that cazadores Don J and Patron
We don't play with alize leave that cris alone
Your girl asked me to teach (to teach)
How to go have sex on the beach (on the beach)
Do a shot then we get that nookie
Taste sweet like an oatmeal cookie
Doin' body shots straight like a rookie
Boy that 151 it done and straight shook me
Now we gonna get drunk fist pump like Snookie
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin'
Pound for pound these ho's pros
Climbing on anything that got flows
Do shots get drunk I suppose
We can go and get ya outta them clothes
By the way girl can you stretch & grab your toes
Liquor make it quicker seal the deal then close
If you grab my microphone I know
Then you with it and I'm with it lets go
Chocolate cake dr. pepper on fire
Gimme lemon drops on the rocks cuz I ain't tired
Now we mix that rock star its got me wired
If you tell me you ain't drinkin' you a liar
Imma take 5 more then retire
All of my crew we getting much higher
Now we got that liquor flowin' all night
Do a shot freak don't speak that's tight
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin' (ev'rybody doin' SHOTS!)
Keep the liquor flowin' (gettin' drunk drunk)
Keep the party goin'
Loco En El Barrio
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Latin
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Latin Hip Hop, Latin Hip Hop Rap, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap, Spanish
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Chaos, City, Club, Dance, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Latin Influence, Mexican, Party, Prison, Spanglish Lyrics, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Language:
Spanglish
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Loco En El Barrio
LOCO EN EL BARRIO (Spanglish)
CHORUS
Muy caliente en mi barrio
Mi cabeza esta loco yo me gusta todo mundo
Chupacabras muy poquito
VERSE 1
Hey yo rico suavecito I meet you
Down in Puerto rico where all the freaks go
Soon though el mundo is gonna know my name
I love to play the game cash cars and fame
74 El Dorado dipped like Mafioso
vente dos or maybe vente quarto
any type of rim from Juan in Tijuana
you cant see my face smoke thick Marijuana
keep it old school like that song cucaracha
hope you think im stupid cause that one time ima watcha
better come correct or you get disrespected
don't be coming to the hood thinking its all good
la gente got some beef with intelligente
my people will greet you with that clack clack clack
psyche just playin man we don't smoke crack we just
keep it calm cool respect and collect it
CHORUS
VERSE 2
We might be loco like my cousin Moco
Got locked up put police in a choke hold
Don't throw signs if you wanna stay alive
Aint no 9 to 5 we just keep it live
In el Barrio always got beats pumpin loud from the stereo
Old school area like 213
No crips no bloods just you and me
You might think im crazy rollin keys in the alley
Kinda like a front but ill get you what you want
Hey mami its your papi no me gusta what your used to
Givin no entrada when the shots are shakin
Aint nothing wrong with the love were makin
See those fools sniffin messin with cocaine
No name in the street now you just stink
Claimin' old school fool
CHORUS
BRIDGE
I could wreck shop and still maintain
Been known to rock the mic with half a brain
CHORUS
Lost My Mind
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Club, Cool, Cop Show, Crunk, Dark, Death, Dirty South, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Party, Prison, Scary, Shooting, Smooth, Sneaky, Southern, Street, Trippy, Urban, Vibe
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Lost My Mind
LOST MY MIND
CHORUS
I done lost my mind lord can you help me find it
Get down down come and turn around (repeat)
VERSE
With the.44 come through the door get dough
Snatch ends like a fiend know what I mean
Serpentine dreams my whole team seen things
You wouldn't believe jail tat's on the sleeve
Smuggling drugs in cavities these thugs be jugglin'
Hustling talking about pimps with bricks in the back
Of the whip I think quick in my mind so sick
That they wanna lock me up give me medicine
Like im a veteran seeing things I hallucinate
About plates made of platinum and I flatten them with flows
And I love those hoes where my nose goes lead me to the rainbow
Pot 'o gold bend down touch ya toes
But ya cannot hear me though
I love playa haters im ya mind invader
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I lost my train of thought it jumped the tracks jump back
Semi-automatic in the hands of a lunatic
Spittin counterfeit mamuscripts im poundin fists
Reading all them lyin lips I used to say stack chips but its played out like space ships
Old like them flows don't they know im low pro
I sneak no doz on the way to poconos
Smoking those sticky elbows drinkin mickeys with a straw
Quick on the draw smoke pall malls climb walls stand tall
If you can even stand at all im so close to an overdose in Soho
Fond foes and I make em witness im takin care of business
Im writin up a hit list sofit this bullet proof vest real close to ya chest
I hold a dart against ya neck and make ya hold ya breath
My best friend my homepiece my man is death
No time left no time for them threats this time
Ima get mine ima drink mad wine in the summertime
Im alive like theres 5 minutes left
CHORUS
My Bizness
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Big Business, City, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
91
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
My Bizness
MY BIZNESS
CHORUS
My Business is big business
I got more dollars comin every hour
Im gonna show you I got the power
My business is big business
Im gonna show you whos the boss
Youre gonna have to pay the cost
VERSE 1
Big pimp big baller shot caller
Lincoln continental never catch me in impala
Holla back im the big boss
I stack bills and I floss like Paul Wall's grill
Underneath my seat where I keep my steel
Bulletproof cuz you can do what ya will
\my rims keep spinnin while the car stands still
coupe de ville I only shoot for real I run 187's
while im poppin them pills from the belly of the beast
to my house in the hills get with me if ya get me
ima choke the chain keep them dogs on a leash
less ya wanna see brains on the concrete in the street
feelin no pain ya souls in the ether like nas said to jay-z
catch me on the run have ya shirt feelin breezy
aint nothing come easy on the hood that's fasheezy
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Big daddy big pimp big baller drop a imp
As im rollin down the 10 cause we rollin in the ben
Jamins im in the money makin mode
Im rockin it so hot it explodes ima take it on the road
Get them groupies out they clothes I don't love thenm hoes
They only love me cause im froze they feel it in they toes
To the top of they chickenheads like weezy ima move on up
Now its understood I freak like a dog in heat
Im no good you can come to Hollywood and stand
Where I stood im back in LBC now im back in the hood
Getting feezy fa sheezy rollin on 3 wheels stolen at the corner
Of fox hills I talk real cock back peel ima cop a feel
On ya girl when ya gone man take her along on the wrong side
Of the tracks man hittin the bong
BRIDGE
I can make you or I can break you
I can take you to the top with one shot one pop
Take you underground if I found you talked
I can make you or I can break you
One house for the homies
Another for hoes I gotta stay hot
Cause my neck stays froze
Pull up in a lexus the nexus grows
Took a trip to Texas to check them hoes
CHORUS
My Lady
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Club, Flirtatious, Fun, Party, Playful, Radio, Relationship, Romantic, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
My Lady
MY LADY
CHORUS
I wanna show you that you are my lady
I wanna show you everything you are to me
I wanna hold you cause you are my lady
I wanna show you everything you are to me
VERSE1
Baby girl tight curls in my world like
Bright light shinin deep into my night might
Keep you in my sight days I participate
In your life like a true man should boo
Wanna demonstrate populate activate
When they see us all these thugs wanna player hate
I remember when we first met first date
I was late kinda wild when I thought of you
Long tall its not just freefall lamped in the
