Tracks Similar To Rifle Shot
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
That's All We Know
Artist(s): D. Cope
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Desmond Copeland (ASCAP) 25% / James Desmond (ASCAP) 25% / Panauh Kalayeh (ASCAP) 25% / Rayvaughn Vernon (ASCAP) 25%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Trap
Keywords:
Blood, Chicago, City, Cocaine, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Danger, Dark, Dark Alley, Dealer, Death, Drill, Drive By, Druggy, Drugs, Fight, Gang, Gangster, Hood, Intimidating, Murder, Scary, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Piano, Synth Horns, Synths
BPM:
64
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
That's All We Know
I got that
Coca
I got that
Mota
I got that thang on me
Pull it out and make it bang homie
I got that on me
All this cash
All this change
All these watches
All these rangs
Street life wont never change
Growing up in my hood man
Better watch you head man
Better watch for the feds man
Better watch for the hood gangs
If you don't
You might die
Wrong place
Wrong time
Wrong color
Wrong hood
Stand down, Man down
Bounce back to the trap
Get the money count my stacks
In the waist I got my strap
Cooking up in the back
Got the bread in the back
Got the white in the back
Make it snow and whether
Red dot, getting cheddar
All my team know is getting money
All my team know is bussing guns
All my team know is robbing people
All my team know is making runs
CHORUS:
That's all we know (8x)
Yeah
Last week thought he caught me slippin'
Drive by me
He was tryin' shine
Didn't even really see me coming
Had to creep him
Got him from behind
Pull it out put it to his tempo
Told the man this is so simple
Gimme keys
Gimme watch
Gimme wallet or I'm gonna pop it
All my clips are Extendo
Foreign cars not a rental
All my people all about the cream
Cash rules over everything
Around me get the dollar bill
Wrap it up
Vaseline seal
Give it to my team
Team real
Waiting on the money
Money here
CHORUS
Stove
Artist(s): Saint Andrews
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Anthony Thompson (ASCAP) 33.34% / Joseph Michael Darby (BMI) 33.33% / Ty Frankel (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 66.66% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 33.34%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Drill, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Trap
Keywords:
Alley, Chicago, City, Cocaine, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Danger, Dark, Dealer, Death, Drill, Drinking, Drive By, Drug Deal, Drug Dealer, Druggy, Drugs, Explicit Lyrics, Fight, Gang, Gangster, Hood, Intimidating, Jail, Murder, Party, Scary, Smoke, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Trippy, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
67
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Stove
Feds found a dead body with no face on it
Man hunt, they gon put a whole case on em
They done made it hot, gotta hit the chase on em
Hit the stove, hit the road, hella cake on em
Hook:
I make it hot, well I just put it on the stove boy
I grab that whip and then I put it on the stove boy
You need a hit, well I just took it off the stove boy
I take that b**** and then I put her on the stove boy
I just stay up on that stove boy
I be whipping on that stove boy
I make it hot well I just put it on the stove boy
On the stove boy
I make it hot up on my own boy
You cracking slick and get a tone boy
You n****s talking about a zone boy
We (redacted) boys, you better know your home boy
You n****s better do your homework
You n****s better get your own work
I take your b**** and make that ho twerk
Hook:
I make it hot, well I just put it on the stove boy
I grab that whip and then I put it on the stove boy
You need a hit, well I just took it off the stove boy
I take that b**** and then I put her on the stove boy
I just stay up on that stove boy
I be whipping on that stove boy
I make it hot well I just put it on the stove boy
On the stove boy
Feds found a dead body with no face on it
Man hunt, they gon put a whole case on em
They done made it hot, gotta hit the chase on em
Hit the stove, hit the road, hella cake on em
Feds found a dead body with no face on it
Manhunt, they gon put a whole case on em
They done made it hot, gotta hit the chase on em
Hit the stove, hit the road, hella cake on em
I Don't Know
Artist(s): Saint Andrews
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Anthony Thompson (ASCAP) 33.34% / Joseph Michael Darby (BMI) 33.33% / Ty Frankel (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 66.66% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 33.34%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Drill, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Trap
Keywords:
Chicago, City, Cocaine, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Danger, Dark, Dark Alley, Dealer, Death, Drill, Drinking, Drive By, Druggy, Drugs, Explicit Lyrics, Fight, Gang, Gangster, Hood, Intimidating, Jail, Murder, Party, Scary, Smoke, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Trippy, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
68
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Don't Know
If I get booked, i don't know s***
Who was that b****, i don't know s***
who got murked, i don't know s***
N**** Ima smoke till I don't know s***
Why you talkin, you don't know s***
Hoes tryin go, Man you don't know s***
how a n**** get a four so quick
Don't ask me n**** I don't know s***
Verse 1:
Look up in my eyes but they're probably closed
It's a lot of s*** I ain't gotta know
I can probably change it but I probably won't
Don't ask me no questions n****, I don't know
n****s riding with me, well they probably vicious
