Tracks Similar To Liquor Flowin'
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
Police Goin' Down
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (ASCAP) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angry, Arrest, Back Alley, Barrio, Boastful, Boom Box, Chaos, City, Club, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Death, Drinking, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Hard, Jail, Killer, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, Night Club, Old School, Police, Prison, Rebellion, Retro, Revolt, Revolution, Riot, Scary, Shooting, Street, Swagger, Thug, Tough, Urban, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Police Goin' Down
Police Goin' Down
Chorus
Police goin' down
They gonna feel my pain
I hear a siren
It's makin' me insane
Police goin' down
Cause killin' brothas gotta stop
Let's ride
Gonna find me a cop
Let's ride
Gonna find me a cop
Verse 1
Why we always funkin wit da boys in blue?
Them cowards always come around harrassin' duke
Make me wanna grab the sawed-off and bust
They betta wear dey vests
Because in guns we trust
We great the triple K's wit da AK's
Homey's on da roof pot shottin' e'ry day Aye Aye!
Punk police protect our neighborhood?
Wit dey boots on our necks
Boy I wish dey would
Try to Rodney King me
See me on TV
Face down 8 cops
When I gave up at Freeze!
But a young brotha's life means next to nothin'
To these donut eatin' chumps
They can think we bluffin'
Whether blood or cuzin'
It's our time for huntin'
Let me tell you wick-wack rollers some'n
We tired of shakedowns and brutality
We'll protect and serve ourselves you da enemy
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
The ghetto bird's roamin'
I can hear the shots
As here dey come again
Terrorizin' the block
Who gave dese leeches the authority
To steal our civil rights keep us on our knees
If I'm chillin' on da corner- with the gang injunction
I'm in an orange suite
It takes a lot of gumption
To treat a whole race
Like dey caught a case
I know dem cowards love it
It's all on day face
It's terror on the streets
Yet they screamin' peace
There'll never be peace wit the blitzkrieg police
They'll run up in ya house and start sprayin' bullets
A no-knock search made my grandma pull it
Poorly executed rip on an informant's tip
Wadn't no drugs in her house
She was 86
When dey finally hit the news that night on CNN
I smell a cover-up
Dem boyz is at again!
Repeat Chorus
Verse 3
Undercover police
The harassment won't cease
I know dey tryna get me
That's why I tote heat
When da cops is comin'
Hollow-points we dumpin'
I'm tryna leave 'em front seat of da car slumpin'
You gotta understand the pain
400 years of pillagin'
Slavin' wit no gains
We tired of eatin' dirt
Plenty bills but no work
You can call it what you wanna
They dirty! – The Truth Hurts
Repeat Chorus
It's Gettin' Nasty
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, 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, Electric Guitar, Guitar, Horns, Piano, Slide Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
97
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
Chorus
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty in Here
We Gettin' Nasty
We Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty in Here
1st Verse
A brotha finally made to the weekend
I need a few freaks
It's been two weeks
Poured me a glass of Hen
And now we rollin', chokin' on dat Bluegrass
Puff and Pass boy!!!
Don't play with me
Dey been workin' me
Time to let my hair down
Now I'm pagin Chief
I know it's goin' down
"Where da broadies be?"
" I heard it's goin' down at Suga T's majorly!"
Please, be the right one baby!
All a playa need is one right laday
And a sack of dat Supa Kill
Lick a couple suckas, and peel, hit the motel
"Fool, get out the way!"
Now my boss is pagin' 911
"Not today"
Tonight I'm flying free
I'm on a Nasty Mission, Nasty Girls, Nasty No Inhibitions
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Ooh I'm likin' this
Caught that herbal mist outside the backdoor
It's lookin' dangerous
Gave the codeword
She looked at my man and let us in
Homey's to the left dice jigglin'
Hold up dog, let me break these brothas
I'm causin' problems wit dey baby's mothers
I don't know what could be goin' on inside dey heads
Instead of buyin' diapers, "Dummies, give me dat bread!!"
Looked to the right, spotted baby in red
She licked her lips, rubbed her hips, and led
Me down a flight of stairs to a private room
She whispered in my ear "My name is Doo Yu Soon"
Are you serious
Her rump was so trunk, I was curious
I don't know where we was 'bout to go
But if she wanna get nasty, man I'm ready fo'sho'
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
So I'm on the couch and she's straddlin' me
A pretty pink thong on, I grabbed dem cheeks
Then she started doin' dat dirty dancin'
Flirtin' and jerkin',unzipped my pants man!