Whip talked and thoughts came across
You was soft I was off in my mind like
Good lord whats this gift sittin next to me
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Day one get it done havin fun
Deep inside my middle say she's the one
Gotta keep my game tight I know we last all night
We don't fight just communicate everyday
By the way im on my way to the top babe
We could ride in a dropped '63 babe
In a California breeze love the way you smoke trees
Sexy funky like Jamaican or Haitian girl
Im makin these papers my girl gets the best
I try to confess sometimes my word gets a mess
See you in that black tight midnight dress
One in a million brazilian chameleon
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Step back soul clap its for real that
Way you look at me I leave its not easy
Fasheezy its breezy my heart does flips
Way you walk down the beach and with ease move them hips
Loose lips sink ships we keep it so low
Down deep everybody want to know oh
Wher'd they go dipped out again at midnight
Back to the crib you know you make me feel right
I got some things some diamond rings
You caught some blings and then made me sing
This is the real thing girl I don't care
You and me are lovely in the atmosphere
CHORUS
Never Goin' Back
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Barrio, City, Cop Show, Dance, Energetic, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Never Goin' Back
NEVER GOIN' BACK
VERSE 1
I was frozen in an explosion meant to be chosen
As the one takin over from the power of the sun
Destiny's finally come and I need will to be done
What was written what will come
The past is blasted like some heat from a tek-9 on the street
Knowledge is a weapon keep it comin move your feet
We been defeated since the history we must remain a mystery
CHORUS
Pride and wrath and lust and greed
We never goin back till we find what we need
VERSE 2
Like mystics this delivery is accurate
Packin raps into the immaculate
Conception was inception to increase imperialism
Pyramids of wisdom will spring you from mental prison
Unlatch and then detach and make a match and strike back again
I wish I was an Indian tell them give me my land again
How many understandin its demanding that holds us back
CHORUS
BRIDGE
I know I came to reach high up into the trees
And I perceive all I need is inside of me
All around me sound the army hear them comin
Beatin' drums and teaching young ones to be champions
And never bums and always strong we will last long
And like this song defeat the Babylon and keep on travellin'
VERSE 3
I been unravellin' and stab 'em from afar like a javelin
Whats happenin the aftermath is unleashed
Before the past can be repeated and stop killin
Penicillin stop the illin we need scientific principles
To make sure were invincible the decimals
Diminish before the sentence was finished
I need no outer limits no restrictions
Till im finished I diminish
CHORUS
Numba One
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Barrio, City, Club, Dark, Drugs, Energy, Ghetto, Money, Ominous, Sexy, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Numba One
NUMBA ONE
Chorus:
IM NUMBA ONE THE KILLA DRUG GIVE IT UP
ALL YOU CHICKENS SEE ME WANNA RUB A DUB
IM A THUG FULL OF BUB I GET IT DONE MY SEX IS FREAKY NEVER GET ENOUGH
Mama im the one known to use that tongue
I don't be playin game snow so don't act dumb
If you leave you gotta come I'll have you screaming
Out your lungs saying he's the one come late or come none
Any hands on my money and they gotta get done
Please oh please put my mind at ease put me in VIP
With the young ladies do be the dooby lovely
Twist it up and set some herbal vegetables ablaze
Im the latest craze i'm into staying dazed
Gonna keep em coming till the prophets last days
People sayin you so lazy
I'm numba one is they crazy?
Always doin something maybe keep it on the streets
Maybe keep it heat maybe keep it unique
Baby don't sleep you know my love run deep
Chorus
Jump jump its electric everybody jump up its electric
But if I come and rub against a chicken head
Itll probably get fed that's what happens
When you least expect it I got my 24's through connected
People part floors of the dance hall half naked
Yeah I don't speak
I love the freaks I bump in jeeps
I run the streets
Repeat
Chorus
Vamp
Party Time
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Beat Street, Boom Box, Breakin', Celebration, Club, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Old School, Party, Radio, Sexual, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard, Synthesizer
BPM:
131
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Party Time
PARTY TIME
CHORUS
Everybody out on the left get your hands up in the air
Everybody out on the right wave it like you just don't care
Now we aint never gonna stop keep it goin all night
Yeah this is how we do it yeah its party time
VERSE
Wave your hands up in the sky left to right side to side
Im the mc with that rhythm right girls are fresh the beat is tight
What ya gonna do its Friday night
Gonna rock to the rhythm like dolemite
That sexy mamas out of sight lean and mean
So darn fine
Like to know you if you got the time
That beat shakin all in your spine
Time to party if you girls don't mind way you move is just so divine
Aint no party like a west coast party cause a west coast party don't quit
Don't forget that east coast party cause an east coast party don't stop
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Now the beat keeps rockin champagne poppin breakers lockin
The girls are jockin feet are stompin here to Compton
The heart is pumpin party jumpin bass is thumpin
Now aint that something keep on bumpin all night long
Party stay dope when I rock this song
Aint nothing wrong with a little bit of junk inside the trunk
When you feel the beat man gotta eat so im runnin these streets
Hustling to the hip hop im the tip top the best
I came here to express rock the mic I am so fresh
CHORUS
VERSE
NOW BBOYS AND BGIRLS its party time
All the breakers and rockers its party time
Keep it going all night cuz its party time
You know it feels so right
Party people in the place party people
Just feel that bass come on come on
Its all night long now party people lets rock this like
Always be the dopest flyest pimp so don't you test
Now ladies you know I am so fresh
The fellas say oh yeah
The ladies say oh yeah
We be the super magalistic freaks we rock it all night long
CHORUS
Pull The Trigger
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
84
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Pull The Trigger
PULL THE TRIGGER
CHORUS
Just pull the trigger yeah get it done
One for the money another for fun
A G's gotta do just what he can
Just pull that trigger do it man
Pull that trigger do it man
VERSE 1
If ya see me on the street ill be holdin my heat
This aint the wild wild west we don't have to compete
I see you reach inside your jeans that's when my whole team'll
Come right at ya like a fiend in the middle of a bad dream
Standin on ya chest and cant scream
I videotape it watch it on the flat screen
I don't pack a vest for nothing if you know what I mean
I been shot all up in Brooklyn in manhattan and queens
And you can see by the look in my eye I done died
4 0r 5 times resurrected and catch you by surprise
with the tek-9 we can get gully smash ya face like
its putty I been a little nutty since them fools started talking trash
pull up outside a church start a bloodbath
ill never laugh again until I set my seeds on the path again
faster than the average man caught up in a savage land
meaner than Afghanistan
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Im still standing in the street still holdin my heat
Still waitin on connections at the end of the week
Still waitin for ya haters to come at me and speak
Still got a number in my pocket from the club from a freak
Still a thug sellin drugs at the top of my peak
Still the same hot MC with the same hot speak
Still got another day with another heartbeat
Im up on my feet smoking ounces of weed
Hop in a silver Bentley only one on the street
Ya wanna pull the trigger get revenge get at me
Ill be two steps ahead like im Machiavelli
Still got that 911 rollin 22 Pirelli's
Still got my ammunition shots be comin pelle pelle
Still got the same insane crew how bout you?
