Tracks Similar To Hollar At Me
Trials And Torments
Artist(s): Terrell Burt
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 50% / Terrell Burt (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, G Funk, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, City, Club, Compton, Conscious, Dark, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, History, Inner Conflict, Late Night, Liquor, Moving Forward, Oppression, Past, Reflective, Rising, Rough, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial, West Coast
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano
BPM:
90
Key:
F
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Trials And Torments
A liasion was apart of my biography
No persuasion fortunate not to begin from pervasion
Calculation high in this aristocracy
Clownish emcees got me feeling like a comedy
Repeated knee slapping 'til I can't take it
All the melanin in my skin I'm feeling like I can't make it
I got dreams and I'm feenin' for more
Until I get followed by the clerk around the liquor store
Afraid to cop a scratch off
Cause that could be my last straw
Waiting to put a bullet through my black jaw
I'd rather grab a book than a four fifth
The antagonists and conflicts never once absent
Interceptions that I feel are habitual
Join the dearly departed or will I touch residuals?
Neighborhood's popping, my mental is toxic
All the assurance remains chronologic
Trials and torments
The OG's kept me straight to avoid the precint
Trials and torments
The nickel and dimin' never made sense
Trials and torments
Breaking my back just to make rent
Trials and torments
What more can I give?
Trials and torments
I'm just trying to live
Great measures that cannot be exactly spelled
Pressure to the mythical odds worthless to prevail
Gravity of essence for a young black male
Witnessing smiles, foreseeing catastrophic trails
Changing to a statistic from a hollow stray
Six feet presentable since they fear my DNA
But I will rise higher in my baggy attire
Skydive through the fire til they hail me as sire
Extreme devotion is a part of the blame
Persevering sworn enemies that is a part of my frame
Ready and willing with a lot of energy
Defying to turn the tide of all the latter centuries
Trials and torments
Trials and torments
Trials and torments
What more can I give?
Trials and torments
I'm just trying to live
Recognize the Real
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, 1990s, G Funk, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, Bangin', City, Compton, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, OG, Oppression, Past, Rough, Story, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial, West Coast
Instruments:
Bass, Clavinet, Drums, Electric Guitar
BPM:
91
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Recognize the Real
Recognize the Real
VERSE 1
I'm like, straight up and down, that's six o'clock
I got, shooters on deck, with the pistol cocked
putting busters in check, when I set up shop
chicks giving up the neck for the game I chop
stack paper and bread, leave the crumbs for bums
cash flow as natural as the breath in my lungs
get it how I live it, ain't giving up none
got a platoon of goons that gotta feed they sons
jump in a foreign whip, put the pedal to the
floor and dip, fast lane with the cash and chips
all in, put your bet on the dealer
gets no realer, put a slug in a squealer
CHORUS
recognize it's the real OG
calling shots but I keep it low key
aks around thugs about know me
they put respect on the name, if you a player of the game
VERSE 2
you know the pedigree, we don't bark, we spark
you don't want that smoke, when the hood go dark
you dont' wanna see how it end, so better not start
expose you pumping fruit punch in your heart
I got ice cold veins for the cold cash
when the block's hot, product goes fast
catch me slipping without the strap no chance
I gotta stay alive to uplift the lower class
speaking for the streets, where the snakes play for keeps
and the slippery slope is steep
my word is bond, cuz life is cheap
watch your back cuz that knife goes deep, don't sleep
Right Now
Artist(s): Tay F. 3rd
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Deonte Kim (BMI) 50% / Ty Frankel (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV
Keywords:
After Party, Alley, Bling, Boisterous, Bottle Service, Brash, Club, Cocky, Confident, Cool, Dance Floor, Explicit Lyrics, Fun, Funny, Girls, Good Time, Grinding, LA, Late Night, Limousine, Models, Money, Party, Ratchet, Rousing, Rowdy, Street, Swag, Swagger, Tough, Trouble, VIP
Instruments:
Bass, Bells, Drums, Percussion, Synth
BPM:
93
Key:
A
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Right Now
I'm about to buy me a whip
Cause I remember sittin' on the bench
I remember I remember when I didn't have s***
Every weed sack I bought for somebody getting pinched
Couldn't pay my rent now that's just a day spent
Diamonds in my chains make you do an Asian squint
Jack Chan I stunt
Ooooo she old news last month
True we didn't wear those much
Only thing we could afford was some Dickies and some Chucks
Now its Ferragamo belts, new shoes in my shelf
God my favorite artist ever cause he made myself
Imma master pieces, Mona Lisa is jealous
If we was alive the same time I would of hit and left her
I said I'm really fly right now
Really feeling like the guy right now
My arrogance is really high right now
And if you got a problem you can try right now
Right now, right now, right now, right now
I said I'm feeling like the guy right now
My arrogance is really high right now
I said I'm really feeling fly right
I think I'm too good off myself
Spend my money myself
I don't need no help
Money money get a dollar spend it quick
Threezy Threezy never broke bets believe I got the fix
Believe I got the chicks, believe I got the piff
Believe I got the chips but if you ain't drop 5 then you not hitting shit
I said I'm confident and cocky and I'm all of the above
Stay higher than a dove that's rolled up a dub
I roll to the club picking out who I want
All i said is my name bets believe she gon' f***
Like a vacuum she suck, tell her get away