Ol' Girl, you doin' it
Anything I got, baby you could get
She put it in her hand and started massagin'
My stick was wider than a three-car-garage, then
She grabbed my hand
Gently put my fingers in her promised land
It was gushing, soon I was pushing
I had to pound her tooshing
And I soaked her bushing
Repeat 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
Gonna Fly Tonight
Artist(s): Derek Butler (feat. 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, Electro, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop
Keywords:
Anthemic, Attitude, Bar, Beverly Hills, Booty, Celebratory, City, Club, College, Commercial, Confidence, Confident, Downtown, Ecstasy, Ecstatic, Energetic, Energy, Exercise, Exuberant, Fashion, Flirtatious, Frat, Fun, High School, Hollywood, Inspiration, LA, Los Angeles, Mature, Miami, Model, Modeling, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Nightlife, Party, Pole Dancing, Powerful, Privileged, Promo, Radio, Rich, Runway, Sexting, Sexual, Sexy, Shopping, Street, Strip Club, Style, Success, Teen, Texting, Top 40, Upbeat, Uplifting, Wealthy, Win, Winning, Work Out, Young
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Percussion, Synthesizer
BPM:
125
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gonna Fly Tonight
GONNA FLY TONIGHT
Chorus
We gonna fly tonight
Gonna take it high tonight
You know we feel allright
Nothings gonna bring us down
Verse 1
So hot so fresh so free
Finally be who we be
Sky up high to the galaxy
I see you you see me
Bounce baby bounce baby
Like to the ounce baby
Big up the spot to the maximum
Pump up the bass
In ya face & the drums
People on the planet
wanna come and get some
African to the Mexican
From who we am out to japan
I know ya understand
That we gotta demand
All the pieces of the puzzle
Fit into a big plan
Gonna fly up high
And we never land
Chorus
Verse 2
We rock this pretty party
She got a pretty body
This place be packed with the hotties
Make me wanna go and do something naughty
We shake never shook we cool
Sippin on yak in the back of the pool
Feelin kinda nice actin like a fool
We act brand new but we roll old school
I need hot beats off the streets
Time to make ya dance
Time to move ya feet
Passion smashin movin mixin
Freezing flippin freakin fixin
I cant stop cuz im on a mission
Stayin on top baby what im wishin
Up in the sky lets keep it high
Chorus
Bridge
This could be the start of something good
(repeat)
we stop we drop we roll
we wanna get outta control
we stop we drop we roll
we takin it outta control
we lifted we sky up
we get so get so high up
flip to the top of the galaxy
to the top of the galaxy
chorus
Wiggle It Jiggle It
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, 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:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Wiggle It Jiggle It
WIGGLE IT JIGGLE IT
CHORUS
I love it when you wiggle it and jiggle it
U know I gotta get it
Oooh girl you making me horny
Tonight it's me and you shorty
I love it when they wigglin' and jigglin'
U know I wanna get it !
Can I get next to you hottie?
Rub hot oil all on yo' body?
VERSE 1
Hold up wait a minute
There some pieces up in the party
Time to get up in it
I like it when you move ya hips nice and slowly
Diamonds up in the bevel blind
I'm flashin' the Roly
Hey, Oooh!
Please excuse me mama
U lookin' good tonight
Me no want no drama
Move weight
Yeah I'm known in the Burroughs
Flip the stash 5 times a week
Made thorough
Whassup? Whatup Hun!
You seen me at the bar with a stack of hunds
All dem other dudes steady bumpin dey gums
You heard about the flow
Now you think I'm the one?
Only if you gonna gimme some lung!
Wit' ice cubes, let my brothers bounce on your tongue
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
What can I say?
Can I kiss ya booty dimples today?
CHORUS
VERSE 2
100 proof
The way you move dat thang
Baby you the truth
Ya need some new moves?
Suga, I could coach ya
I tried to told ya
Get tha picta
Mi la vida loca hey!
Da kitty's hot
Actin' like it's not
Now you got me on the flo'
Drop it like it's hot
Let me touch it
We can make it easy
Hit da coast in something pleasing breezy
Stop
Let me hold dem buns
Baby oil dem cheeks
We could have some fun
Roll around the suite
Episodes discreet
I'd like to break a sweat
Dancin' off our feet hey!
Come on, Come on
Get it, Get it
You worked to get me open
Baby you done did it!
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
Let's lose da clothes
Let me get it while you touchin' ya toes woo!!
BRIDGE
The way you move dat A@!
I'm feenin' for ya
-Move it for mami hey-
I'm checkin' for you
Nothin I won't do
The way you move that thang
I'm waitin' for ya
-move it for mami hey-
Girl you so lovely
Won't you just come with me!
CHORUS
What Mo
Artist(s): G-$tack
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
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, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
81
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What Mo
What Mo'
Chorus
What mo you got
What mo you got
Take ya best shot
(Come on) Yeah take it take it
What mo you got
What mo you got
Take ya best shot
Shut ya mouth boy
What mo you got
What mo you got
Take ya best shot
(Come on) Yeah take it take it
What mo you got
What mo you got
What mo
1st Verse
I don't know what you on but boy it got you stupid
Got ya whole family grievin' for thinkin' you can do it
Manana clouded ya mind- it come in clear when u HIT
They should a told ya well before ya shot, but ya blew it!
Come for my loot you been in pre-school-boy-I'm college
I pull too quick
.44 and 9 rounds spit
Man I sleep with a loaded gun
I stay on one
Tried to pull the caper now ya hangin' from a rope DONE!
I pump..pump..