When you come through I still be chillin and sippin brew
I know you mad as hell but you shakin in ya shoes
CHORUS
BRIDGE
Im young and im undone in the land of the gun son
Poppin off shots and I can never be caught
They keep comin and im pluggin em
Thuggin and im druggin em
Pullin triggers how ya figure you can get done
CHORUS
Refuse To Lose
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Chaos, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Promo, Scary, Sports, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
114
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Refuse To Lose
REFUSE TO LOSE
Fool I freak pity wack mc's step like oblique
Some flow in frequency listen im dishin this knowledge
And dissin the scholars who think that they holler
Don't speak battle enemies aint never defeat
So please come no no hesitate figure undercover operators
Poppin and provoking hoppin on my microphone and
Never paid a token soundin like hip but they hop when I flip
Boy I runnin mc things come get my blessings
If ya bust lip then ya gonna get stressing
Taken my blows and refuse to my foes to stand down on this earth
Is my stand to preserve never swerve on the curve its absurd
You deserve to be heard if you puff pop pop then its on non stop
Like the way that I rock do you like the way I talk?
If not I don't mock popular people addicted to evil cant move me
I do be an equal perceiver yes im blessed with my own distress
No matter how hard it press this is my only test honey me be
Sweet for ladies aint never met a killa who didn't agree if ya got an audience
Then we can mc and if you violate then you gotta pay a fee
Rock chill you got your fill pay bills
With these nice techniques I kill verbs syntax and wax at will
Top of the mountain king of the hill I am heavy light like levity
Swift as brevity this is steady b session is profession
Learn the lesson swift as guessin no deception am I vexin
Kick the wisdom got connections im not done I never
Use a gun where I come from we never gonna run
No stopping me philosophy got my degree in the street like a prophecy
Hypocritic I aint with it you wear that coat and fit it if you wanna be a critic
Don't rock a soft exhibit my freak technique makes freaks lose speech
She teach fellas freak philosophy missile misdirected most effective
When elected hectic im symmetric and the streets they feel electric
(counter contraceptive cause my lyrics populated the beat
fear this cause my victory aint never deceipt )
when you walk down the block
and you start hear me talk man this is my spot
and I wont ever stop
I refuse to lose
Don't speak about peace cause im hot by degrees
Do what I please make you weak in the knees
RAST
Return of the Hustla'
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, California, Chill, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Girls, Guns, Hustler, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Smooth, Sneaky, Street, Strip Club, Urban, Vibe, West Coast
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Return of the Hustla'
RETURN OF THE HUSTLA
CHORUS
Back on the street back holdin' heat
Back rollin deep claiming 213
It's the return of the hustla
VERSE 1
Time to shuffle my steps as I shuffle the deck
I could inspect get rep or just pop pop with the TEK
In the soft top I forget did you plan to get wet
Did ya wanna throw ya set up on sunset in the 'vette
When I happened to jet step pop you cant forget
With ya last breath last scream caught up in ya chest
What they didn't tell ya this is the wild wild west
Never smoke stress only chronic up in this
They'll put ya to the test hustla gangsta flip bricks
Doin' dirty ish at the hit of a switch caught up in the mix
Now ya doin 2 to 6 what happened to the clique?