Your girlfriend front row yelling for a give away
High key your girlfriend wanna get at Tay
She better try out cause I'm living like eliminate
Any opposition on mommas I'll eliminate
Think I got a sweet tooth how I'm getting cake
Ohhh you think I had fetish how I'm getting weight
But I'm talking money n nothing here bummy
Stompin' Thru
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Underground Rap
Keywords:
Attitude, Boisterous, Bold, Boom Box, Braggadocious, Bravado, Cocky, Confident, Cool, East Coast, Edgy, Energetic, Golden Age, Good Times, Groovy, Old School, Party, Playful, Raw, Retro, Rowdy, Sexual, Street, Swagger, Throwback
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Horns, Piano, Scratches
Year Recorded:
2019
BPM:
95
Key:
N/A
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Stompin' Thru
VERSE 1
Fee fie foe fum, stomping through the slums
Here I come, here I come, grabbing up your crumbs
Diggin' in your pockets, bread in your baskets
I gotta have it, getting mines is a habit
Running up in your space, spitting in your face like mace
I got the flavour, they want a taste
I don't give a what what what
Try to step up and get buck buck buck
Press your luck, run up try to take what I got
I got burners that stay hot
I guarantee, I got what you need
Ain't nothing free, I got mouths to feed
That's me, myself and I, the trinity
Raw and uncut, that's how I really be
Straight up and down, what you see is what you get
You can bet that's a promise and a threat
CHORUS
We stompin' through, coming for you
And you, and you, and you, and you
(4X)
BRIDGE
(Indeterminable Lyrics)
VERSE 2
Chop up and roll up the cabbage, puff it and
Pass it, under pressure, blow a gasket
Steaming, while I'm schemin' the next plot
Locking down the whole block make it burning hot
Rush the spot, the whole squad hungry
We going out for the stash, run the jewels and money
Ain't nothing funny, my fingerprint's grungy
And crazy, might even bungee jump with a bungee
And still bounce back, give you a smack
Reload and clack, clack, clack, lay you flat
Straight up and down, what you see is what you get
You can bet that's a promise and a threat
CHORUS
I Need That
Artist(s): HighRise
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Alexander William Larkman (BMI) 25% / Brian C Frank (BMI) 25% / Jonathan Lee Ferguson (BMI) 25% / Jonathan Meir Holder (PRS) 25%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Urban Pop
Keywords:
Attitude, Ballers, Boss, Bouncy, Braggadocious, Cash, City, Club, Cocky, Confident, Explicit Lyrics, Flossing, Game, Hustle, Money, Party, Pumped Up, Streets, Swagger, Tough, Triumphant, Upbeat, VIP
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Year Recorded:
2019
BPM:
95
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Need That
I NEED THAT (CLEAN)
CHORUS 1 (2X)
Eight figures, Seven b****es
G6, Five whips
Four grammies, Free s***
Too many reason I need the one hit
VERSE 1
Stackin' rolos on my neck I need that chain gang
Rosay blacked the b****es out, no they can't hang
Black coupe with the rims riding round dirty
Then I'mma pull up with the tech click
Bang bang
CHORUS 2
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma keep on riding I won't ever normalize, no
I'mma catch a case a day I'm tryna catch a vibe
Cuz I got the squad around and all we are is do or die oh
VERSE 2
I'mma level up, go from ghost into phantom
With a look she let me slide into them panties
Said she could bring a friend, I already had em
But we can go around again and ride me like a tandem
A Rollie, I'mma need that
Designer, I'mma need that
A Patek for my momma
Not a penny for my daddy
Gucci suit, yeah imma need that
Hootchies, I ID that
Ain't no budget for a feature?
Tch nope, I need three rack
CHORUS 3
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma catch a body, if a body wanna fight yeah
I'mma catch a case a day, I'm tryna catch a vibe
And if lil mama wanna ride then I need her supersize yeah
CHORUS1 (2X)
VERSE 3
That my squad, DSM
Still gone rock, in the west
In a Kia, or a Benz
Got my back, SPF
I ain't ever be be like
"Where y'all at"
I ain't ever gotta be like
"Hit me back"
I ain't gotta ask twice to
Get to my cash
And I aint gotta ask twice
To throw out her back
I need a baby mama minus
The baby I need it fast
I need Katrina or Tina, or Mia,
She on the gas
CHORUS 4
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma keep on riding I won't ever normalize, no
I'mma catch a case a day I'm tryna catch a vibe
Cuz I got the squad around and all we are is do or die oh
VERSE 4
I'mma level up, turn hater to a fanboy
You decide, love or hate me from the stands boy
I'mma, get to Platinum status, do it with no hands
Follow in my footsteps punk b****, I bet you can't
A Rollie, I'mma need that
Designer, I'mma need that
A Patek for my momma
Not a penny for my daddy
Gucci suit, yeah I'mma need that
Hootchie, I ID that
Ain't no budget for a feature?
Tch nope, I need three rack
CHORUS 5
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma catch a body, if a body wanna fight yeah
I'mma catch a case a day, I'm tryna catch a vibe
And if lil mama wanna ride then I need her supersize yeah
CHORUS 1 (2X)
----------------------------------------
I NEED THAT (EXPLICIT)
CHORUS 1 (2X)
Eight figures, Seven bitches
G6, Five whips
Four grammies, Free shit
Too many reason I need the one hit
VERSE 1
Stackin' rolos on my neck I need that chain gang
Rosay blacked the bitches out, no they can't hang
Black coupe with the rims riding round dirty
Then I'mma pull up with the tech click
Bang bang
CHORUS 2
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma keep on riding I won't ever normalize, no
I'mma catch a case a day I'm tryna catch a vibe
Cuz I got the squad around and all we are is do or die oh
VERSE 2
I'mma level up, go from ghost into phantom
With a look she let me slide into them panties
Said she could bring a friend, I already had em
But we can go around again and ride me like a tandem
A Rollie, I'mma need that
Designer, I'mma need that
A Patek for my momma
Not a penny for my daddy
Gucci suit, yeah imma need that
Hootchies, I ID that
Ain't no budget for a feature?