We just out in traffic and we hitting switches
Don't ask me bout them, I ain't hit them b****es
We so different, cock it back and we gon hit ya
Quiet n**** hit the loud
Find a door and kick it down
Don't know what this s***'s about
All these rappers, kick em out
Take a b**** and d*** her down
And I just might lick her down
Hope I make my n****s proud
So much changed from then to now
Hook:
If I get booked, i don't know s***
Who was that b****, i don't know s***
who got murked, i don't know s***
N**** Ima smoke till I don't know s***
Why you talkin, you don't know s***
Hoes tryin go, Man you don't know s***
how a n**** get a four so quick
Don't ask me n**** I don't know s***
If I get booked, i don't know s***
Who was that b****, i don't know s***
who got murked, i don't know s***
N**** Ima smoke till I don't know s***
Why you talkin, you don't know s***
Hoes tryin go, Man you don't know s***
how a n**** get a four so quick
Don't ask me n**** I don't know s***
Verse 2:
I be over east but I whip so quick
I be over west trying to hit that b****
Got a lotta stress so the s*** stay lit
Rap don't work Ima hit that lick
Got no compassion, gotta survive
Got all the traction, got all the drive
I don't react to all of the lies
Take me off the map, guess you can try
Boy you know I'm out the way, I'm trying to crack another safe
Get some ratchets out my face and flick them ashes out the way
Looking for a compliment that I ain't passin out today
Know my actions is my name so don't ask me bout my name
Only way I'm staying broke is if a casket in the way
I be chillin But I guess I'm on that active s*** today
They out of character, I guess they on some actor s*** today
My mans moving slow, I guess he on that activis today
If I get booked, I don't know s***
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
Fast Life
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, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bedroom, Cash, Celebration, Chill, City, Club, Date, Explicit Lyrics, Fashion, Flirtatious, Going Out, Hot Tub, Late Night, Limo, Love, Material, Money, Party, Rich, Romantic, Sex, Shallow, Shopping, Slick, Smooth, Spoiled
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
BPM:
69
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Fast Life
She do, she do, she do all the things I hate but I love it
She do all type of bad for that bag yeah,
But I love it love it when she shake that a** yeah
Want a n**** just like me to spend that cash yea
Passenger in that V going fast yea
Micheal Jackson Billy Jean
She Just want the fast life
She just want that fast life
Tell all her friends and brag like
He just bought my bag like
He just spent some racks right
She just want the fast life...yeah (Repeat 2x)
Verse 1
What you want from me
Say you want time I give you time say you want money
You so confused you chasing likes I see you running
Live in the Dark Die for the lights you know it's coming, you know it's coming yea
And Girl I see you
Somebody side bitch on the sideline for the season
Dance with the devil in the red dress she so evil
The underworld she doing s*** that's barely legal, that's barely legal yeah
Pre Hook
Making n***** fall in love head over hills probably catch a body for her
They love take her home to mama, she just love shopping all she want is Tom Ford
Gucci Gucci, Louie, Louie Hermes and Chanel bunch other s*** that I can't even tell
If they get her everything she wanted I can never even blame her for it
Repeat Hook
Verse 2
Wait a second text the reverend tell em shawty she been having sex
Viewers discretion is advised since a adolescent
She want it all she been aggressive
She's been having session dropped out of school said f*** a lesson
Now she on a pole, picked up the money off the flo
Now she hit the road, she found a n**** with some doe
That's the day her life changed ain't been the same since, for that lifestyle shawty shameless
Repeat Pre Hook
Hook
Drinkin' & Smoking
Artist(s): Lex
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Alex Theodore Bradley (BMI) 33.33% / Anthony Thompson (ASCAP) 33.34% / Ty Frankel (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 66.66% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 33.34%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Drill, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Trap
Keywords:
Blood, Chicago, City, Cocaine, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Danger, Dark, Dark Alley, Dealer, Death, Drill, Drinking, Drive By, Druggy, Drugs, Explicit Lyrics, Fight, Gang, Gangster, Hood, Intimidating, Murder, Party, Scary, Smoke, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
BPM:
57
Key:
D♯m/E♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Drinkin' & Smoking
I've been drinkin & smokin
Plus I'm still rollin
Two double cups
A Couple sluts and they goin
Fully reloaded
Big balls and she know it
Hit her off with that motive
And now I'm drinking smoking
Verse:
I smoke, yeah I Drink
I'm supposed to stop but I can't
I'm with the Squad they quick to throw paws
My dogs throw they fist it look like Arsenio Hall
I'll put in for the dope, but I'm good with the Drank
Whatever get this party to start jumpin' like a Plank
If it ain't I hit the paint cuz all i know somehow someway is
Ima poke a Pocahontas from out where the Redskins play
But Ballin like I'm Emmit, Drunk I'm past my limit
Problems if there's any, Them I'm Rollin like I'm Timmy
Whole handle of Remy. Swear that's all that's in me
My life's like a movie, I act like I won a Emmy
Celebrating I Be Drinkin and Smokin
Hook:
I've been drinkin & smokin
Plus I'm still rollin
Two double cups
A Couple sluts and they goin
Fully reloaded
Big balls and she know it
Hit her off with that motive
And now I'm drinkin & smokin'