2 a day chump
Hood king kill a rat
Pen tats That's wass up
Ya M.O. way too old
I know you dude
I movin' major weight across the interstate and you
Want my rep but you a fool
I jacked your mules
Come in ya hood, spit, and lift ya money and ya jewels
I'm bona fide you moldin'
Hate to have to hit ya wife
I know you know we meet again
I'll have to end ya life
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
So you wanna come get papa cool it's been tried before
I'm the one you wanna even the score
Hit my row you know I'm bustin' 'fore you get in tha door
Wanna be a gangsta but you just can't handle the gore
In a six foot pit
You and all the busters you come with
I'm gonna bury after my chrome Desert Eagle split ya dome quick
The beef's stopped after the tooly pop
Now the word around the block
Is yall pull and clap
Would a been clear to you
If you
Thought through
You would lose
Thought you'd bring da blues
To a do or die killa crew
Chose to test me and I blew my fuse
Left you in a coma
Livin' on a prayer
You'll never pull through
The mean green is the main thing
That get you youngstas hankering
I'll spank dat ass
Notorious the pain I bring
Always holdin' heat
The ruler of the block
Never scared
And I'll take anything you got
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
Don dada keep 'em dizzy
You wanna come and peel me
I'm a G you a sizzy
Hit the don, no one can, FEEL ME!
Son, I felt your plot ya eyes revealed ya envy
Top flight on ya comers hit list
Now yall all think ya can end me
Cause me and my folks hooked up
Wit lbs. of coke cooked up
But ya telegraphed the punch so we struck
My gats bucked long and lit ya up like a December night (space)
Braggin to all ya folks, on dope, thinkin' u'd see me die
But I'm
Lean, Mean
Love to bleed
Bad Seed
Different Breed
Top rank and undefeated
Boy you can't touch me
Three Strikes U Out
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
G
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Three Strikes U Out
THREE STRIKES U OUT
Chorus
One, Two, Three Strikes U Out!
Verse 1
Bread Winner
Dope Getter
No betta'
U betta'
Go getta'
Kevlar Sweater
If you think you gonna test my neezies?
Please these rounds 'll come whistlin' by like a freezing breeze
Ya breezy 'll be left without her baby's Deezy
Wit' ya grandmother on her knees pleading weakly!
You don't want it
Don't do it
It's a loser son
Ya plan 'll have me leanin' out the window dumpin'
Don't let ya mouth get you into something
You never could imagine
It ain't worth the funkin'
I stay heated
Don't make me make you eat it homey
The O.G. told me just to hussle it up
Be ready to bust!!
Too many thugs plottin' on my paper
I get that feelin'
I'll just take her... Ya Mom! Ya Girl!
Can't afford expensive friction
My twin Nines 'll have ya head in the wind twistin'!
Repeat Chorus
Looked up
Couldn't duck
Quick enough
It's tough tryna hussle me? What?
I keep the Quality connected
But if you disrespect
I'll let 'em fly free
"On your knees!"
So many casualties
You little wannabees
It's really best you be easy!
Don't believe fat meat's greasy?
When I turn da corner of ya block in black
Keed, me with three patnas and the AK Straps
Perhaps,
You'll remember the jewel
Blessed ya but you chose to ignore the schoolin'
Second strike homey and I wish you much luck
Believe me! The drama's so beneath me
Discreetly, I'm a end it all
Come and get it all
After all
You don't want to brawl
Mayhem 'til they all crawl!
That's a real Thug anthem
There ain't no talkin'
We just clap 'em!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
You don't really want it
You don't really want it
You don't want it!
You don't want it with me
I'm a G for real
You don't really want it
You don't want it
You don't really want it
Ventilate ya brains
Burn ya house & peel!
You don't really want it
You don't really want it
You don't want it!
I know one thing, my heart ain't pumping
Koolaid, you minimum wage
Boy, wit' dis gauge
Come on out ya house!
It'll be ya last mistake Hey!