Tch nope, I need three rack
CHORUS 3
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma catch a body, if a body wanna fight yeah
I'mma catch a case a day, I'm tryna catch a vibe
And if lil mama wanna ride then I need her supersize yeah
CHORUS 1 (2X)
VERSE 3
That my squad, DSM
Still gone rock, in the west
In a Kia, or a Benz
Got my back, SPF
I ain't ever be be like
"Where y'all at"
I ain't ever gotta be like
"Hit me back"
I ain't gotta ask twice to
Get to my cash
And I aint gotta ask twice
To throw out her back
I need a baby mama minus
The baby I need it fast
I need Katrina or Tina, or Mia,
She on the gas
CHORUS 4
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma keep on riding I won't ever normalize, no
I'mma catch a case a day I'm tryna catch a vibe
Cuz I got the squad around and all we are is do or die oh
VERSE 4
I'mma level up, turn hater to a fanboy
You decide, love or hate me from the stands boy
I'mma, get to Platinum status, do it with no hands
Follow in my footsteps punk bitch, I bet you can't
A Rollie, I'mma need that
Designer, I'mma need that
A Patek for my momma
Not a penny for my daddy
Gucci suit, yeah I'mma need that
Hootchie, I ID that
Ain't no budget for a feature?
Tch nope, I need three rack
CHORUS 5
I'mma stay alive until my doors are suicide yeah
I'mma catch a body, if a body wanna fight yeah
I'mma catch a case a day, I'm tryna catch a vibe
And if lil mama wanna ride then I need her supersize yeah
CHORUS 1 (2X)
Come Get It
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Aggressive, Alley, Boisterous, City, Cocky, Confident, Crime, Dangerous, Drugs, Fight, Gang, Gritty, Hype, Intimidating, Loud, Mean, Mischief, New York City, Party, Power, Raw, Rough, Rowdy, Rucker Park, Ruckus, Sports, Street, Taunting, Tough, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Saxophone
BPM:
107
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Come Get It
Back it up, back it up, punk get off me
Or get dunked like a donut in coffee
But I ain't a pig, I peel your wig back
Puffin on a blunt, crack open a six pack
Swig it, I get it how I live it
And that's large, the one in charge
I spit it, like an AK spray
Wet up your whole crew, make my day, punk
Pop junk, get popped in the teeth
This ain't a BBQ, you don't want no beef
I'll give it to you raw, homeboy, just hollar
If you wanna get some, I'll break you off proper
CHORUS:
Break'em off, break'em off,
Break'em off, break'em off some
Break'em off, break'em off,
Break'em off, break'em off some
You can come get it,
You can come get it,
You can come get it,
If you want some, you can come get it
Try to step to me and you're gonna get dropped
I got a left and a right that goes pop, pop, pop
Down for the count, another round of shots
Bottoms up, grab the mic and wreck shop
Leaving wack crews, dazed and confused
What you gonna do when this menace come for you
got nothing on the southpaw style
flip you like a waffle, wake up horizontal
I'll leave a sucker empty, boy don't tempt me
my fists are heavy, you ain't ready
serving beat downs, with the body rocker
so if you want some, I'll break you off proper
We In The Building
Artist(s): Monk da Monsta
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Marcus Cohen (ASCAP) 50% / Samuel Lawerence Gaymon Jr. (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adrenaline, Attitude, Basketball, Bounce, Club, Cocky, Competition, Confident, Determined, Dirty, Drinking, Excited, Explicit Lyrics, Face Off, Football, Game Time, Going Out, Gutter, Match, Mean, Money, Party, Posse, Power, Pumped Up, Raw, Showdown, Sports, Squad, Strip Club, Swagger, Team, Winning
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Hand Claps, Synths
BPM:
94
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
We In The Building
Caino beats, we here baby
monsta, gme, uh
its a new day
VERSE 1
All fresh bout to see what the night brings
should i hit em hard or hit em wit da light bling
whip tight, fresh shock detail
fresh black ice sent mixed with the weed smell
roof open, AC bumpng thou
i prolly do about a duece but im driving slow
i gotta make sure they see me
i talk a lot of s*** so i make them believe me
they fresh linguine, stuck like hemi
dey can take 100 shots but i got 1 that lean em
pockets stay creamy, yea you know I'm about mine
N***** think dey on, then I'm out an its drought time
un, man my whole team chewing
my squad been balling since the knicks had Ewing
I'm not you I'm poppin' bottle at the bar
you in here tryna drawl, im tryna holla at a star
CHORUS
Cuz a party ain't a party less we in da building
we in da buildin, we in da building
a party aint a party less we in da building
we in da building, we in da building
a party aint a party less we in da building
we in da building, we in da building
a party aint a party less we in da building
we in da building, we in da building
VERSE 2
Shorty bad Louis V everything
you kno me I'm just thinking bout everything
getting her name, eyeing her frame
tryna see if I'm the type she let slide in her lane, un
an if am then shorty we can ride out
take you to the hide out, an maybe we can wild out
un, an baby we don't need the lox
I ain't talking bout the lox, im talking bout the locks
we home alone, shorty leave ya phone alone
only sound I'm tryna hear is if you scream an moan
so gone I'm like life wit no bail
my eyes sharp i break it down wit no scale
un, an u can bet its on
an i bet by the time i touch town its gone
only kno is two things is what i say is tru
an when it comes to n town we make it do what it do
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Man I don't even see ya'll lames
matter fact, man i dont even kno ya'll names
I just keep on moving, while the rest stay loosing
N***** sware they balling its a damn illusion
where da drinks, where da kush, where da piff an hen
long as the DJ don't stop, I'ma get it in
yeah shorty looking good but i like her friend
even thou a n**** from the hood I'm a gentleman
Caino beats gotchu bouncing like a pogo
asking who running shit, you acting like you dont kno
GME fasho yo, shinning like soul glo
yea i gotta squad but i can ride out solo
Norristown cant nobody do it better
dis is for the ones home, an ones im reaching by letter
m monsta man the bol never slack
i got hard around the clock putting town up on the map
CHORUS
OUTRO
Shorty bouce like the cops coming
shorty bounce like the cops coming
shorty bounce like the cops coming
shorty bounce like the cops coming
pose like you drop something
pose like you drop something
pose like you drop something
Drivin' Illegal
Artist(s): Prez (feat. Haji)
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
David Lee Potter (ASCAP) 50% / Dharmesh Parmar (ASCAP) 50%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV
Keywords:
Attitude, Back Alley, Cars, Cash, City, Cocky, Confident, Crime, Cruising, Drunk, Gang, Ghetto, Money, Posse, Radio, Rowdy, Stereo, Streets, Strip Club, Swagger
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
92
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Drivin' Illegal
VERSE 1
Wildin like hyenas, brand new beamer
Players like this oh no you you never seen none
Wet Aquafina, Yea I got my green up
Shawty wanna be a rock star trina
Yea I'm a dreamer I dream until I turn it,
Now turn that ass around while I smoke this Kermit
Yyou earn it I spend it, never see me lend it
Ridin' around turnt up my L's suspended
Ridin' around turnt up my L's suspended
Ridin' around turnt up my L's suspended
Hook
Drivin' illegal, drivin' illegal
Ridin a Benz you ridin' a regal
It's me and my amigos, wildin like deebo
And they bout that action Steven Seagal
Drivin' illegal drive driven' illegal, drivin' illegal
Drive drivin illegal, drivin' illegal drive drivin illegal
Bout that action Steven Seagal.