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Now its time to smoke reflect get checks and some respect
By the same fools wanted you hangin by the neck
Now its kiss kiss and pound pound the sound comin'
From every speaker every truck in every town
The sound gets drowned out the moment you found out
The snakes in the grass made a pass for your cash
In a suit and a moustache it's the same game different name
Gotta be a hustla every single buster gets turned into dust
I don't trust much people I see evil it sucks out ya soul
In the whole wide world ya know and im ready to blow
Sky high head to toe I feel it and peel it back skin contact
With the gat strapped ready to scrap im an attack cat
Catch that fever head to the receiver messages come in
Like the vestiges of an age old sedative meditative
CHORUS
Rock The Block
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Boastful, Boom Box, Bouncy, City, College, Drinking, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Flirtatious, Fun, Gang, Girls, Good Time, Groove, Hot, Night Club, Old School, Party, Playful, Positive, Radio, Retro, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Swagger, Upbeat
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Rock The Block
ROCK THE BLOCK
CHORUS
Rock the block - get the party on
Rock the block - 'til we get it done
Rock the block - girl shake that hump
Feel that thing goin' bump bump bump
Rock the block - get the party on
Rock the block - 'til we get it done
Rock the block - girl shake that hump
Feel that thing goin' bump bump bump
verse 1
bass starts shakin that 808
all the people in the place
with a smile on they face
got speakers and tweeters makin you vibrate
can you feel it in ya feet all the way to ya face
I just love rockin partys lookin out at the hotties
In the black spandex or them ripped up jeans
Im the ruler of the mic king of the scene
I can make the whole block rock like a fiend
I can make it so nice seem like a dream
CHORUS
Verse 2
Pour my drink on ice and ill make you scream
Fellas in the place just grab that lady
It don't really matter if you rollin Mercedes
Rock that body make the girlies go crazy
Don't stand on the wall lookin stupid and lazy
Take a chance do the dance as im rockin the block
Aint no other like me rockin this hip hop
Im the best MC in the place to be
CHORUS
Verse 3
Certified by makin this party swing
Im the best in the west best in the east
I can make the old ladies get up from their seats
Make the leaves start shakin up in the trees
Ladies be lovin make em weak in the knees
Paris Tokyo London belize
I rock around the world like you wouldn't believe
Shake Ya Thang
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Retro, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
123
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Shake Ya Thang
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Retro, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
123
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Shake Ya Thang
SHAKE YA THING
CHORUS
Shake ya thing move to the music
Shake it down like they used to say
We gonna bang to the beat prove it
Just shake ya thang
VERSE 1
Remember when I told you about the wiggle in the middle
Don't giggle little tender vittles grown up now oh wow
That's my eyebrow raised up spill my cup bad luck
Shake it off walk through the club not hard not soft
Gators on my feet so I slide when I walk
Everythings brand new so I look tip top
Everybody bangin to the beat non stop
Let me tell you little something that I think you ought to know
Honeysuckle love and it starts to grow
What ya need them things hip hop bling bling
Just point with your finger give you diamond rings
Sike take it back gotta earn them things
Late night spot light hold on tight that's right
Don't fight shake all night gotta keep our heads on tight
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Now listen up tilt ya cup back aint no time for that
Black white and Mexican on the dance floor we can all be friends
Chinese South American everybody know how to shake that thing
Move it squeeze it please it tease it Japanese it dirty knees it
Breeze is blowing smells like trees move it flip it bounce it dip it
Slip it shake that thing real slow molasses speed it up heat it up
Dance floor classics we get spastic break break we could never fake fake
Get on the dance floor now it aint too late shake shake that thing
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Wheels on the bus go round and round
Everybody movin to the brand new sound
Move tha thing shake with the rhythm now back it up
Im a slap it up im a natural pimp with a little bitty limp
I aint no shrimp im a real big baller shot caller 64 impala
Everybody holler move that big round thing and make it shake
Earthquake never late pity more people cant shake like that
Move like that its smooth like that little kitty cat let me show you something
Pop some cris and the keep it goin back to the hotel
What we do well never tell keep it crunk
CHORUS
She Gives It All
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Club, Flirtatious, Fun, Party, Playful, Radio, Relationship, Romantic, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
She Gives It All
SHE GIVES IT ALL
CHORUS
She gives it all to me yeeaahhh
She gives it all to me every night
She gonna pour it all over her sweet sweet love
She gives it all to me from heaven above
VERSE 1
Stop that train hot like flame
Burn my brain walk that way
Shift stop roll with the wiggle in the spot
Stop rock whistle shell never be caught
By a player like me switch up my game get a fame degree
Sittin in the corner with a PHD
I see you have looked at me freeze flip
Move them lips bend over strip take em off them hips
Why waste your time with me cause girl I will
Shake that world lunatic to benefit
Politic I make it sick
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Raindrops don't stop hip hop
We caught like a shot goin off
I was hit this is it this it
Where'd it go in my hip that's hip
These thoughts in my head am I dead?
She spit words land like lead
Too good to be true play it cool
Not a fool im cool
Done with tricks im not slick don't trip
Don't rock don't flip come off it
Not a prophet
Drop profits don't stop it
More often than not
You make me stop make me rock
Drop top is on my brain
Little belly button drive a man insane
CHORUS
Baby come tell me secrets maybe
The we can freak it lazy fast slow oh good lord
She Know How
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap, Sports
Keywords:
Aggressive, Barrio, Booty, Bump And Grind, City, Clown Dancing, Club, Compton, Crunk, Cuban, Dance, Deep South, Downtown, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Ghetto, Kinky, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Miami, NYC, Nasty, Neo Electro, New York, Night Club, Party, Pole Dancing, Sexual, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Tough
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
125
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
She Know How
SHE KNOW HOW
Wanna see you dipped out – Like my whip with cream
Candy cane maybe blue or green
I like them bobby socks that way
You walk that way you roll
Can I put it real blunt – you stuntin'
Makin' me be like she somethin'
Can't be frontin', my assumption
Is that she take care of the business
Hair with a fist pick, can I get a biscuit
Cuz I'm a dog
But babe you know I work them jeans
I'm fast don't ask my past ain't clean
Baby girl can you get in the whip
Then we dip to the crib
Lemme flip that vid on some grown man ish
Cuz I ain't no kid
My fronts is shinin'
Baby I'm on sky high – so fine
CHORUS:
She know how to move it on the floor
She know how to make me holler more
Girl got the goods – it's understood
She know how – she know how
Now pop that off, toss that thing now
Make it rain them hurricanes
We 'bout to floss
Take a little bit off
Take the chain, I got five of them things
I got G.T.'s – we can roll real deep
Now raise them like you wanna freak
Put it in the party mode – girl don't speak
Just check the beat the way it hit the street
We rip the spot baby make it hot
When I reach the top I'm makin' panties drop
With my lollipop, no chance to stop
From here to Compton get up in that body
Girl make it move
She know how to bust it
Make it real smooth
CHORUS
She move it to the left – she move it to the right
She'll break you up – she'll break you down down down down down down
CHORUS
Shoot That Hoop
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arena, Barrio, Basketball, Boastful, Boom Box, Bouncy, Cheerleader, City, Club, College, Competition, Courtside, Drive, Energetic, Energy, Fans, Fun, Game, Girls, Good Time, Groove, Hoops, Hot, Party, Pass, Playful, Playoffs, Positive, Radio, Retro, Rivalry, Shot, Slam Dunk, Sports, Stadium, Street, Swagger, Team, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
116
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Shoot That Hoop
SHOOT THAT HOOP
Chorus
Come on baby shoot that hoop
Come on come on you know how to do it now
Verse 1
Pass the rock im the one on the block
With the smooth jump shot
Make the females hot
Cool breeze and 360's make the crowd scream 'ahhh'
On the blacktop im the sure shot with the flat top
Makin these fools knees pop
Im the street MC the underground king
Had the fresh moves at the age of 13
What ya wanna know about the way I swing
Hook shot while they beat box takin over ya block
Aint nothing better in the hot hot weather
Runnin all day mek ya mind feel better
Make that shot then make that cheddar
Fools come at me talk that smack
Money where the mouth that's where its at
Chorus
Verse 2
I shoot the hoop drop & swoop mix & match
Make em feel the truth drop & roll
Cause im in control pop that flip that finger roll
You know who I do this for love them ladies
Make me crazy make me wanna get up in the morning and dunk
Roll around hot with the rock in the trunk
Drive the lane and ill block that junk
Rip them moves like wilt the stilt
Got a game that I play like dr. J
Ima make you shook if you get in my way
Ima drain that shot like smooth hip hop
I can play all day rock all night
The man on the mic cause my game is tight
Keep it comin nice like you knew I might
Chorus
Verse 3
Come on and lets do it do it
Youre gonna break through it through it
Pass pass block that block that shot shot
We get we get hot hot
Wicked on the block like an astronaut
Pick and roll out of control alley oop
Then we give and go
Shoot that shoot that hoop I mean
Everybody love it when I drain that 3
Show You How
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Club, Flirtatious, Fun, Party, Playful, Radio, Relationship, Romantic, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Show You How
SHOW YOU HOW
CHORUS
Im gonna show you
Im gonna show you how
We gonna rock all night
And keep it tight till the break of dawn
VERSE 1
Hot sweat ridin in my corvette
Im a veteran I need medicine start listening
Skin glistening from midnight to high noon
We could rent a room get it done like boom
I need some soon you got those fumes
Your profile looms in my head like what?