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
Sal, Tequila Y Limon
Artist(s): Paco
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 33.34% / Francisco Jimenez Garcia (ASCAP) 33.33% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Tony Vose Music (BMI) 33.33% / Latino Style Publishing (ASCAP) 33.33% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 33.34%
Category:
Latin
Subcategories:
Caribbean, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Reggae, Reggaeton, World, World Caribbean
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Arrest, Barrio, Bathing Suits, Beach, Celebration, Chaos, Cinco De Mayo, City, Club, Compton, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Cruise, Cuba, Dancing, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drinking, Drive By, Drugs, Drunk, East LA, Energy, Ethnic, Fun, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Groovy, Guns, Heat, Hot, Island, Jail, Lute, Mean, Mexico, Miami, Mug Shot, Ominous, Outrage, Party, Prison, Rage, Rape, Riot, Sand, Scary, Shooting, Shots, South Central, Spanish Lyrics, Spring Break, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Struggle, Summer, Sun, Tanning, Travel, Tropics, Vacation, Violence, Waves
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Organ, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
83
Language:
Spanish
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Sal, Tequila Y Limon
SAL, TEQUILA Y LIMON
SALT, TEQUILA AND LEMON
Pues aquí estamos
So here we are
Con la sal, el tequila y el limón
With salt, tequila and the lime
That's the deal
That's the deal
Y el bongo que suena cabrón
And the bongo sounds strong
Ella se alborota cuando siente este ritmo
She gets excited when she feels this rhythm
Que le sube por las venas y le encanta
Goes up her veins and she loves it
Siempre despistada ella me tira una mirada
Always in a blur she sends me a look
Yo lo gozo y me encanta como baila
I love it and love how she dances
I just try to make her feel
I just try to make her feel like
La chica más bonita
The prettiest girl
La chica que en la pista se levanta
The girl who tears up the dance floor
Pon sal y tequila
Put salt and tequila
Un pedazo de limón
A piece of lime
Y verán como este guey a ella le canta
And check out how this dude sings to her
Bongo que bongo
Bongo what a bongo
Sabor que suena y que gozo
Flavor that rocks and I enjoy
Bongo que bongo
Bongo what a bongo
Sabor que suena y que gozo
Flavor that rocks and I enjoy
Pásala, (hea!) muévela, (mira) gózala...que buen culo
Pass her (hea!), move her (look!), enjoy... what a booty
Pásala, (hea!)muévela, (mira!) mírala...que buen culo
Pass her (hea!), move her (look!), view her... what a booty
CHORUS (2x)
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Y el mundo a todos se nos cambia
And the world changes for us
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Solitas caen por las ganas
The girls fall on their own
Todos en el baile siempre quieren estar con ella
Everyone always wants to be with her
Pero ella bola a mi solo me lanza
But she only flirts with me
Y yo lo he notado cuando subo a la tarima
And I notice when I go up on stage
Ella corriendo se levanta
She's the first one up
Para que tú sepas, mama
Just so you know, mama
Que es lo que tú quieres, mama
What you want, mama
Donde es que lo quieres, mami
Wherever you want it, mama
Que todito tengo, mama
I've got it all, mama
Porque tus sabes, mamita
Because you know, mamita
Que lo tengo todo
That I've got it
Y es que tú lo sabes
And you just know it
Lo que tengo para ti esta bien
What I got for you is good
Mueve esas nalgas, mama
Move that ass, mama
Pide lo que quieras, mama
Ask for anything, mama
Para que tú sepas, mama
Just so you know, mama
Que es lo que tú quieres, mama
What you want, mama
Donde es que lo quieres, mami
Wherever you want it, mama
Que todito tengo, mama
I've got it all, mama
Mueve esas nalgas, mama
Move that ass, mama
Pide lo que quieras, mama
Ask for anything, mama
Porque tus sabes, mamita
Because you know, mamita
Que lo tengo todo
That I've got it
Y es que tú lo sabes
And you just know it
Lo que tengo para ti esta bien
What I got for you is good
CHORUS (2x)
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Y el mundo a todos se nos cambia
And the world changes for us
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Solitas caen por las ganas
The girls fall on their own
Pásala, (hea!) muévela, (mira) gózala...que buen culo
Pass her (hea!), move her (look!), enjoy... what a booty
Pásala, (hea!)muévela, (mira!) mírala...que buen culo
Pass her (hea!), move her (look!), view her... what a booty
I just try to make her feel
I just try to make her feel like
La chica más bonita
The prettiest girl
La chica que en la pista se levanta
The girl who tears up the dance floor
Pon sal y tequila
Put salt and tequila
Un pedazo de limón
A piece of lime
Y verán como este guey a ella le canta
And check out how this dude sings to her
CHORUS (2x)
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Y el mundo a todos se nos cambia
And the world changes for us
Sal, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Solitas caen por las ganas
The girls fall on their own
So baby, here's the deal
So baby, here's the deal
Aquí estamos
Here we are
Salcicta, tequila y limón
Salt, tequila and lime
Pa' que goce
For fun
Este ritmo esta cabron
This rhythm is hot
Este ritmo esta cabron
This rhythm is hot
Y vamos gozando sal, tequila y limón
Having fun, salt, tequila and lime
That's the deal, yeah!
That's the deal, yeah!
You got it!
You got it!
Rub-A-Dub
Artist(s): G-$tack
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
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, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
Year Recorded:
2003
BPM:
86
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Rub-A-Dub
Rub-A-Dub
CHORUS
We go wild go wild - gonna do it supa freaky style
In the front back hot crack hump awhile
We pop the bub in the tub give it up
Gonna do the rub-a-dub, the rub-a-dub
When I'm up in da club
I like to Rub-A-Dub
Head straight to the bar, I'm blazed
I sip on some bub - I'm known
So all the honeys wanna give me some love
Every weekend G it's the same - It's never enough
10" inch long - They know they can't go wrong wit a thug
They know I plug - Lady's hollerin', Dog- I hammer the rug!!