Willing To Die
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Willing To Die
WILLING TO DIE
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
I been dying to try see this look in my eye
First lesson in the street can't compete with me
Lookin' hard little gangsta making me look over my shoulder
Bumpin' a range rover with the bulletproof glass
Had to get that hook up some things in my past
Bound to catch up to me man I might not last
Makin suckas bleed lean out the window and blast
Don't try to sneak up man I think too fast
I hope they come undercover man I'll say self defense
Looking at my life I can't claim innocence
It came and it went much money been spent
Many wigs been bent back and twisted with the lethal
Times up game over ain't no sequel
Ain't no such thing as evil it's do or die
Gangsta hustler a piece of the pie
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Ever since I was a shorty on the corner drinking 40's
Clockin mathematics movin weight like an addict
Had my boys posted up stoop one and two
If some chickens walk by scoop two or one
Take out the back and then show em my gun
Ice around my neck make you blind from the sun
What kind a high you need? I'll let you try some son
So many enemies anyone could be one
Come and try if you wanna die
I'll make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside don't you see I'm dead right
See the one that make the lead fly down at midnight
Sneakin' up on suckas if you ain't got the cash
Say something son beat that ass with a flashlight
Run sucka run I'm the one with ammunition
Dumb sucka dumb you got the wrong intuition
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Come on and try
If you wanna die
Make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside
Don't you see I'm dead right
I'm the one that make the lead fly
Down at midnight
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
What You Lookin' At
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, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
94
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What You Lookin' At
What u Lookin at?
Chorus
What you lookin' at - boy you better watch yourself - leave with your health
What you lookin' at - you ain't never seen a G. before, now that's for sure
Yeah what you lookin' at - time's up, better turn and run - feel my gun
Yeah what you lookin' at - what you lookin' at
1st Verse
What you lookin' at fool
I'm hot tempered and I'm cruel
Have you duckin' mini missles as they spittin' out my tool
I'm not the one you wanna mess wit'
You can get lit
I'm the one they come to
When they want gangstas hit
A cold-hearted savage
Doing much damage
If you ever try to cross
I'll fry you up like cabbage
Boy I'm way too sick
Roll wit' a grimy clique
I decide I'm coming for you
I won't quit...
..Until
You hide or peel
Or you eat some steel
You playin' but I'm an old school G for real
Roll wit' a.44
Soon as I hit tha do'
They all get ta scatterin'
They already know
That I'm a killa man and I don't play
If you like ya livin' homey
Stay out my way
Savor revenge and I ain't got no love
Got a collection on my wall of G's mauled and stuffed
I carry major stacks
Won't hesitate to clap
Blow out ya back, Dog
Who you lookin' at?
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Dog, you must be crazy
Thinkin' you gon' play me
Cause I'm kinda chubby and my eyes a little lazy
I've dealt with cats like you before
Twist ya wig back and jack ya 'Lac
Outside the corner store
In broad daylight
Somehow no witness though
You shoulda listened to 'em
Boy they told you so
I should wear a black cape
Look at all this yellow tape
I got tha munchies off these herbs and you look like yellow cake
I told you boy don't mess wit' me
Specialize in kidnappin', grand larceny
Cross me then ya done
I always carry my gun
You hate the street life
Man I do it for fun
You see me boy it's best you duck
I'm the one to bring tha blues
Homey that's wassup!
A 10 megaton bomb waiting to erupt
A cold-hearted demon
I don't give a (What!!!)
Like to wear black
Love to blast and scrap
I'll put you on ya back
Can you handle that?
Repeat Chorus
What you lookin' at
My nickel-plated nine?
Boy you don't want that
You gonna mess around and get ya scull cracked
E'ry time you in my zone
I'm smellin' kit-kat
Playa get back
I'm movin' major keys
This ain't no rivalry
You mean nothing to me dog
You'll be a casualty
Of a misguided ego and a thirst for fame
There was 19 before you and yaw all was lameAll you heard was a crack
Then all you saw was black
You shoulda thought of who you was mean muggin' at
You never met a G as raw as me
Take bums like you out constantly
Repeat Chorus
Feel The Pain
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, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Pain, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
94
Key:
G♯m/A♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Feel The Pain
Feel the Pain
Chorus
Yeah You're gonna feel the pain
You'll never be the same, Yeah
You're gonna feel the pain
You won't believe it
When you feel it
You're gonna feel the pain
You ain't never gonna be the same,
You're gonna feel the pain, Yeah
You won't believe it
When you feel it
1st Verse
You won't believe the pain (pause)
Full-time felon yall know my name, I slang
Quick to bang
I control a gang (pause)
Of rowdy-thug-gangstas
All united, we slang
More greens and coke than a little bit
Step outta line
We'll smoke you
Give the cops the fits
Bold, intemperate bro, so I get
Mo money than 'em all
Squeeze for the hell of it
Raised to hold heat
Thrived on seedy blocks
The game is all in me mayne
I can't stop
If I get the drop on you
I'm blastin', few
Survive a confrontation
Stop the beggin- your threw!