Im not nervous lampin on purpose
Gully like no other be how can I be of service
Come a little closer boy I wanna taste of it
Move a little closer boy im gonna make you sweat
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Rockin the mic and keeping it tight my tongue do little tricks
Have to pay attention when you lickin them lips
Like the way you walk away the way you move them hips
Move a little closer give this henny a sip
Flamed in the brain lets jet lets dip
Got a chocolate philly waitin out in the whip
Freak then slow then fluctuate
Had those moves on my mind since the very first date
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Im a man on a mission on a mission a man
Ill show you don't speak with my hand understand
Bang bang like an 808 in every state
Make minds vibrate don't wait
Lets make the club the room do shake with the weight
Im heavy like a pusher used to slang a little bit
I wanna be legit serve you up with criss
The way you speak sexy at the top of my list
Put a hundred grand worth of ice on your wrist
Never thought it'd be so hot like this
Sweatin in positions that be dangerous
Rock all night so tight like bliss
CHORUS
Something Different
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap
Keywords:
2000s Feel, Bar, Bouncy, Celebration, Celebratory, Commercial, Dance, Dance Party, Different, Energetic, Fun, Funky, Happy, Hopeful, Joyful, Joyous, Party, Partying, Positive, Positive Attitude, Positive Feel, Promo, Uplifting
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Piano, Electric Piano, Guitar, Scratches, Synthesizer
BPM:
140
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Something Different
SOMETHING DIFFERENT
CHORUS
We doin something different
Getting into something different
We doin something different
And you wont know what hit ya
We getting crazy
Get a lil crazy now
VERSE 1
Jump up jump up get stupid
Sit down turn around get loopy
I drink don't smoke don't jump rope
Gotta get it gotta flip it gotta be dope
What you see what ya get
Don't mean nothing if you don't sweat
Eenie meenie minie mo I might jet
Didn't mean to touch ya girl I just flipped
Gotta be fast im on my toes dipped
Cant see be with the freaks
Whether at the club or at the beach
Better give me love and it better be free
Don't need no stress don't need no mess
Don't need no funkin at my address
My mind is just so dangerous
Jump with the rhythm rock with the rhyme
North south east west
Lets do this thing if you got the time
Shake that take that mama cannot break that
Shoulda been a fantasy ya cant fake that
CHORUS
V.2
Do ya need some beats
Do ya need a fiend
Do ya need to feed need to be free
Gotta get real dumb go platinum
Gotta make them duck we flatten them
Ya cant fight this love we just actin up
Gotta a little bit of juice pour in the cup
Get a little bit loose gonna smack it up
Is there some place that maybe baby you wanna go
Turn the lights real low
And baby take it slow
Take you out take you to a show
Scream and shout hip hop wont go
Make it last deep in your soul
Can you let your body go
We gotta be mind in control
Top to the bottom then you touch your toes
Up down left right
We can rock it all night
BRIDGE
Move to the left move to the right
Clap your hands lets keep it tight
Doin it doin it
Movin it movin it
Now everybody just get crazy
Now everybody act amazing
Everybody up everybody down
Everybody whooooo
CHORUS
Spanish Fly
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Barrio, City, Club, Energy, Flirtatious, Ghetto, Hot, Laid Back, Latin, Mexican, Playful, Relationship, Romantic, Sensual, Sexy, Soulful, Spanish, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
93
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Spanish Fly
SPANISH FLY
CHORUS
Senorita I treat ya like my Spanish fly
Listen to my rhythm and youll never ask why
Ladies be talkin trash you know that they lie
You know its just my flow that be getting them high
Senorita I treat ya like my Spanish fly
Listen to my rhythm and youll never ask why
Senorita (Seniorita)
My Spanish fly (My Spanish fly)
VERSE 1
Do that slow walk down the middle of the catwalk
Caught locked I been seeking exactly that
She was fly with the Spanish maybe she can manage
Don't forget the damage she did to other rockers
See you peeking around the corners at my shows on the low
Does he really lay 'em play 'em to extremes in the evening
While out the club pull a piece while he's leaving?
Hell yeah don't listen to the people pullin propaganda policies
Just holla please and follow these tendencies to get with me
Yes I am a mystery yes I have a history
Yes I get the best of everything
Why should you get with me?