VERSE 2
I be drivin' illegal driven illegal
You know what we doin' wildin' out with my people
Blunt that I'm smokin', cost about three O
And you know I'm bout my dinero like Rio
De jinero I don't roll with squaros, I be Ruth Chris steak no carrows,
And if you talkin' about no money you can move it and I don't need no
Nike sign to tell me I can do it,
My L's suspended my whip real nice, everything authentic
I pay full price, if I see the red n blue lights you know that I'm a smash it
Do about a hundred and get off the next exit
2 Much
Artist(s): Billy Gram
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Jorodd Phillips (ASCAP) 50% / Ty Frankel (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 50% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions
Keywords:
After Party, Aggressive, Carefree, Cars, Cash, Club, Cocky, Confident, Drugs, Explicit Lyrics, Freewheeling, Money, Playful, Posse, Radio, Riding, Rowdy, Streets, Swag, West Coast, Young
Instruments:
Bass, Bells, Drums, Percussion, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
91
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
2 Much
Oh my God, uh Oh my God
Just let me do my thing
VERSE
All my niggas all real niggas
707 young field niggas
Used to rock the Fila with my Hilfiger
Then I got the chevy let it peel nigga
Trill nigga I just want a black card
I just hit the backyard, runnin from the cop car
Yadadamean my nig serve the fiends that berries n cream no blapstar
Woke up feeling like a trapstar
Pull up in the hood gripping wood no Hacksaw
No games, thats Capcom
All izm it ain't even got a app for
Said I represent the Flats boy
Trap jumping you can't even hit the backboard
Oh my God Gram don't know how to act boy
I guess I'm stunting, I should probably make them ask for it
HOOK
I smoke too much weed
I'm on too much heem
Just let me do my thing
VERSE
Been about business since '88
Why you fake pimping get your paper straight
Early morning shift trying to make a play
S*** I was broke for a minute had to make a way
Blowing on cookie, Earvin- swerving
All black in the back of that suburban
Whole team working, Heem team, I don't do the Bourbon
Somebody tell these niggas that it's curtains
Perfect, yes- Baby am I worth it? Yes
If it's money on line I deserve a check
Keep a bunny on line with some perfect neck
A1 I just get up in her purse and jet
No flex zone, neck gold Fadavi piece
Woe is me, oh my god like I hit the lottery
Please don't bother me, I just want to roll up- hold up
Couple double cups somebody pour up
HOOK
OUTRO
Nigga I don't give a f***
Said we don't give a f***
Nigga I don't give a f***
Little nigga give a f***
Nigga I don't give a f***
Nigga we don't give a f***
Nigga gave no f***
Nigga
Got It Like That
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Attitude, Boisterous, Boom Box, Cocky, Confident, Cool, East Coast, Energetic, Fun, Golden Age, Good Times, Groovy, Old School, Party, Playful, Rowdy, Sexual, Street, Swagger
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboards, Scratches
BPM:
96
Key:
C♯m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Got It Like That
Intro
Ayo, yah we got it like that
Ayo, yah the Pockets stay fat
Ayo, (DJ Scratch "Here We Go!)
Verse 1
A party ain't a party if the girls ain't acting naughty
Pick a hotty, grab a drink I'm going in like kamikaze
Say wassup to my posse, they kickin' it like karate
blowing up the spot while we chillin' is just a hobby
Herbs try to copy, as they watch me and jock me
Acting all cocky, but their style's kinda sloppy
Stop me, they can't do it, I get into it
They shoulda' knew it, they blew it, stop actin stupid
Chorus
Ayo, yah we got it like that
Ayo, yah the Pockets stay fat
Ayo, shorty, won't you bring that back
Turn around one time, shake that feminine fat
Verse 2
Fly honeys never showed love, til they saw a brother blow up
Jealous cats talkin' foul better slow up
Put the dough up, not for nothing, I got them jumping
I'm poppin' bra straps you ain't popping nothing
Just bluffin', huffin' and puffin', ain't saying a word
Come around poppin that you get kicked to the curb
Forget what you heard, or get tapped on the chin
So just chill, pass the herb, say word and take it in
Chorus
Ayo, yah we got it like that
Ayo, yah the Pockets stay fat
Ayo, shorty, won't you bring that back
Turn around one time, shake that feminine fat
(DJ Scratch "Here We Go!")