(long pause)
Of Newports in da pen
Make you fade to black
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
You don't want to cross me
I'll make you feel da pain
Feel da pain
Talkin' a lot being flossy
I'll put 2 in ya brain
You don't want to test me
You don't want to cross me
Don't want to feel my reign
I'm insane
I'm insane
Love to bang
It's all over if I want you mayne
Repeat Chorus
In the middle of the street ya shake
Boy I'll rock your world
Like a violent quake
Stopped my cross-town rivals movin major weight
I'm servin all you suckas
I ain't givin no breaks
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
I'll go blow for blow
Rivalries fo' sho; (pause)
Ended violently over drugs and dough
(pause)
You really didn't want confrontation yo
Cause I'm a killa for real
You've been shot befo'
(long pause)
I guess the message didn't sink in, and I guard my rep
I'm looking for homey- watch ya step
I was husslin' while you slept
Hit you five times, heard your mother wept
My side gangstas are the craziest
Homicides when des guns are blazin its (pause)
Real in da field
A'ready made a mil (pause)
Blew a mil, I'm still rakin' major scrill
(For Real?) (pause)
I'm really not playin' dude
Your eyes is shifty
If ya break my rules
You'll disappear quicker than a carton pack
Drop From Below
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Blake Colie (ASCAP) 25% / Henry Benjamin (ASCAP) 25% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 25% / Steven Kyle Mack (ASCAP) 25%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 25% / Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 75%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Key:
G♯m/A♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Drop From Below
DROP FROM BELOW
Verse 1
Yeah lets make that sound
Yes yes don't test don't test im alive 45s drop spin and the its hip hop
Yes yes don't stress don't stress keep it movin yall got no time to stop
Yes yes so fresh so fresh like a fine girls breath
Like that feelin in your chest yes yes don't test don't test
I'll be waitin in the bushes with the bullet proof vest (sike)
I don't shoot don't loot don't perpetrate
Keep it straight gully on the low like Watergate
Yes yes mess mess in the head
Never would I tell you id be better off dead
Im alive 45 drops spin and then its hip hop
Yes yes spit verse a make ya knees knock
No stress puff trees when the wind blows
No trees if you don't got ends though
Keep my head straight got no time to debate
North south east west rep state to state
Interconnected methods through the nebulous and
Clouds I drift check check check
Chorus
Drop from below freak walk city streets
Drop from below freak walk city streets
Verse 2
Yes yes bless bless we the best if I don't tell anyone
I wonder who will guess nonetheless fa me test
When we light up the jets I am what I am alchemical
Do what I do identical to my soul plentiful
Beats eats when fed new sun redemption
Seems that the air that I breathe filled with vitamins
Invite 'em in im tight im at the peak of my precipice
Twist white black backwoods in the back of whatever hood
Its all good welcome to my neighborhood
Drop state shift minus images diminishes swift perception
No question
Yeah lets make that sound yeah yeah lets MAKE THAT SOUND
CHORUS
Bump Bump Bump
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bump Bump Bump
BUMP BUMP BUMP
CHORUS
Come on come on gimme a bump bump bump
Everybody in the club with the bump bump bump
We gonna get high yeah we gonna get it done
Come on come on and just bump bump bump
VERSE 1
You need a grown man like me white tee icey
Just to get the ladies play like a wifie
Only for one night see nike's pricey
I like them moves spicy don't act sheisty
Have you dropped spinnin in the middle of the room
Like whoops wow whered he go hear me on the radio
Top of this hip hop flip and we don't stop
See yall players playing like you got game
Maybe I look the same when I try to come up
But now you see my whole crew runnin big black trucks
Range rovers pimp like the hove would
Now you understand my hustling ways
I made good so keep it up pimp keep shakin little shorty
Keep it old school on the stoop drinkin 40's
Always keep my eyes peeled back drop authorities
Keep numbers flipped swiss bank its priority
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Walk with a little limp just talk a little bit
When beats bouncing in the club its legitimate
How you gonna look so smooth those moves so rude
Lets prove we could do this all night
One hand on my drink others feelin allright
Its so locked down its like critical
Get you back to the pad get physical
Smoke greens you aint seen aint typical
Keep it bumpin in the club like a ritual
Swing it back swing it close get them visuals
How you gonna sneak up freak up tilt cup back
Till you finish that glass of champagne high class thing
No need to be ashamed
You got what god gave ya make that brain insane
But anyway seen yesterday on the runway
Don't believe what they say no gun play
CHORUS
I aint come up in the club lookin for the right love
Gonna keep it tight body fittin like a glove
Sittin in VIP lookin from above
When you see me in the cut bump bump bump bump bump
CHORUS
Being A Playa
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:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Being A Playa
Being A Playa
Intro
I'm the playa of all playas
Wherever I am
Da ladies know what's up
U haters do to
So I'm a keep doin what I do
And Doing who I do
It's P Unit G
Chorus
BEIN' A PLAYA IS A WAY OF LIFE
UP ON TOP (&) OUT ALL NIGHT
SHAWTY WANT A TASTE OF A REAL G
COME ON DOWN & BE A PLAYA WIT ME
1st Verse
I got pros in every area code
WIDE LOAD
P.I.M.P.