You'd look good and I'd look good with double 760's
You comin with your own dough so I know respects shown
Blown the way cash should be blown
CHORUS
VERSE 2
When I know that youre at my home
All alone sittin by the telephone getting stoned
I make you moan fittin' in positions that you've never been shown
Sittin and listenin to Nina Simone talkin' philosophically
The seed has been sown hittin knockin knees
Baby please in the zone if were just together for one night that's allright
But those people who were talking smack before say
You look tight makes me want to sneak out in the middle of the night
Your body with no clothes lord knows what a sight
Im imagining things that are already happening
It's crazy in this world of mad money mad shows mad hoes
And the rest man you know how it goes
CHORUS
My senorita you know I need ya
Just meet me later you know ill freak ya
Spillin' Blood
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dark, Death, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Shooting, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Spillin' Blood
SPILLIN BLOOD
CHORUS
How much blood you gotta spill to make it stop
Cant be like big and pac dying for hip hop
VERSE 1
I found some inspiration when my heart started racin
Erasin the fact im patient shouldnta messed with the Haitians
Take a permanent vacation it only takes one word to be said
It only takes one word to be said it only takes cold steel to the head
It only takes a trigger finger to be pulled
It only takes one bullet to be dead
Foreign infiltrators debaters about the politics
We turn intelligence into some haters 'stead of college kids
A bitter pill to swallow people getting locked up
White kids black kids asian kids Dominicans
Diminishin an image used to be B-boys
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I wonder why some of the best die wild wild west style
Preachin' wisdom in the same breath talking guns
What could of become of some if they didn't die young
And dumb they'd make a phenomenon no bomb on rhamadan
And on Sundays we could rest no bullet proof vests
Call us what you want we just have to express these feelings
Of equality from off the chest
Now breathe conceive the world we weave
When we stop spillin blood then we start being free
We got a cerebellum for a reason
Time to turn the seasons when I make it to the top
Then I praise hip hop
CHORUS
Start A Riot
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Electronic
Subcategories:
Electronica, Electronica Rock, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Techno
Keywords:
Action, Aggressive, Apocalypse, Apocalyptic, Chase, College, Crazy, Driving, Energy, Exercise, Extreme Sports, Hard, Intense, Promo, Rave, Trailer, Trippy, Video Game, Wild, Youth
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Scratches, Synthesizer
BPM:
108
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Start A Riot
START A RIOT
I wanna start a riot
I wanna start a riot
Come on – come on
We like to party all night long
Don't take it slow
We like to party all night long
Don't take it slow
The Game Is Over
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, Chaotic, City, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Prison, Scary, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
The Game Is Over
THE GAME IS OVER
Lost and found six feet in the ground
If you don't pay attention gonna be locked down
The game is over
No busters no dust fast feet trust in the street
Plenty of possibilities in the life of a hustle
It was april 17 1985 my only street mission was to just stay alive
Thrived upon a game made people insane
Introduced by the same CIA who had made it that way
In the first damn place had to meet a money
Named school O.G. for a fee he could get you anything you need
Top speed hopped fences threw bricks saw tricks
Had a funny feeling in my gut that this was it
Believe I'll proceed to the next level devils
Had my situation twisted got to get lifted
Got to find the gifted put the money in
my palm son before you get rocked
Chorus
circle round the block just to get a different approach
if I hadn't done this wouldn't a seen the laser scope
back to proceeding with the feeling I was dealing with
I had to cross to Brooklyn cats got my back
but stopped dead in my tracks for some fiends wanted crack
I said get the hell away he said make my day
Had a split decision it's a scout no doubt must be other soldiers
Gunnin for me en route right about then schooly hit me up
The fiend got distracted threw him in the cut
Now I hopped the d train just to make it quick
All these fools on my trail got my head feeling sick
Now I just relax til I cover my tracks
Felt this tap on my shoulder didn't dare look back
Saw the kids reflection 22 my midsection
Didn't have a second so I dropped him quick
Chorus
Upside Down
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1970s, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Cop Show, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Funky, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Relationship, Retro, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
102
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Upside Down
UPSIDE DOWN
CHORUS
Everything goin upside down yeah
Everything goin upside down you know its gonn be all right
A new game
VERSE 1
Why ya wanna turn my whole world around
I was tryin I was dyin' wanna hear that sound
This is another day feel a ray of sunshine
Divine I wanna tell you everything on my mind
I got flipped started to trip started to slip
But that was way back in the day new tricks up my sleeve
Like you wouldn't believe I cant breathe baby down on my knees
On the streets
(givin it up party down) baby girl im all turned around
now im gonna play a whole new game
hey hey
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Beggin please baby please put my mind at ease
You know im done messin around with them young ladies
Need relief new peace new breeze in the trees
Jump jump bump bump party people want want
A new day new phrase new blaze hot
Dancefloor spot where I wanna work it out
Keep it crunk keep it gully with my little bitty filly
Keep a little silly now im on top of the world
(livin it up party down) yeah girl were gonna party down
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Look girl understand with the mic in my hand
Im a sky up light up the whole big city
Need a committee with fifty to let 'em know
I'm gritty I don't pity other people we are
Upside down in this round round world
I was lost now found got a pearl of a girl
Party people if ya feelin me now everybody scream
CHORUS
We Faded
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Richard Trapp (BMI) 50% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, Chill, City, Club, Cool, Cop Show, Crunk, Dark, Death, Dirty South, Drive By, Drugs, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Party, Prison, Scary, Shooting, Smooth, Sneaky, Southern, Street, Trippy, Urban, Vibe
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
94
Key:
G♯m/A♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
We Faded
WE FADED
Chorus
We faded rollin in the escaladed
We faded rollin with them crunked up ladies
Verse 1
We rollin deep and we downright nasty
Eyes all crooked and the fashion is ashy
Smoking on foot long blunts
Pullin stunts in the backseat
Tags on the whip say '83
I got aluminum fronts and I walk like a pimp
When you see me comin lights dim
Talking to a Mexican say you love
Them puerto Ricans 100%
Im here to freak em out they stash
I don't give up the cash
Got a big old burner underneath the dash
Loaded with a quick clip and them big mouth
Big talk suckas don't say ish
But im cool like the pillows of them eskimoes
Got to pull down low to drop the ride I smash toes
Style on pro