Blunt
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, Explicit Lyrics, Gang, Gangsta, Getting High, Ghetto, Guns, Marijuana, Mean, Ominous, Party, Pot, Prison, Scary, Shooting, Stoned, Stoner, Street, Urban, Weed
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Synthesizer
Year Recorded:
2003
BPM:
90
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Blunt
Blunt
Chorus
We drinkin wine till we insane
Then we poppin down something gonna fry your brain
Hit the table and we sniff up the cocaine
Then we kick it all back with da blunt, da blunt blunt
Repeat 1x
1st Verse
Me and the homies we run the streets from dusk till dawn
Party and pump we pimpin every night its on
We stay wit da greenery playa put it in the air
Rollin by the cops smoking homey we don't care
Six soldiers deep and every gangsta got his own pound
Got some chickens that like to blow
Spread it all around
Sprinkle some on Mr. Willy baby put it in her mouth
Dropped her back around the corner
She was cussin and poutin
But you know how we do it's a P Unit thang
The pimpin they get from me is from the top of the game
Get em high and then we toss em in packs leave em in fits
Everybody around this town knows our parties are it
We're the baddest of the bunch
Nobody even closer
This is Ghetto Fantasy Island
tub
Man this is the kind of night me and homies love
It's a wild scene boy, playa anything goes
Weed smoking homey ladies quick to come out their clothes
They'll do anything for it people humpin
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
You'd think I was Tony Montana look at all of this snow
Looks like Christmas on the table
Comes in a constant flow
Stay cool we stay full of them chemicals
Don't be a fool P Unit rules we give it to you gals
Smoking all day the coke got my heart racing' fo sho
Six breezies all satisfied another ready to go
The homies kicked back chillin telling old war stories
I'm peepin the scene while they revel back in their glory
The blunt's got em talking
Blow got the honies stalkin
A little white lightning get tha bras and panties poppin
So much wild stuff happenin too much for the average
It'll fry your brain
Sometimes it's hard to manage
Kick back wit da blunt blunt
Puff a blunt blunt
I know you're enjoying yourself no need to front front
Out of all the city crews we got the baddest groupie broads
They like the power and money
We only give em blow and rods
Repeat Chorus
Mr. Pork I'm the hoster
Everywhere
They just wanna have a good time
Kick a private affair
We ballin out of control the Unit doin it right
Come party with us I promise you'll be as high as a kite
There's 2 in back homey waitin aiminz to please
Drop her a ball she'll give it to you wet butt up on her knees
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
Smoke....
Smoke....
Smoke....
Smoke....
2nd Verse
The room is full of purple haze and towers of powder
We in the penthouse tower
Hit both broads in an hour
Man it's 4 a.m. and we been up around 22
She wanna bang on the balcony
Hot crack with a view
The penthouse is smokin'
People snortin China White
The unit's been known to drop 50G's in a night
It really don't matter we're a full service crew
We provide you the experience
Dog u know how we do
20 bikini booties bouncing all up in da
Repeat Vamp
Sex
Artist(s): V.A The M.A.N
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Michael Alonzo Normant (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Urban
Keywords:
Alcohol, Booze, Casual Sex, City, Drinking, Drunk Drama, Explicit Lyrics, Faded, Fights, Gangster, Getting High, Ghetto, Hard, Hood, Hookups, Keeping Cool, Laid Back, Mug Shot, Party, Partying, Raw, Sexual Overtones, Smoking Weed, Throwback
Instruments:
Drums, SFX, Synth Bass, Synths
Year Recorded:
2019
BPM:
97
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Sex
SEX (CLEAN)
VERSE 1
To many n****** and hoes friendly's and foes
Like a bomb so we locate our exit in case it blows
The bomb that we blowing is excellent and it shows
Hell it smells you can catch you a head lift off of my clothes
Not the don but its some bishop magic won in me though
Yea she fine but the only thing im eyein is the dough
Finna flex spend a check
Sip some alcohol let it crawl thru your chest
Go hard no rest gone we gone do it large no less i
Ts a party we in charge don't stress fire arms on deck
I see some future moms on set my n****** don't let them encore yet
In these tom ford sweats I'm feeling extra on no X
I feel like extra extra long sex the upper echelon vets
You see we be the highest of the best
She see me she prolly drop her dress (Yes)
CHORUS
All these n****** and all these hoes in here
You know the rest
You rocking with the best
Don't shoot the party up tonight my n******
Cuz I see something I like my n******
Now bring it back
All these n****** and all these hoes in here
You know the rest
Somebody having SEX
We blow chronic blow checks
You drinkin?
We got bottles on deck
VERSE 2
To many n****** and hoes what I suppose
Is that once the drank get em going things will unfold
I got everything on my mind head to my toes
I match boy this here designer heavily known
You're not on my level that's fine n****** we grown
Let's have a great grand major time
And make it home
She ain't a dime if she alone
My n******* you ain't trying you ain't on
We got bottles we ain't lying in this song
I don't see top models but they fine enough to bone
N***** and they mottos f*** it I just make my own
Smoking on this chronic I'm keep it going
She tell me that she want it then her knees by her forehead
Make her holla go deep I stroke it
Stepped in got some showered then went back to the party
And i'ma hit her friend tomorrow if she keep telling her about me
CHORUS
BRIDGE
All these n******* and all these hoes in here
Somebody gone lose control in here
All these n******* and all these hoes in here
Lil baby don't lose your soul in here
All these n******* and all these hoes in here
This dro it's too much smoke in here
All these n******* and all these hoes in here
That drank there's no more focus here
CHORUS
----------------------------------------
SEX (EXPLICIT)
VERSE 1
To many niggas and hoes friendly's and foes
Like a bomb so we locate our exit in case it blows
The bomb that we blowing is excellent and it shows
Hell it smells you can catch you a head lift off of my clothes
Not the don but its some bishop magic won in me though
Yea she fine but the only thing im eyein is the dough
Finna flex spend a check
Sip some alcohol let it crawl thru your chest
Go hard no rest gone we gone do it large no less i
Ts a party we in charge don't stress fire arms on deck
I see some future moms on set my nigga don't let them encore yet
In these tom ford sweats I'm feeling extra on no X
I feel like extra extra long sex the upper echelon vets
You see we be the highest of the best
She see me she prolly drop her dress (Yes)
CHORUS
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
You know the rest
You rocking with the best
Don't shoot the party up tonight my nigga
Cuz I see something I like my nigga
Now bring it back
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
You know the rest
Somebody having SEX
We blow chronic blow checks
You drinkin?