It don't matter, cause any spot we in
We gon' win- Oooh!! Go head girl show me some skin
There it is!! Here we go!! Baby twerk your skirt
You may the perfect little somethin' to take back for some work
Hit the VIP- Give me some head – Get in her head
It's brains and money homey - Me, I don't need a bed
I like the way you girlin'
Crushed ice in your mouth
Slurp up on my nuts
This what's life's about
Turn around, let me hit it from back
It's wild in the club
Freakin' all night caught up in a Rub-A-Dub
It gets wild in the club
CHORUS
Repeat Pre Verse
Bounce baby's bouncing like a '64
I'm goin' for mine
Her but up off the floor
She got more bump than a little
Throw it back at me
This Magnum is aimed to please
I know it's hard to breath
I know they told I was thunderin'
Up in them walls
That's the only reason you back here
In a skirt with no draws
I'll give you what you need Girl
I stroke it mean
Dat crack hot, wet, tight
I can see the steam
I'm a P.I.M.P from a unit full of scrilla stackers
Don't leave your girl around me
Cause I'm a have to mack her
After about 10 minutes
We'll be in the back of the club
Trees in the air
Doin' all kind of freeky stuff
Like this one here
When I first saw here I knew she was a winner
Damn baby you freaky
She hit me with the sit and spinner
She said she want it on her face
I had to oblige
Pulled out gave her a taste
Shot the goo in her eyes
It gets wild in the club
So after the ep(isode), it's back to the bar
The rest of the ladie wanna do me
Just because I'm a star
I saw honey whisper somethin' to her girlfriend- her eye's lit up
She stepped away – now she wanna get stuck
She('s) lucky, cause I can last for hours
Keep goin' and goin'
Energizer bunny
All these broads is knowin'
That's what when she got the back
She shot a nod to the stairs
Next thing you know - Oooh!!
Baby girl drop
Hold it right there
Sit it on my lap
Damn its soft and wet!!
Turnover, spread them cheeks wide open
As wide as they can get
You're my second Private Dancer
And I'm enjoying the show
You can let your hair down
Let all your juices flow
She's moanin' - Man, I'm groanin'
The intensities growin'
Her crack is hot as a stove
And we both knowin
I'm only a couple bumps
From blowin' it out
I pulled out
She took monster out the Magnum
And made me put it in her mouth
Man it gets wild in the club!!!
Playin' Dirty
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 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, Deep South, 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, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Playin' Dirty
PLAYIN' DIRTY
Chorus
Playin' Dirty
When we ridin'
Playin' Dirty
When we clubbin'
Playin' Dirty
We be comin'
Playin' Dirty
C'mon
Verse 1
Po-Po's always tryna catch us ridin' dirty
What's up derty?
It's time to flip this birdie
Columbian stacks in the safe
We tryna make a bundle add the bakin'soda to it den you shake it
After you chop and separate it
You' ridin' dubs thru the town
Let the suckas hate it!
Associates in every state
But be careful cause the streets is watchin' all the money that you make, wait!!
We Bossin'
Don't get it twisted when we flossin'
We'll take it to the mats
We love to hear the sounds of the muzzle crack
Boy you don't want that
We'll pop the trunk and twist your cap back
We countin' money like the NASDAQ – it's too much
We keep the baddest broads – for two months
We been lounging down by the water in San Drope
Rubbin' on big booties
That's how big boys play hey!
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
When it's mission time
There ain't a lot of barkin'
We get on our grind
A couple blunts we get to sparkin'
Our intelligence is better than the CIA
Assets watchin' your everymove, everyday
When it's time to launch the attack
I carry the MAC
Budda got the AK and we both wearin' black
We creep real slow
Before you know it
You feeling like you floatin'- the world receding below, it's
Not a dream
Boy you've passed away
My motto's "Best ya pull it, instead of taking a bullet!"
So you little rat punks get it straight
We the grimiest click no mistake
Homey take ya time and get ya weight up
You tryna come for mine?
Have you lost your mind?
Betta ask somebody,boy I run this city
Another young G gone what a pity!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
GUNS!
We got mo guns than a little bit
DRUGS!
We move it in and out, boy we flip a grip!
WAR!
If you really want to test our menace
All I gotta do is give 'em the word- you' finished!
GUNS!
We got mo guns than a little bit
DRUGS!
We move it in and out, boy we flip a grip!
WAR!
If you really want to test our menace
We'll wipe y'all all out it's a dirty business!
Repeat Chorus
Play For Keeps
Artist(s): G-$tack
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
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, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Play For Keeps
Play For Keeps
Chorus
I play 4 keeps
Don't mess with me
Better get out of my face
I'm the winner G
I own the street
Ain't gonna lose
Digging a plot
Gonna put you down six feet
Repeat 1X
1st Verse
I took ten shots, think you can roast da Dog!!
I keep the gat cocked creepin through the fog
Sneak up on ya like a shadow when we crawl
And leave ya leakin'
And ya mama screamin' dat I'm wrong
Ghetto reaper
Black Cape
Dog, I'm sinister
Nobody pull me off the task 'till its done
And I stay taxin' and I'm warnin' you all
My meat I like raw
Walkin' these streets you showin' ya gall
To think you could ball
If daddy's lookin' who ya gone call
Cause when I seen ya pull the 44 den BLAWWW!!!
I live above the law
I meant to throw her through the window, see..
It ain't about the green
Boy I'm a MEAN FIEND
Last week a new crew wit keys
They rolled around here flashy
Think they gonna bling bling
But I think not!!
Cause when dey came around my way
I jacked 'em den I cracked 'em
Cause ya boy don't play!!!