I keep 'em out of they clothes
Love or Hate it
I'm Don Dada
Pick her up... "look ma.. you talk a lotta"
Slow Down, I know I speak greasy
U know how us G's be
Whether I'm in da Benz or da coupe
Girl I stay freezy
On top of my game
You know the name
It's P unit all day mayne
I'm rippin through frames
All flavors
Chocolate, Almonds, Vanilla Swirls
When I'm in da club I'm chased by all the girls
Whether they wear straight hair or they rockin' curls
Wit' dis Magic Stick
The ladies love to lick like Shirl
Well I met her just last week outside ya boutique
Pulled up there was a group of dames she took a peek
I saw it in her eyes
And wit' them caramel thighs
I had to give it to her
Now don't act surprised
(I'm a playa baby you know me!!)
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Let me tell all of you wanna be playas a little somethin'
If you really like them big fat rumps for pumpin'
It's a breeze and you can keep ya cheese
Playa peep the steez!!
I stay clean, I'm lean, carry stacks of green
And I keep a deeper bench than any NBA team
Some like tha bouncin'
Others like it on they back
They fiend for the monster
I like to call him Shaq
Takes up a lot of space
Unstoppable in the lane
If the game gets tight
He can cause you pain
Big Popi, the main ingredient
Lubricates the fold
Even though my rims is gold
And my wrists stay cold
They gets no dough
But they like to step in the Rolls
Take of they G strings
Then I curl up they toes
Some had visions of a pay day
Others just like to lay me
They caught up in the fortune and fame
So I'm a play 'em mayne!!
Outro
Being a playa is a way of life
I can't help it
They just keep coming at me
Constantly
They know who we be
I give 'em a little taste of the wild side
I'll pop the champagne wit 'em
Show 'em a little bit of the good life
But really they just like to keep this thang up in 'em
And I oblige
You know... I'm Here to Serve (w/ laughter)
It's a hard life
But somebody's gotta do it
P.P.P.P. P UNIT!!!!
A Date With Angels
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:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
A Date With Angels
A DATE WITH ANGELS
Time is running out, I feel it slippin' away
time is running out, I see it in my dreams every night
I can't get away from it
Chorus
It's getting' hard to stay alive
The streets are full of blood tonight
An' everything is down to fate
You can't go back 'cos it's too late
Now brother's gone and mama's cryin'
Seems like everybody's dyin'
I know they're comin' for me
But I'm not ready – for a date with angels
A date with angels – a date with angels
Verse 1
I see death around the corner
I can't delete it
The Vision repeats over and over
There's no reprieve.. Click!!
Another round in the chamber...OOOOh!
Everytime I make a move
I feel my burning fuse
See the homey's over there creepin'?
The last two nights they been trying to catch a brother sleepin'
Didn't see 'em?
Na, I ain't tripping
That's why no matter where I go I keep the clip in
With the safety off
They tryin' to pick me off
They say I'm off
But I ain't never been soft
The game 'a make you go crazy
The hood's full 'a wannabe gangstas
Or they tryna be Jay Z
I only did it cause it pays me
Had an exit plan
But now I can't see SQUEEZE!
Cause I'm tired of runnin'
Dog I know it's comin'
I see death around the corner!
Repeat Chorus
She was 13 and I was 22
Used to holla at her when she went to school
She was enthralled with the streetlife
As a G I kept my knot right
Kept the product for them pipes
Told youngin' "Get ya mind right shortie. Betta stay out these streets!"
"Cause messin' wit' 'da street life
It'll get you caught up
Hunger combined with jealousy It'll get you buck Bucked!
Like you never was
You a Pup!
There's Killas out here and they don't give a What!!
She didn't listen man she did her thang
Two weeks ago they found her and her Thuggy slain!