Hands on froze
Hand me the microphone in a b-boy pose
Chorus
Verse 2
Laser scope jump rope move pounds of dope
Its pathetic how the product in the hood is narcotics
Spot it and I gotta get it glove that the hand fit
Faded like a flat top legit
We in the spot lookin downright classy
Mama come and ask me clean or he nasty
Comin with his team lookin mean and flashy
Aint got a minute to admit it im a gangsta
Getting rid of competition in the battle c'mon
Getting 6 figures for this song
I aint worried bout nothing cause im faded
Youre whole style and your flow is outdated
Keeping it on point I be lovin them ladies
Rollin in a black 600 mercedes
Swerving like Mel did in Malibu
Sippin on rum I aint no bum
Chorus
Pull em out toast and I bang bang it
Got nothing on the books
(mumbles)
We Gettin' High
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Drugs, Frat Party, Gangsta, Haze, High, Laid Back, Lazy, Old School, Pot, Smoke, Stoned, Stoner, Weed
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Percussion, Synthesizer
BPM:
76
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
We Gettin' High
We Getting High
CHORUS
We getting high just smoking keep tokin
We getting high aint nuthin but a haze
(repeat)
Verse 1
I'm high like pie in the sky
I smoke so tough you cant even sees my eyes
Ice cube scope down in the bottom of the bong
We hittin all night long
Fresh like American spliffs in the morning
All the best puff come from Northern California
One hitter quitter man
I thought you got the warning
I like to drink espresso
& roast a little esso
In the afternoon breeze
Gaze at the sea as i smoke upon trees
Contemplate the golden state
Postulate extrapolate
Meditate vibrate
Up with sativa I get down with the indica
smoke tough all the way North South America
I'm always gonna hit it when you pass my way
I'll puff until my last breath nothing to say
Smokin and chokin and I put on the mask and I gas my face
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Cryptonic state of the chronic
I'd rather smoke a spliff
Than drink a gin & tonic
Beats in ya brain you can hear the sound sonic
Fly like hawk eagle over city lights
Flipped synapses the snaps feel right
Push ya thumb down on the bowl make it tight
Flick of the Bic makes the crystals refract
Don't hold back man & snap that snipper
Hold ya breath shake ya head right & left
Look up at the sky breathe out the big dipper
Automatic close up of the eye half lids
You do what you do & I did what I did
Sit back relax & tap the bombastic
Everybody knows we stoned we don't act spastic
Purple haze the terminator wrapped up in plastic
Faderator Kush & every type I been passed it
CHORUS
VERSE 3
California doctor says I grow my own weed
Dirt sun & water & the very best seeds
Separate the strains & I give em what they need
Toke it up smoke dope even in the rain
I smoke in the morning afternoon im insane
With my brain maintain I puff every day
I smoke in the morning afternoon im insane
With my brain maintain I puff every day
Welcome To Paradise
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Calypso, Dancehall, Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Tropical Hip Hop
Keywords:
Attraction, Beach, Caribbean, Danceable, Desire, Flirtatious, Fun, Island, Island Vibes, Male-Female Dynamics, Miami, Party, Playful, Relationship, Romantic, Sexual Overtones, Sexy, South Beach, Spring Break, Street, Suggestive, Summer, Upbeat, Vacation, Zumba
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Organ, Piano, Synthesizer
BPM:
106
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Welcome To Paradise
WELCOME TO PARADISE
CHORUS
Welcome to paradise anything you want can happen
Lose yourself in paradise
Living beyond the edge of fantasy
Positive position feel the friction
Its addiction what they cookin in the kitchen
Feel them hot hot hot
Bend the around and twist the sound
But im not the type of man to go down
Party people comin to feel the sound sound
Can you the feel the temperature it rise rise
I can see by the way you lookin In your eyes
Put on a disguise its my little fantasy
You and me together girl in ecstacy
Whats a matter with a little bit of shake shake
Why ya move it mama it's a big and round ting
Some a dem men a disrespect and take
But it not that kind a party we no fake fake
CHORUS
I wanna tell you about this dream with me
You and me together girl in ecstacy
But I want it to be nice champagne on ice
Everything you can think of every single device
Come on party people wanna know when dem feelin this
Lately baby feel so crazy move like lazy rivers maybe
We could take it all the way see
I got a plan I wanna put them down
We never gonna leave upon this side of town
Always pon a smile never frown
White skin black skin brown brown
CHORUS
Keep it jumpin rebel sound rebel man no rebel town
Always up we never down once was lost now im found
Particle peaks and make speak and burn like trees
Begging you to stay my woman down on my knees
All dem other girls be askin me like please
When ya walk in the room everybody like 'freeze'
We bout to make this party rise up by degrees
Raise the bass raise the treble move with the breeze
We the type of people keep it comin all night
Do anything to rock ya girl and make ya feel right
I lose myself a everytime ya come in my sight
We keep it goin beautiful now turn off the light
Makin me so crazy girl now keep that tight
In a paradise girl we never ever fight
Step into my world woman treat ya right
Push up push up keep it goin all night
CHORUS
What Up
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Old School, Party, Playful, Retro, Rowdy, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What Up
WHAT UP
CHORUS
What up lets rock this party
H2 limo and a case of Bacardi
Ladies in the back seat gonna act naughty
You know we rock the spot
What up get high supersonic
Me and the crew like to twist the chronic
2004 hip hop bionic
you know we rock the spot
VERSE 1
Turnin' it out in the club with Jamaican rub-a-dub
The ice from my neck reflects the bubbles from the bub
Strip off them clothes girl climb in the tub
Full body rub then it gets x-rated
Never kiss and tell gotta keep it understated understand
Im debated all around the world
Black skin white skin and Indian girls
Travellin' around and putting it down
Bein a clown makin the sounds
Too many people to put in equal stereo scenario
Why ya wanna be hater jealous of me
Don't think the game that comes with fame don't also
Come with envy
Gotta pay attention did I mention that its real
Come on everybody make em hot make em peel
Off come the tops man that's how im gonna steal
The ladies make em crazy gang star mass appeal
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Thinking about the rhythm keeping my seat in the middle
Two tender vittles to the right and the left
Holdin my breath that was the last hit left
Hookin up some more green and the branches
And bounce across the stanchions
Dreamin' about mansions time for expansions
Aint no way that we could ever roll with less than fifty
Plus we got the gift B makin people shifty
Party people pushin possibilities for me
Gimme the mic any night rock it right
Just to get a sight of me
Have to pay fifty G increase the artery
Like you won the lottery
Got these hotties with bodies
Beside of me thinking about is heavenly
Sheezy with the bubbly trying to get
In trouble see the only way ill ever be makin them hits
Make you party the crews about to get
CHORUS
WHOA OH WHOA OH WHOA OH
CHORUS
Who You Leavin' Wit
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B
Keywords:
Club, Flirtatious, Fun, Party, Playful, Radio, Relationship, Romantic, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Who You Leavin' Wit
WHO YOU LEAVIN WIT
Chorus
Who ya leavin with? Im leaving with you
Where we goin girl? What we gonna do?