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
0:06:00 ya hopin' ya don't choke
Ya spot me floatin' through ya yard chokin' da smoke
You wanna run for some shelta but come up shote wit my dope
I come descendin' like I was wearin' a cloke
There's no where to runna when I swoop down on ya
Go for a collar left right stroke and you a gonna
Cause there's no roller
Shoot straighter
No greater
Darth Vader
If I walk through ya door
It's see-ya-later
I'm gonna shoot it it's ya turn to die
And let ya body rot
We known to peel on spot
That's how I keep a knot
Get ta duckin' when you see me
I'm 1 or 4 or 5 major villains on these streets
With chrome gleamin'
Cold deamon
Ol' gold leanin'
Head the toe tag team and I'm schemin'
Center of da scene
And We don't duck da law
187
You stepped on
And we da raw
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
Now I told you young dummies once
I'm a killa toe to fro
Grindin' all 12 months
While(space) I soldier servin' grief
Ya smoke to much
You want my flow stopped
Handle mine homicide end up chalkin when I touch ya
Done(space)
Fool and you can get ta shuckin' and duckin'
Quit son
It won't save you
Young peela
The hood don dada
And I'm willin' wit ya girl
If you think you comin' for my green
I'll rock ya world
All the street brawlers
Is green as my top dolla
Wit all the yay I'm movin'
I'm ballin'
I'm rotweiller
Fa sho' bet I load and lock bite ya neck (space)
You a ho
G's give cuz much respect
Cause I...
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
Hot In The Club
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, 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
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
Down in the Hood
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
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, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
C♯m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Down in the Hood
Down in the Hood
Intro
It's a little rough down in our hood. Sometimes you don't even know (space) if you gonn' make it through the next day. You know, we down here don' what we gotta do to survive (space).
Whatever it takes (space). It's do or die (space)
When you ain't got nothin' (space), you do what you gotta do!!!
Chorus
Down in the Hood
We comin'
Down in the Hood
We gunnin'
Down in the Hood
We hangin, Roll out hit the street
We bangin
Repeat 1X
1st Verse
More smokin' & croakin' down in the hood
Know folks don died floating like a bloc a wood
We choose to chop & chop and
Move it block to block
Seen a little money now we just can stop- What?
Lookin' like ya wanna run up... Look like ya not
Think you gonna rob me
That's how a playa gets shot
I was bummy wit da homie just yesterday,
Moved a bundle on the humble- stacked
Now I'm on my way!!
Partnas on the streets loc'in-up
Everybody's fingers on a trigga'
dey might erupt
Fiends on da hunt schemin'- comin' by the spot
I keep a AR under the couch
What would you do if you were hot?
I keep unloadin' the glock
Dis is 4 block!
Gang descendant
I've been shown a lot
How to rock cane
Blow a brain
Rollin? Call my main
Foes I fold 'em
Team a killas
Now the streets know my name
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Two on the corner, six on the 4th floor
All da covers is rovin' knowin' it won't go
Tell all the fellas, tell all dey chickens dat don't know
If they need da dough and down for a trip
Den here we go!!
Dey bugged da celly so get wit me
Feel da heat split it
Pour it down the drain
Twenty strong and we sic wit it
We up'd the grimeyness during my reign
Yall sheep in this jungle, ya fallin'
And I'm Orangutan
Check the po(lice) file
She Used to be a queen
Now she a hooker
Saw her wit' a cop just chillin' for five minutes
if they book her
And it get back she get to talkin'
den I'll have to cook her
Playin' checkers when its chess boy I'll have to rook her
Locked & Cocked cause up in dese streets is BIG BEEF
No telling what they'll do behind a pipe and some coca leaf
But if you wanna get loose lips messin wit my grip
They'll probably find ya body in ya wip - DON'T PLAY WIT' ME!!!
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
Soldiers we roll wit da 44 nixin'
all da phonies in da mix while we on our mission
Lbs. of work up in tha mo- bags is glistenin'
From Vaseline
When da phone ring
Da feds' listenin'
I'm up to da challenge. My foes quick ta dump
Young crooks dey wanna move up
Da lure of a buck
My head up on a swivel since a brotha blew up
Cause where we grew up
Ya girl a pump two in ya gut
Vamp
In my hood
It's life or death
These streets don't play
Down in da hood it's do-or-die
Make a bad move and you can lose your life
Repeat
Dirty Money
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Money, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
82
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Dirty Money
Dirty Money
Chorus
Dirty Money makes the world go round
Y'all love the benjamins I toss on the ground
Dirty Money drives a dog insane
I gotta fist full of paper, It's all bloodstained
Repeat 1x
Verse 1
It's cold out here
Two minutes on my block you taste the atmosphere
It's sour on your lips
The back of ya throat's real dry
Ya stomach's turnin' over
An hour later you cry
We keep it gulley loved one
We don't care about nothin'
Preoccupied with our ones
Keep our adversaries starin' down the barrel of a gun
Rich, poor, young, old, they can all get some!!
Bridge1
"For the Money"
Choppin' rocks
Weed lacin'
You hussla?