Repeat Chorus
Dedicate
Artist(s): CaiNo
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Writer(s):
Marcus Cohen (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Ambition, Aspiration, Back Story, Changes, City, Confidence, Death, Dedicated, Destiny, Dreams, Fame, Family, Fate, Father, Heart Felt, Heartwarming, Introspective, Life, Mother, Motivation, Moving, New Life, Powerful, Reflective, Rising, Risk, Sentimental, Story, Striving, Struggle, Taking A Chance, Toughtful, Uplifting, Victory
Instruments:
808 Kick, Bass, Drums, Strings, Synths
Year Recorded:
2018
BPM:
152
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Dedicate
Chorus:
You don't have to be afraid I see the signs
I know that everything's gonna be all right and I take a breath and sigh knowing that you're still here by my side
can't wait to see you on the other side
don't ever take for granted those That have been with you from the gate
don't tempt fate you never know when it may be too late
for everybody with your fam join hands and relate
this is a song for yall that I have chosen to dedicate
V1:
Mommy I love you
and that means I place no one above you
just a stare from you's enough to bring me up and wanna run to you
I wouldn't be an image of the man I am today without your lessons my pages would be blank with nothing to say
remember days with us dancing my feet on top of yours
me giving you attitudes over the simplest chores
and we still be battling heads on a regular daily basis
but Mom i wouldn't be nothing if not for your love and patience
and though we made mistakes we were there to comfort each other
you gave me a little brother I've never thanked you enough
for everything that you've done for the both of us mom you're like a goddess
together so many lives yet this time was the hardest
souls intertwined and that's why we'll never be parted
it seems that we've approached the end we found we've only started God is smiling
as sure as I know that I've got to rhyme
I'm just as sure that my mom is going to speak to the world and shine
Chorus:
V2:
Daddy we miss you
I wish that death was never an issue
and I know that given the chance your daughter would love to kiss you
I know she'd give her life just for a moment to see
if you're proud of the woman that she's become and all that she'll be
I vow to you on my knees that I'll love and protect your seed
with every fiber of my being bask in the glory of the Queen
forced to mature before the age of 18 vision been tainted by the hatred she seen since she been conceived
raised alongside murderers drug dealers and hoes
never knowing you're alone people breaking into your home
stealing your Disney videos to sell in the streets what's left for a little girl but keep on praying for peace
I'm trying Edwin but sometimes this shit is unsettling
I be feeling like I wanna be with you chillin in heaven
but I know I'm not done emptying lessons onto these cats
I know that's you behind me with your breath on my back I feel it
Chorus:
Open It For Me
Artist(s): Vega Heartbreak
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Writer(s):
Orlando L. Rowe (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Auto Tune, Bedroom, Chill, City, Confession, Date, Dedication, Flirtatious, Genuine, Late Night, Love, Opening, Romantic, Slick, Smooth, Sweet
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Harpsichord, Synths
BPM:
82
Key:
F
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Open It For Me
You got a personal vendetta
Against love cause you gave your all
you feel like you lost the war
I am the one to make it better
You tell me to do some more
But when I'm knocking you close your door
Pre Hook
You tell me it's hard to press restart
Because you got a band aid from the damage on your heart
(Repeat Pre Hook)
Hook
Open it for Me....Repeat 4x
Can you oh oh open your heart
Verse 2
We can take it as slow as you want
Girls I'm her for you no matter how long
Let the past be the past and be will to move on
Try again to put your heart on the line
Give me yours and baby I'll give you mines as my sacrifice, I'll guard it with my life
Pre Hook
Hook
Crazy Place
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:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Back Story, Background, Chill, City, Conscious, Dark, Determined, Diligence, Emotional, Hard Times, Inner Conflict, Laid Back, Life, Mellow, Moody, New York City, Reflective, Restless, Rough, Soulful, Sports, Story, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Warm, Weed, Worried
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano, Strings
BPM:
87
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Crazy Place
Take a breather, float on ether, kick my feet up
Running on E, try to break free, but I freeze up
Apathy stabbing me in the back, attracting opposites
I follow through, but too many fall through on they promises
Astonishing, no incompetence I'm feeling fine
Why's this the final aftermath every single time?
Vanishing, all I wanted was someone to mold me
Lacked the proper guidance, all they ever did was scold me
Never showed me fluorescence or the ropes
On the shore coasting through life so I learned to cope
No boxes, dig in the crates, you can't contain me
Artistic with the vice, you can't frame me
My mind in a crazy place, crazy place
Wanna run the race, run the race
And finish real strong, real strong
Cause I know my fate, yeah I know my fate
You can never ever frame me or box me in
Packaging, know where I'm headed, mindful where I been
No mountains, the valleys have been my best friend
Not afraid of success, my fear's to transcend
Everything I've ever known, yeah my situation
Comfortable but I despise, oh what a temptation
Rise to highest heights, ozone with flyest kites
Not a homeland citizen but I know my rights
Pre-marriage date, acquainted with the pen, know my writes
A fixed visionary, yeah I set my sights
No boxes, dig in the crates, you can't contain me
Artistic with the vice, you can't frame me
Night Out
Artist(s): Vega Heartbreak