We got bottles on deck
VERSE 2
To many n and hoes what I suppose
Is that once the drank get em going things will unfold
I got everything on my mind head to my toes
I match boy this here designer heavily known
You're not on my level that's fine nigga we grown
Let's have a great grand major time
And make it home
She ain't a dime if she alone
My niggas you ain't trying you ain't on
We got bottles we ain't lying in this song
I don't see top models but they fine enough to bone
Niggas and they mottos fuck it I just make my own
Smoking on this chronic I'm keep it going
She tell me that she want it then her knees by her forehead
Make her holla go deep I stroke it
Stepped in got some showered then went back to the party
And i'ma hit her friend tomorrow if she keep telling her about me
CHORUS
BRIDGE
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
Somebody gone lose control in here
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
Lil baby don't lose your soul in here
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
This dro it's too much smoke in here
All these niggas and all these hoes in here
That drank there's no more focus here
CHORUS
Ready
Artist(s): IamViix
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Marco Cian (SOCAN) 40% / Pete Momarr Scott (BMI) 20% / Zarnoosh Bilimoria (SOCAN) 40%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Trap
Keywords:
After Party, Aggressive, City, Club, Cocky, Confident, Dark, Dope, Druggy, Drugs, Edgy, Eerie, Getting High, Gritty, Hypnotic, Party, Power, Sports, Streets, Swagger, Thug, Tough, Trippy
Instruments:
808 Kick, Bass, Drums, Percussion, Synths
Year Recorded:
2019
BPM:
100
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Ready
READY
PRE-CHORUS
Taking off like rocket
Move too fast can't stop it
Got pull corner pocket
Yeah (3X)
CHORUS
Cause I'm ready, ready
Cause I'm ready
VERSE 1
I'm ready to take off like a rocket,
And it's no way that you can try to stop it,
I'm so high right now, higher than a cockpit,
I'm so high right now I think I might need myself a pilot
So fly and don't got no stylist,
Don't drive less it got no mileage
No time since got this on my wrist
Too sick, too sick like it's virus
PRE-CHORUS
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Ready to take off like a rocket
When my team link, it's a mosh pit
Zoom too fast can't stop it,
No hands, autopilot,
No keys, push, start driving,
Zoom (3X)
CHORUS
PRE-CHORUS
CHORUS
Big Drip
Artist(s): WEARETHEGOOD
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Sage Elias Rodrigo (BMI) 50% / Wesley Eugene Smith Jr. (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Trap
Keywords:
After Party, Aggressive, Bling, City, Club, Cocky, Confident, Dark, Dope, Druggy, Drugs, Eerie, Flaunting, Gold Chain, Gritty, Hypnotic, Jewelry, Limo, Mean, Party, Power, Southern, Streets, Strip Club, Stripper Pole, Swagger, Taunting, Thug, Tough, Trippy
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Year Recorded:
2019
BPM:
120
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Big Drip
BIG DRIP
CHORUS
Feeling like I can't lose
How you gon stop these moves?
Drop top drop top drop top
Look how the light come through
Yea...oh ohhhhh
Big Drip big drip Big drip Big drip
Oh oooh
Big drip Big drip Big drip Big drip
Feeling like I can't lose
Don't you know I paid my dues
Top flo top flo top flo
Oh you gotta see these views
Yea...oh ohhhhh
Big Drip big drip Big drip Big drip
Oh oooh
Big drip Big drip Big drip Big drip
VERSE 1
I been doing real outstanding
Working with the moves no dancing
I been in control like Janet
So high I'm on a whole other planet
Wrist like water with the patek
Drowning in designer I'm an addict
Your diamonds real cloudy that's static
I don't want yo girl I already had it
VERSE 2
I send 20 racks don't even blink
I spent 20 more didn't even think
I bought a 100 bottles I don't even drink
My ice too cold I'm need a mink
My diamonds going crazy I'm need a shrink
Whole lotta cash I'm a need a Brink
Got butterfly doors on the lambo
Who gonna tell me anywhere that I can't go?
CHORUS
Ubetcha
Artist(s): Yaydo
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Alex Larkman (PRS) 45% / Jason Aaron Garland-Milhauser (BMI) 55%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Trap
Keywords:
After Party, Bling, City, Club, Cocky, Confident, Dark, Dope, Druggy, Drugs, Eerie, Explicit Lyrics, Flaunting, Gold Chain, Hypnotic, Jewelry, Limo, Mean, Party, Power, Southern, Streets, Strip Club, Stripper Pole, Swagger, Taunting, Thug, Tough, Trippy
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
110
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Ubetcha
Bouta be a celebrity in my home town,
People that f*** with me? Like my whole town,
Cities that heard of me likely your town,
Cause the flow is hittin' smoother than a Jawn from Motown
Yay to the dizzo on the go hard,
Ain't met nobody dap worthy so far,
21 years and B**** i still ain't tryna hear it now the block list long gotta a motherf***** scroll bar
Tell me whatchu know about the kid,
Acting like you ain't know what he did,
Acting like your ain't hear what he said,
Acting like acting right gonna save your f***** head
Made it this far brought the whole crew,
Now the pockets lookin' straight up outta Whole Foods,
I been talkin' bouta mill, you been talking bouta pill so I ain't never worried pillow talkings what the hoes do
That Midwest slang gotta fear it,
Banging in your ears like rat, tat, tatta,
They say you bouta blow can you feel it,
Look at that b**** like
OH UBETCHA,
Oh UBETCHA,
Oh UBETCHA,
Flick out your wrist like your Rollie don't fit ya
Look I think it's about time we talked,
You xmens are frauds, your best friends a narc, Your bars jelly soft,
Your songs barely pop, and if your dawgs wanna bark then I'm letting the tech spark
Lot of em looking at me s-sideways,
Prolly cause they know it's going my way,
Seen this s*** comin from like a mile away, now I'm lookin back at the road like I'm in the drive way
Look I'm Holdin the truth, I shoulder the youth, might blow out your mind like a roof-a-less coupe,
And as for the crew, you know what we do, don't talk to Feds so I can't talk to you,
And I done so many things already where I'm heading but it got me thinking really what's there left to do
Cause I been pushing juice, and jumping hoops, and folding troops, conduct caboose and the Next stop is the roof
Can you dig it, can feel it, why can't you see my N****,
Independent, illest pendants, they depending on me my n****,
For my cousin, get to bussin, no discussion, ain't no IV's my n****
Going ignant, just to show ya, even at you own game I gotcha beat my n****
UBETCHA,
Oh ubetcha,
UBETCHA,
Oh ubetcha.