Just me and you
You make me feel so good
You make me feel so fine
Its gonna be wonderful
Its gonna be so right
V1
We could leave this summer and never ever recover
Im a lover drive a hummer black tint 26's
The mix is perfection check this selection
We roll like 50 deep saw ya man tryin to creep
When I looked at ya but you know its all done
From the moment I come through the front door
Bumbumbumbum baby like once more encore hardcore
Do you know whats in store have you screamin out
Like oh lord now you know how I roll my pocket looks full
Nothing less than a g make me comfortable
Chorus
V2
Its hot this spot is packed and full I lean back and pull
Hennessy and bull stay tilt but im built straight sensible
Try to check the effect of my glances pants is so damn low
Be like oh wont take you to a mo but a hotel penthouse
Amex be like oh well already got cris chillin' but you got to be willin
Look up at the ceiling when we smoke straight chillin its that
Feeling that I got back there in the spot like you would do anything
Never care what I got we both slipped out on the down low
Chorus
V3
Let me break for a minute just to tell you
How I went and stack chips so effectively
All those overnighters wanna get next to me
No time for the dime piece need piece of mind
Least most of the time don't cease when we meet
On the street im complete lets go slow mo
On the video I love it how we keep it on the low low
Wild And Freaky
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Beat Street, Boom Box, Breakin', Celebration, Club, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Old School, Party, Radio, Sexual, Sexy, Street, Strip Club, Thug, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard, Synthesizer
BPM:
117
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Wild And Freaky
WILD AND FREAKY
CHORUS
Its wild and freaky such a crazy time
Its wild and freaky the girls are so fine
Its crazy they all wanna be me
Just come on down they getting wild and freaky
VERSE 1
I WAS CHILLIN ONE DAY IN THE HOT SUMMER SUN
Lookin good just maxin on my street havin' fun
I seen this girl named daisy walkin down the block
Man she switchin lookin fine and I love the way she walk
so I said hey baby come lets kick it girl lets talk
she said what ya want ya just lookin at my butt
I aint gonna lie I like the way you strut
Come inside lets see whats what
Ill play some jams have you in the cut
Pour some drinks call ur freaks
Ill call my boys and well bring the heat
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I had the party jumpin as the sun start to set
Now my boys got the tables and the dj is fresh
Next thing you know we got the whole darn set
Everybody just chillin and we aint got to jet
Party jumpin heart thumpin people bumpin start to sweat
Now the beat becomes hypnotic and the girls are so erotic
Babe you mine you my narcotic im the super dopest
Chillest wildest mc in the spot
CHORUS
VERSE 3
She said ok man I couldn't believe
Man my rhymes so smooth I got the player steez
I don't brag just boast just straight cool breeze
I got ten fine ladies tuggin at my sleeve
Now just sit right back chill relax
You know we came to rock jump up
now touch your toes shake that thing
While I bust these flows
Crazy lazy freaky deaky so amazing
Out the speakers side to side
With the bump and grind
She so fine she bust my mind
Willing To Die
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Willing To Die
WILLING TO DIE
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
I been dying to try see this look in my eye
First lesson in the street can't compete with me
Lookin' hard little gangsta making me look over my shoulder
Bumpin' a range rover with the bulletproof glass
Had to get that hook up some things in my past
Bound to catch up to me man I might not last
Makin suckas bleed lean out the window and blast
Don't try to sneak up man I think too fast
I hope they come undercover man I'll say self defense
Looking at my life I can't claim innocence
It came and it went much money been spent
Many wigs been bent back and twisted with the lethal
Times up game over ain't no sequel
Ain't no such thing as evil it's do or die
Gangsta hustler a piece of the pie
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Ever since I was a shorty on the corner drinking 40's
Clockin mathematics movin weight like an addict
Had my boys posted up stoop one and two
If some chickens walk by scoop two or one
Take out the back and then show em my gun
Ice around my neck make you blind from the sun
What kind a high you need? I'll let you try some son
So many enemies anyone could be one
Come and try if you wanna die
I'll make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside don't you see I'm dead right
See the one that make the lead fly down at midnight
Sneakin' up on suckas if you ain't got the cash
Say something son beat that ass with a flashlight
Run sucka run I'm the one with ammunition
Dumb sucka dumb you got the wrong intuition
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Come on and try
If you wanna die
Make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside
Don't you see I'm dead right
I'm the one that make the lead fly
Down at midnight
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
You're So Stupid
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, 2000s, Comedy, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Bad Kids, Barrio, Boom Box, Bouncy, Bragger, Breaking Rules, City, Club, College, Comedy, Fun, Funny, Getting In Trouble, Girls, Good Time, Grade School, High School, L.A., Naughty, New York, Night Club, Odd, Offbeat, Old School, Party, Playful, Playing Tricks, Prankster, Quirky, Silly, South, Street, Teen, Tongue in Cheek, Trickster, Trouble Makers
Instruments:
Acoustic Guitar, Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
You're So Stupid
You're So Stupid
Chorus
You're so stupid
Really dumb
You're so stupid
Don't know how come
Verse 1
I met this little girly round the way yesterday
She said youre stupid i just met you
You dont even know my name
No doubt im not the science type
But even when im wrong im right
This birdy looked at me like i was drunk on medication
Like im sittin in the baby pool in the front yard for vacation
Girl i kick that special ish
You got that scratch and i got the itch
Chorus
Verse 2
I think my new name is delish
Gimme 9 trys and ill make a swish
So even though you think im dumb
I walked down the street while im chewin gum
I used to be hard but i lost my gun
Now i pop lock when i battle its fun
Lost the whip so i have to run
Got no degrees no mercedes
Sneak some champagne on the bus
Little old ladies lookin envious
Gimme 50 cents you could party with us
I dont mean to
Chorus
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