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Writer(s):
Orlando L. Rowe (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions
Keywords:
Bedroom, Celebration, Chill, City, Date, Explicit Lyrics, Flirtatious, Going Out, Hot Tub, Late Night, Limo, Love, Romantic, Slick, Smooth
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synths
BPM:
72
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Night Out
CHORUS:
Just a night out on the city
A couple people with me
Took some shots back at the crib
So I'm already tipsy
Just broke up with my misses say she already miss me
I know you gon hate so you can already diss me
Yeah we got em
Yeah you know we got em
Couple bottles couple girls
Listen we don't want no problems tonight
Oh really really oh really
I'm just such a fresh prince
No philly ole willy
You don't know me but you know me
You know just how I do
Ain't bout that bread ain't bout cheese ain't bout that dough
A nigga gotta vamonos
I got my own
Hatin' a** niggas wanna trip
Got they feet out like sandals
Never worried about it
Scared I doubt it
Hottest in the streets
They word of mouth it
Im everywhere you're never there
Always wanted the truth I never dared
These niggas sick but I ain't never cared
To the doctors to the lawyers
To the strippers to the hustlers
Gotta new name for my haters
Dave cause y'all some busters
Yeah we on it
Yeah you know we on it
We been renting for a minute
But its time for us to own it
So its now or never
Yell it one two three
I just want this s*** forever
Slappin 5s when i'm stepping out the 6
Every since I touched the sky niggas all up in my mix
Broke gold digging women hollin trying to get a fix
Undiscovered with they cut without a nic make me sick so I sip
It helps me in the strangest way Rosay Rosay just take the pain away
Taking pictures with every fan I can gain today
Cause in a blink of an eye it can fade away
I'm Swaggin'
Artist(s): Savvy
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Writer(s):
Gabriel J Bernard (BMI) 50% / Steven B. Johnson (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Pop, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions
Keywords:
Afraid, Alone, Anticipation, Anxious, Club, Concern, Cop Show, Dance, Danger, Death, Dramatic, Drone, Drugs, Emotional, Ending, Gang, Introspective, Loss, Melancholy, Missing, Moody, Ominous, Reflective, Sadness, Scared, Scary, Sex, Sneaky, Street, Suspense, Tension, Tough, Trouble, Uncertainty, Unknown, Unsure, Violence, Waiting, Worried, Worry
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Stings, Synthesizer
BPM:
78
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Bang Bang
Artist(s): EXC
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Skylar Mones (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
G♯m/A♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
This Is War
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:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
78
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
This Is War
This Is War
Chorus
This is war - Better watch your back, sucker
It's the end of the world as you know it
This is war - It's gonna be a bad mutha
It's Armageddon, boy, we gonna show ya
This is war - This is war
Intro Break
This is War!!... You should'a never let it come to this!!
1st Verse
You'll never catch me sleepin'
A sawed-off when I'm creepin'
Heartbreakin' to ya mama when it sink in
Because 'a all ya barkin'
And the major drama you started
Her favorite baby boy is soon her dearly departed
You bustas know we run these streets
In da pen a 1000 men wit evil grins we even drop da police
Now you suckas messed around and took food off my kids table
So you've made me resurrect an old fable
I'm tha Big BAD WOLF!!
And I have to bring your house down
I command a crew of killas
We don't play around
We pack mo' gats and tear drop tats
Serve and collectin' stacks
Exterminatin you rats
Don't Trip..... We keep an arsenal for our foes
......Spittin' mini missles through car doors in droves
Couldn't a made a worse mistake when you messed with me
It's all good for ya hood it's a CATASTROPHE!!!
Repeat Chorus
2nd Intro Break
You could a never imagined The destruction and chaos I'm a bring!!!
2nd Verse
You never contemplated what you were in for
Sent Juli, Pac, and BETA
Blew up ya corner store
Molotoved ya favorite restaurant and peppered ya car
Snatched ya baby's mama
Sent her earlobe back in a jar
I had to get ya cousins and ya brotha up in da joint
My soldiers sharpened their shanks dat night
And gave 'em the point
Cut 'em up durin' a riot
Wit nowhere to go
Homey you know the game
You reap what you sow
Now ya body guards is missin'
Ya major shipments missin'
All ya streets is burnin'
PayBACK and now you're wishin'
Dat you'd just played ya position
Lurkin' behind white teeth
Wanted to take my seat
But can you take this heat?
Now all ya people's duckin'
When dese AK rounds is lickin'
Ya top soldier's chicken
and ya corner boys is strippin'
We bring hard knocks
We gon' bend you blocks
'Til u meet my 2 gats cocked
Boy this war won't stop!!!
Repeat Chorus
Statement
Your world as you know it has come to an end
It don't matter how long it takes
I'm gonna destroy everything you care about
Everything you've built
Everything thing you thought you owned... IS MINE!!
There's nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide!!
This Is A Raid
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, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Old School, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Raid, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
This Is A Raid
This is a Raid
Chorus
This is a raid - git your hands up
Just stay in your place an' keep your mouth shut
This is a raid - git your hands up
Better stay in your place an' keep your mouth shut
Everybody freeze - everybody freeze
1st Verse
While you was rollin' flashy out wit' ya crew
While yaw was sellin' bricks I was watchin' you
You made a name
But you know the game
You sellin' in my hood
I gotta get ya mayne!!