What I Been Through
Artist(s): Terrell Burt
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 50% / Terrell Burt (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, Boom Bap, Chill, City, Club, Conscious, Dark, Determined, Diligence, Emotional, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, History, Inner Conflict, Late Night, Liquor, Lonely, Moving Forward, Oppression, Past, Reflective, Rising, Rough, Soulful, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano
BPM:
91
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What I Been Through
They want a little bit but I'm too complex
The haunt's a riddled skit inside of my mindset
The irony quite inspiring with closed lips
But I'm way too passionate just to digress
Playing games way back to days passed like recess
Taking aim to stray crafts with the finesse
He renewed my interior, switched the ambiance
Not always black and white, elevate some nuance
They wanna reduce my value low like a coupon
Gets passed down for the duration like a baton
Frustrated when I can't figure out what you on
Invading buds and aux cords with this new song
You try to pin point, way too predictable
Faultfinders and sideliners are too critical
No missteps, even redundance is pivotal
Only a sample of bits and pieces is what I'm giving you
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Many angles to dissect, they ain't gotta clue
Cognizant of your prominence, it won't undersell
Promising but the dominance takes a farewell
Providing the whole but clueless to your worth
Lowtide so they can't catch the wave on your stellar surf
I like the boom bap followed by an asterisk
I like the trap melodics mixed with the ratchetness
I like the summer season minus the humidity
I'm free to live but not a slave to my liberty
Get a portion depending on the day of the week
Confidence crossed with inheritance for the low and meek
First glance may not appear what it seems
Windows to your soul only a scrap of ample dreams
You try to pin point, way too predictable
Faultfinders and sideliners are too critical
No missteps, even redundance is pivotal
Only a sample of bits and pieces is what I'm giving you
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Many angles to dissect, they ain't gotta clue
You can't pick up what you don't understand
Too complex to leave bits and pieces upper hand
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
You can't pick up what you don't understand
Too complex to leave bits and pieces upper hand
Important
Artist(s): Sauce Party
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Alan Ivan Puac (BMI) 50% / Wesley Eugene Smith Jr. (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Trap
Keywords:
Alcohol, Bling, Boss, Car, Cash, City, Club, Cocky, Confident, Druggy, Drugs, Hustle, Hypnotic, Limo, Mean, Money, Mumble Rap, Party, Rich, Southern, Streets, Strip Club, Stripper Pole, Swagger, Thug, Tough, Trippy, VIP, Young
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
BPM:
81
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Important
CHORUS:
All my cars fast cuz they foreign
My diamonds speak another language they imported
You must be talking old news man you boring
Cuz if I do not know your name its not important
It's not important, it's not important
It's not important, it's not important
You must be talking old news man you boring
Cuz if I do not know your name it's not important
I been counting money for a week
Thought I was finished but it doubled in my sleep
My partner told me we was on I said preach
Beat the game on my own and neva cheated
Ey me and Lee be putting' on for the V
Send me the work I break it down we split the fee
Ya favorite rapper probably got his style from me
Ya favorite rapper probably got his style from me
These rappers so wack know that I ain't neva tryna go back to no racks
I won't cut these hittaz no slack fasho that wrist be blinding like a kodak post that
CHORUS
Wild'n Crazy
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, 1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, New Jack Swing, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Attitude, Boisterous, Boom Box, Cocky, Confident, Cool, Crazy, Dance, East Coast, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Good Times, Groovy, House Party, Old School, Party, Playful, Rowdy, Sassy, Sexual, Street, Swagger, Throwback, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard
BPM:
107
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Wild'n Crazy
It's about to get crazy, hold on baby
No glitz no glam, it's all about the grits and
Gravy, kicking mad flavor
Caught up in the madness nothing can save ya
Swinging from the chandelier
The place is jumping no standing here
Don't hold it back, just let it go
I'm clockin fly girls, I wanna let you know
I get nasty, not trashy
If you're curious, girl, just ask me
What's the difference, lemme tell you
I promise I won't bite, unless you want me to
Now you know I'm a freak, but a gentleman
When I want a taste of the cinnamon
So tell your friends, to bring they friends and they friends
gGet hype for the night here we go again
CHORUS:
It's time to get wild and crazy
There won't be no if's or maybe's
This goes out to the fly ladies
Who want to be my baby
Ready or not the spot is packed
When the party is hot, that's where the action's at
Skinny dippin, all your clothes are gone
There ain't nothing wrong, if all you got is a thong
If that's wrong, I don't wanna be right
If you got tight hips then you're just my type
Girls they be dancing on tables
With bamboo earrings bigger than bagels
Bouncing moving all around
East to west side, down to uptown
Get wild ain't no turning back
Word up, the party is wherever you at
Do You Like That
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, New Jack Swing, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Attitude, Boisterous, Boom Box, Cocky, Confident, Cool, Dance, East Coast, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Good Times, Groovy, House Party, Old School, Party, Playful, Rowdy, Sassy, Sexual, Street, Swagger, Throwback
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Keyboard
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
108
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Do You Like That
Lights, camera, action it's on
Party 'til the break of dawn, word is bond
Spot is getting hot, and the crowd is getting live