Catch you slippin' put 'dese bullets in ya face
"I don't know"
Who made the rules of the game
Beirut or the Block, home it's all the same
"If you can't take it"
Stay of the streets for real
It's not a game dog
It's too late to get to talkin'
When I run up in ya spot wit' da Mac Milli
If you don't act right
"Somebody's blood I'm spilling!"
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
As the world rotates on its sideways axis
I'm sideways creepin' in the hog with the black Smith & Wesson
My victims never know, I keep 'em guessin'
Lookin' for some work?
Homey don't stress it!
I keep the pounds of weed
My white 'ill make ya nose bleed
Cut it wit da bakin' soda
Flood the streets
I'm sellin' mo guns than Walmart
Got a room full of ammunition
Throwin' 'em like darts you tarts
Bridge 2
"For the Money"
Duckin' cops
Enemy chasin'
You a sucka
Catch you slippin' put 'dese bullets in ya face
"I don't know"
Who made the rules of the game
I'm the bully of the block, yeah you know my name
"If you can't take it"
Stay of the streets for real
It's not a game dog
It's too late to get to talkin'
When I run up in ya spot wit' da Mac Milli
Betta open up the safe
Or I'm gonna start peeling!
Repeat Chorus
Bridge 3
Adlibs
"Oooh Oooh"
I don't care what it takes
I'm a make my paper
Thug life ain't easy
"Oooh Oooh"
I'm always tryna raise the stakes
Never hesitate to grab the gauge and rampage
Repeat Chorus
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
Cocked And Loaded
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, 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:
116
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Cocked And Loaded
Cocked & Loaded
Chorus
Come on come on - I'm cocked and loaded
Come on come on - I'm cocked and loaded
Don't keep me waitin' - - I'm 'bout to explode
I'm cocked and loaded - -cocked and loaded
Repeat 1X
Verse 1
I see you want me lady
Girl I'll rock you crazy
Girl you know I love you so bootyliscious
Mesmerize wit a walk so viscous, delicious
Top of my wish list
You see dese bills so crispy
Ain't seen you in a while- You Miss Me?
U know what I wanna do
And I know you wanna do it too baby!
You saw me roll up in the black best
'member when I put those hickies on your chest
I remember how we used to do
'member when came home from schoo'- when you came through!
Then I blew your back out
And then you blew my brains out
Girl you looking so good tonight
Let's take the same route
Me and you face down on the couch
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Ooooh! It's still like dat?
Still like it when I grip dat fat?
I gotta big bone to bury
That Brazilian on them lips is down right scary
Still taste like honey
It's all hot, drop, pop, stop running!
I know it feels real good!
Bite ya lip when you grip
Take this wood
You so grown and creamy
Had to grab ya hair
Moaning, Screaming
10 minutes in, both beaming
It's steaming
An hour later, I'm leaning
An hour later, know what I'm thinking?
I'm COCKED AGAIN AND TWEAKING!
Let me move it side-to-side, in-and-out, find ya G-spot
Tap it till it's LEAKING!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
I'm comin' in the back do'
Gonna give it to you like you really want it baby
I'm comin' in the back do'
Gonna give it to you like you really want it baby
There's sweat drippin on the flo'
It's so Hot in here
It's so Hot
I'm comin' in the back do'
It's so Hot in Here
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
I'm so cocked!
Bring It On
Artist(s): Slur-P
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 33.34% / David Armitage (BMI) 33.33% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Tony Vose Music (BMI) 33.33% / Tech Styles Music (BMI) 33.33% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 33.34%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Hip Hop, Indie, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap, Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Club, Cop Show, Dark, Death, Drive By, Drugs, Energy, Explicit Lyrics, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Mean, Ominous, Party, Prison, Promo, Scary, Sex, Shooting, Sports, Street, Strip Club, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bring It On
BRING IT ON (Clean)
Man these little fools think they can step up and try to question my authority
Don't they know it's life or death out here in the city streets
Rockin' these gritty beats, please
Ill disease manifest in violent fantasies and tendencies to overreact attack and ransack villages the pillager like Ghengis Khan you relate the source of infinite hate that motivates a killer the shark the 24-7 hunter red eyes gleam search for the mark wak MC on pipe dream step to the cipher to sharpen my claws loosen some jaws give final rites say goodnight and send 'em home in a box my fight not I'm hyped ready for war check my arsenal and strap refresh ammo and head for the door want a firefight slide into the night a deadly shadow that could shift the stitch of the fates with one riff and unleash a massacre I'm blastin master assassin on the warpath can't hold back it's full blast comin ill to correct catch wreck and snap necks with some raw ass funk no need for special effects
Chorus:
Bring it on
You wanna play me
Think I'm crazy
I'm gonna show you
Blow you away
I can take anything you got
Shoot your shot wake up cause
I own this game
Lab explosion you're dozin I'm swingin for the balcony rows and your flows are stopping at your toes your sole projection you're clothes and watch chose to perfection grab the steel and your as real as 'its at a porno convention I outbox you one handed outfox at every twist and turn of my command of reckless abandon more shots landed your crew can't stand it watchin my underhanded tactics expose your need for more practice I'm sharp like cactus spikes light up the mike and rock block your weakness while I freak this hip hop true MC battle me and be left in memory or just forgotten as one more fate who's style is rotten you're a seed that never sprouted you never made the first stage when I engage I'm lethal as a twelve gauge at close range my battle axioms are razor sharp practice the dark arts I'll cut out your heart from the start your marked