Look, I'm a G for real
I own cops, crack shops, plenty of steel
I can't let you ride up in my hood
And sell major rocks like its all good (pause)
I've been settin' this trap for months
Make it difficult we'll have to clap
For once,
Do what's in ya best interests dude
If ya make a wrong move homeboy ya throughRepeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Young G you know how these streets be
Homicides, back knives, arm robberies
Take it like a man
Son you chose this life
I did it cause I can
You was livin' trife
You think cause you was out here mini-ballin'
Than you could avoid the wrath of me
Boy quit ya stallin'
Give me all dem bricks
Give me all ya chips
We takin' all ya wips
And we'll be back if you get loose lips
Hurry up, oh ya boy's bein' lazy
He had to try me now his eyes is all glazed see
I love my pump
I'm quick to dump
Better keeps ya hands up
We some riders chump!!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
Put ya hands up
We grindin'
No whinin'
We ridin'
Ya getting' stuck up
Stop cryin'
Or ya dyin'
No lyin'
Repeat Vamp 2x
Repeat Chorus
Public Gangsta #1
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, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drug Deal, Drug Dealer, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
84
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Public Gangsta #1
Public Gangsta 1
Chorus
It's all over the news - wanted dead or alive
But they forgot only the strong survive
My reign of terror has just begun
I'm Public Gangsta number one
They can't catch me - they'll always fail
I'll never spend the rest of my life in jail
My reign of terror has just begun
I'm Public Gangsta number one!
1st Verse
I'm a drug sellin larcenists
End up on my list I promise you I'll twist
Bullet holes burnin'
The police squad squirmin'
They look at me as vermin
Keep they stomachs churnin
Homey, I'm goin for mine
All my ladies work the corner
Man I'm on the grind
Cause untimely demises
I'm deeply despised
They wanna see my end
I see the look in dey eyes
It's a war out here and I control an army
Of predicate felons
It's so alarming
Sellin ki's and trees
I do what I please
It takes a certified G to bring a city to its knees
I don't care
You don't like boy then say somethin'
SAY SOMETHIN!
DO SOMETHIN!
I ain't chest thumpin'
I fill body bags fo real
My.9's my only friend
Man I love my steel
Be careful what you say
Just stay out my way
Have you duckin and divin' as my AK sprays
Run-up
If I'm lookin for you son
You betta carry ya gun
I'm Public Gangsta #1
Vamp
They'll never
They'll never
They'll never take me
I'm a keep on slangin these rocks mayne!
They'll never
They'll never
They'll never catch me
I'm a keep terrorizin' these streets mayne!
If they ever
They ever
They ever catch me
I'm a shoot anything that moves mayne!
I don't care what they say
They'll never take me back
They'll never see me fry
I ain't afraid to die!!
I run these streets
At night I creep
The boss of the bosses
Dog I never sleep
No words to say
No compromise – I'll spray
Get caught up in my biz
You've seen ya last day
You betta pray!
Run-Up
I do it for fun
I always carry my gun
I'm Public Gangsta #1
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
They'll never take me back alive
I got 2 strikes
Spent half my life deprived
Man I'm cheefin' in my 'Lac
Slangin lb's of crack
Addin' bills to my stack
Houses full of sacks
Neighborhood stores have to pay me fo sho
The baby G's don't test me
They already know
I catch a 3rd strike I'm done
So I'm no the one
Creep up on ya slow and collapse ya lung
When the pump gets ta pumpin' everybody gets ta jumpin'
2 a.m. rollin' and my beats is bumpin'
Run-up
I'll never run
I'm a real G
I love the street life
Boy ya feel me!
'til my last breath
I'll be squeezin' my gun
I'm Public Gangsta #1
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
King of Clubs
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Barrio, Chill, City, Dance, Drugs, Energetic, Fun, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
105
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
King of Clubs
KING OF CLUBS
CHORUS
Diamonds on the wrist girl pop your Kris
I'm the king of the club I'm the one you love
(repeat)
VERSE 1
Rap superstar at the bar
I'm lookin for the chick with the ripped six
I'm slick see me comin' with a pocketful of benjamins
Gentlemen step aside no red rope no pride
I ride the wave no fame name don't claim game
I've kept the rep in step keep hits comin'
In ya chest 9 to 5 we getting love in the club
Sun come up and we smoke a dub i'm
A lover international London to L.A.
Freaks on the runway properly drop position
I'm on the down low on Sunday I only do it one way
My way the highway I roll so slow
In the black 6oo I keep my windows tinted
I keep the engine runnin'
When the girl comes runnin'
CHORUS
VERSE 2
In Puerto Rico met this fine ass freak
I was sittin' in the club we roll 25 deep
I didn't have to dance man I didn't have to speak
Champagne flows any day of the week
I gave a little wink and her knees got weak
I told her I'm from Tennessee sipped on the Hennessy
She said she remembered me seen me on the video
Said I ain't a groupie I just like the way you move me
I think I seen her in a triple x movie
Hold up girl don't be messin' with the cooffies
Must a mistook me for the flavor of the week
We jumped inside the jeep
And the ride started rockin' I ain't knockin' occupations
I'm a freak in any nation
She got satiated and we rolled back in
I make all my money from my mind and my pen
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Freak roll lose control shake bounce like an animal
Silver platinum ice and gold ride on 20's or don't ride at all
Shake that thing keep it natural everybody needs some action y'all
We could keep it goin' till the break of dawn e roll like x go on and on
You've got the key to my hotel I love when they scream and yell
When you're done don't have to tell keep everything on the d and l
CHORUS
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