But my crew stay cool, while we let the beat ride
Bounce up and down, left to right
Grab a cutey with a booty and the hips are tight
Like dynamite, she got the boom and pow
I don't need to say nothing they like my style
Yeah baby, are you down with the program
Whine your body, but this ain't a slow jam
Gere's your chance, take it, don't fake it
Just shake it, like you're butt naked
I like the girls, that get freaky with it,
if she's a superfreak, you might see me with it
throwing down, light up the party
I never rock with anything less than a hottie
CHORUS:
Do you like that, tell me do you like that
Check the profile, watch'em go wild
If you didn't know, then you know now
It's the golden child, I got the flavor
I got the rhythm, that y'all are slave to
I got the paper, I got the moves
Always smooth, I can never lose
The lady's choice, the way I'm swinging it
You couldn't handle it, the way I'm bringin' it
Straight to the top, never gonna flop
Looking for sugar and spice, stir up the pot
I'm chilling with the hotties, mixing and mingling
I wanna see you pump it til your earrings start jinglin'
She got hips, that she whips real fast
She got a bumper that'll give you whiplash
I get busy, and I get that cash
We can get busy if you shake that
CHORUS
She got hips, that she whips real fast
She got a bumper that'll give you whiplash
I get busy, and I get that cash
We can get busy if you shake that shake that
She got hips, that she whips real fast
She got a bumper that'll give you whiplash
I get busy, and I get that cash
We can get busy if you shake that
Big Boy
Artist(s): Vega Heartbreak
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Orlando L. Rowe (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Attitude, Big, Bling, Bravado, Club, Cocky, Confident, Explicit Lyrics, Limo, Money, Party, Strip Club, Stripper, Swagger, VIP
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
73
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Big Boy
CHORUS:
I got the Patron in my cup
I don't give a f***
You a hater and that's all you gon be
Shawty got that ass lookin' right
You with me tonight
Order what you like
Its all on me
It's that big boy s***
Big boy s*** (3x)
Catch me in the club
On that big boy s***
50s 100s and dubs
On that big boy shit
Big boy s***
New coupe sick
Girl put that ass on this big boy d***
Big boy games make them niggas forfeit
Yeah I got a lot but I want a bit more s***
Big boy hustle we go big boy hard
Racks on racks on racks on my big boy card
That 599 that's that big boy card
F***** A-list bitches that's them big boy broads
Fly to Amsterdam to go to H&M
Spending euros on Versace
That's that big boy fit
Don't know who I am
Vega I'm the man
All across the world
On that big boy s***
CHORUS
S*** so sick
Cartier Panera that's that big boy wrist
No diamonds in my watch cause them bitches on my neck
Labels say they wanna sign me
Cut that big boy check
Making big boy beats
Drop a big boy verse
Killin' rappers put they coffin in a big boy hearse
Taking big boy risks
Take a 100 grand
Invest in my career
Make a million
That's a big boy flip
Leaving big boy tips
Strippers love to dance
I'm they biggest fan
Throw some grands
On them big girl tits
Don't know who I am
Vega Im the man
All across the world
On this big boy s***
CHORUS
Camera man camera man
Hope you got the money shot
I'mma throw this money up
Girl make yo ass drop
Pour Another Round
Artist(s): G-$tack
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 50% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Tony Vose Music (BMI) 50% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Club, Dance, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Bling, Club, Cocky, Crazy, Crunk, Dance Floor, Dirty South, Drinking, Drop, Freewheeling, Fun, Grind, Intense, Late Night, Models, Party, Rager, Raucous, Rowdy, Shots, Sleazy, Swagger, VIP, Vodka, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Synths
BPM:
98
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Pour Another Round
Drunk, drunk
Everybody doin' shots
Pour another round!
Go For Yours
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
B-boying, Boastful, Boisterous, Boom Box, Bravado, Break Dancing, Celebratory, Club, Confident, Dance Floor, Energy, Fun, Ghetto Blaster, Group, Party, Playful, Rowdy, Swagger
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar
BPM:
113
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Go For Yours
GO FOR YOURS
VERSE 1
I'm one of a kind when I open doors
I'ma go for mine, and you can go for yours
Keep your head up, it's ours to get
If it's easy, it ain't worth the sweat
If you ain't sweating you're holding the wall
We tear the roof off the mother so let it fall
Baby doll don't hold back, you got the key
Lemme see what you got, let's start the party
CHORUS
If you got what it takes, make no mistake
Go for yours, go for yours
If you know you ain't wack, don't hold back
Go for yours, go for yours
If you know you the man, when you step in the jam
Go for yours, go for yours
If you wanna be with all the fly ladies
Go for yours, go for yours
VERSE 2
Reach for the top with whatever you got
Keep on to the break of dawn and don't stop
The place is popping, we body rockin'
Even got the flat foot fellas hoppin'
Bump with the bass, boogie down to the beat
We break it on down, so get on your feet
Don't stop, we ain't finished yet
Get up and go get it there's no regrets
OUTRO
Boogie to the bump and the bump to bass
Turn it up loud when we rock the place
Boogie to the bump and the bump to bass
Turn it up loud when we rock the place
Side 2 Side
Artist(s): Spiderfingers
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Jared Meeker (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Lounge, Rap, Reggae, Ultra Lounge, World
Keywords:
Ambient Groove, Atmosphere, Beatnik, Bling, Bump, Celebrity, Chill, City, Classy, Club, Club, Cocktails, Cool, DJ, Dirty, Downtown, Drugs, Eclectic, Ethnic, Evening, Exotic, Ghetto, Groove, High, Joint, Laid Back, Nasty, Night, Party, Pot, Psychedelic, Relaxed, Sexy, Smooth, Sneaky, Spacey, Stoned, Street, Strip, Vibe Track, West Coast
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Organ, Synthesizer, Turntables
BPM:
93
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
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)
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
Follow BTM on