Chorus
There's no escape from this reality just another casualty of combat better go back slow down your drum track in fact start from scratch cause your whole style is wak soundin like a Jack Kerowac crack flashback I react my instinct go for the throat I wanna hear you choke disappear in a cloud of my gun smoke <> hope defeated I'm top seated royally treated warnings should be headed true contenders needed I'll repeat it if I must stay weeded when I bust I outlast and outpace the enemy is crushed dust to dust ashes to ashes they all fall down retain my crown go down in history books and catch jealous looks take off my cape and dance around like godfather James Brown when you hear the funky sound you know its time to get down the mike burner bomb sparker drive the party insane so bring it on 'cause I own this game y'hear bring it to me
Chorus
Booty Shakin'
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
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Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Gypsy, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mid East, Middle Eastern Influence, 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, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
G
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Booty Shakin'
Booty Shakin'
Chorus
Get ya booty shakin'
Drop ya A to Floor
Shake ya Money Maker
Till I'm ready to Blow
Repeat 1X
Verse 1
Shake it, shake it, shake it
But baby don't break it, break it, break it
Oh my God I love to see you naked
I can't take it
Ya' let me put my hands on ya hips and now I'm snake bit
You need to quit
Make me wanna strip
I can imagine both our bodies drippin'
When I watch ya' booty dip I'm trippin'
Schemin' on how I'm gonna slip in
Make ya hips bend
I'm behind ticklin'
Ya pearl
Wit my stick in
We both grinnin'
The room's spinnin'
You know what you do
How you do
When you do that thang
Make me wanna buy you a rang!
Duckin my gang
The way you make my thang sang
I'd win a grammy category sprung
Got me in shower hung waitin' to plunge
Girl you da' one!
Uh Oooooh!
Homey there she go
Twirlin' on the danceflo'
Wit a rump deluxe
U see why I'm always in the cut smashin' it up?
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Girl it ain't fair how you do that there
Everybody starin'
Wit dem tight pants dat you wearin', ya chil'ren
Had to be fun to make
I'm dreamin' of missionary nights grippin' dem cakes
For goodness sakes
Could you give a young brotha a break
Better yet, give a brotha a taste
Put ya lips on my face wit haste!
Let me fill up ya space
Undeniably you one of the greats, what would it take?
I appreciate ya!
U got every dude sittin' up in da club
Wit da bitter beer face
But you know they scrubs
Yet you showin' me love
Let's raise up
We can do it in the tub
Hot oil body rubs
Shake it, shake it
Wherever you move, I'll take it, take it!
Girl you ain't heard?
I can run a thousand miles
Especially when I'm runnin'.... FROGGYSTYLE!!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
"Bump, Bump, Bump, Bump"
I love the way ya booty's shakin' baby!
"Bump Bump, Bump, Bump"
You drivin' me crazy girl
"Bump, Bump"
Ya' waist is thin
Wit dem nice thick thighs
You can forget all dem other guys
You know dem chump's little willies won't fly!
Ain't Supposed To Do
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:
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
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
I Got To Have That
Artist(s): Crystal Web
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 50% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 50%
Category:
Pop
Subcategories:
Dance, Electro, Electronica Dance Club House Trance, Entertainment News, Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, J-Pop, Japanese Language, Pop, Rap, Techno
Keywords:
Aggressive, Attitude, Bar, Bed Mix, Beverly Hills, Bling, Booty, California, Celebrity, City, Club, Club, College, Commercial, Confidence, Confident, Consumerism, Dance, Desire, Downtown, Ecstasy, Ecstatic, Energetic, Energy, Exercise, Exuberant, Fame, Fashion, Flirtatious, Frat, Fun, Greed, Groove, High School, Hollywood, Hot, Japan, Japanese, Mature, Miami, NY, NYC, Nasty, Need, New York, Night Club, Paparazzi, Party, Party, Pole Dancing, Positive, Powerful, Promo, Radio, Reality Shows, Reality TV, Red Carpet, Runway, Sexting, Sexual, Sexy, Shopping, Spotlight, Star, Status, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Style, Stylish, Teen, Texting, Tokyo, Upbeat, Wealthy, Young
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
124
Language:
Japanese
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Got To Have That
I GOT TO HAVE THAT
Chorus:
I got to have that – I got to have that
I got to have that – I got to have that
Get me Gucci get me Prada
I like Dolce and Gabanna
It's exotic so erotic (My exotic is erotic)
I get everything I wanna
The rich come to play
On the Champs-Élysées
Fly Paris to LA
In Versace Shades
Chorus:
I got to have that – I got to have that
I got to have that – I got to have that
Got a nasty little itch
Boy your filthy stinkin' rich
Ridin' shotgun in your plane
Getting' loose on fine champagne
I'm a super sonic rider
I want you to take me higher
I'm Nirvana, million dollar in your wallet yea
Give it to me – I love that bling bling bling bling
Give it to me – yea I want it
CHORUS
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