Tracks Similar To Free
This Is My Block
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:
1970s, Entertainment News, Funk, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Soul
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angry, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Funky, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Porn, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sex Flick, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
This Is My Block
THIS IS MY BLOCK
Chorus
This is my block – this is my block
The rock ain't gon' stop
This place is hot y'all – Ho ------
Verse 1
Posted up chokin'
On some Indo green
Stacked up in the back
Too many Stacks
I'm mean
These streets is the King's streets
It seems
Everyone or two years I have to make 'em lean
Hit 'em with tha machines
If you run the block
Heavy Handed Means!
Greasy
Enough cake to make your wake come quicker than a sun beam
Run up on you with the Fo' leave ya leaking
Pulling capers and I'm squeezing
It's Pleasing!
Yeah you nippy but I'm FREEZING
Fully automatic cracks
Now yo' whole family's weeping
Stop ya madness young dudes
I'm a veteran killa
Servin' 22 blocks
On every corner I'm the major dealer
Only 19 when I wrapped a Milla
You taking over the flow? Stop it will ya!
Ya pocket's thin? Boy I feel ya
But is it worth eating steel bullet dinners?
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
We get it poppin'
What you talkin' bout dude?
You up in da club..
Chump, I own the club
You see how all they' eyes is glued
On my section roped off it's a thug reunion
We tucked with our tools.. Send
Them Bunnies over it's time for pattin' pannies
More throats in action in the back than the Grammys
Everybody on the floor throwin' 'bows and two-steppin'
I'm not a DJ but I make lean back when I'm pepperin'
No stressing
Mo weapons
Than the American
Airforce and you the Taliban
I'm the worst
I'm the HEAT man
I keep grams
Kilo'd up
Grands in rubber bands
Understand Fam?
Cold-hearted G and I don't give a damn
Yeah they saw what happened
But they won't take the stand
Everybody give respect
Cousin, I'm the man!
Taxin', Clappin', It's crackin'
That's why I'm rappin'
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
Watch yo' back!
No matter what you do
Dog I'm watching you
You betta' watch yo' back!
I got eyes on every corner, plenty guns to shoot
Homey don't get smacked!
I'll treat you like my hoes if you disrespect
Make me grab the Tech
Or maybe grab ya neck!
Homey watch yo' back
You'll pay a heavy debt
Watch yo' back!
No matter what you do
Dog I'm watching you
You betta' watch yo' back!
I got eyes on every corner, plenty guns to shoot
Homey don't get smacked!
I'll treat you like my hoes if you disrespect
Make me grab the Tech
Or maybe grab ya neck!
Them slugs is hot
Homey, This is My Block!!
Good Times
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Barrio, Celebration, Celebratory, City, Commercial, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Ghetto, Hopeful, Joyful, Joyous, Night Club, Party, Positive, Promo, Radio, Swagga, Swagger, Upbeat, Uplifting
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Horns, Piano, Scratches, Strings
BPM:
95
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Good Times
GOOD TIMES
CHORUS
These are the good times
Forever in the hood times
We gonna make it we can make it
These are the ggod times
Love is the best crime
We gonna make it
Verse 1
5 bucks get a forty and a dutch
not thinking about much see my shorty get a touch
sweet as can be and a big you know what
keep my head up I never stop swingin
never stop hopin always keep copin
keep my body movin and my mind in motion
slick in production big truck system
mama always said son stick with the wisdom
I came to get them stick them fit them
I aint a victim and you never see me slippin
Never see me dippin even in middle of friction
Got them all wishin they was in my position
Smooth with the diction pay to listen
I get paid every single day
Gotta be good in the hood baby
Keep it comin baby one more time
We gotta hit them now with one more rhyme
CHORUS
VERSE 2
I gotta say make me feel that way
Like sippin champagne on the fifth of may
Like a pocket full of benjamins I maintain
Make it fall like rain act mad insane
Runnin through the streets yellin my own name
Love the way you move love the way you do
Anything can happen when you walk like that
King im relaxed to the infinite
Rock mic's that's my instrument
With two turntables make this thing get bent
Wicked with the flow act you don't know
Rockin it real fats then I make it slow
Flip the hood we can all get down
All come together white black or brown
In the hood whats good it's the natural sound
Check me out when ya on the block
CHORUS
Never Goin' Back
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bar, Barrio, City, Cop Show, Dance, Energetic, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Never Goin' Back
NEVER GOIN' BACK
VERSE 1
I was frozen in an explosion meant to be chosen
As the one takin over from the power of the sun
Destiny's finally come and I need will to be done
What was written what will come
The past is blasted like some heat from a tek-9 on the street
Knowledge is a weapon keep it comin move your feet
We been defeated since the history we must remain a mystery
CHORUS
Pride and wrath and lust and greed
We never goin back till we find what we need
VERSE 2
Like mystics this delivery is accurate
Packin raps into the immaculate
Conception was inception to increase imperialism
Pyramids of wisdom will spring you from mental prison
Unlatch and then detach and make a match and strike back again
I wish I was an Indian tell them give me my land again
How many understandin its demanding that holds us back
CHORUS
BRIDGE
I know I came to reach high up into the trees
And I perceive all I need is inside of me
All around me sound the army hear them comin
Beatin' drums and teaching young ones to be champions
And never bums and always strong we will last long
And like this song defeat the Babylon and keep on travellin'
VERSE 3
I been unravellin' and stab 'em from afar like a javelin
Whats happenin the aftermath is unleashed
Before the past can be repeated and stop killin
Penicillin stop the illin we need scientific principles
To make sure were invincible the decimals
Diminish before the sentence was finished
I need no outer limits no restrictions
Till im finished I diminish
CHORUS
Going Up Going Down
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:
Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Party, Prison, Radio, Sexy, South Central, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Twerk, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
132
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Going Up Going Down
GOIN' UP GOIN' DOWN
Chorus
Goin' up – goin' down
Booty movin' all around
Git it lef, git it right
Grab a little piece 'n' hold it tite
Goin' up – goin' down
Booty movin' all around
Flash a fitty – watch her go
She's a nasty little HO.....
She goin' up -- she goin' down
She goin' up -- she goin' down
Verse 1
I know where I'd like to sit ya
Baddest B in da club and I gotta get wit ya
In da middle of the dance flo' prancin'
All da goons at the bar knockin' Hen shots glancin'
Let me tell you what I wanna do
Grab ya hips from the back- Booty Bouncin' Boo
Up and Down, Left to Right
I can see you wanna pop that thang tonight!
Drop it low and LOWER
Move it faster SLOWER
Baby freak dat beat petite, so sweet; don't mess wit me
I'll blow your back to the front- I'm out!
I'm back! Jigglin' 'til you shout
You got me reelin'
I'm feeling
Have you without a doubt...
Chorus
Verse 2
Gimme' sometin' I can work wit' shorty
"Snap your G-string?"..Ooh my Lordy!
Ya twistin', windin', 'n shakin'
Dem cheeks vibratin' then brakin'
I can see you wanna set dat suga free
No need'n fakin'
We can take a weekend make a motion picture
While we're makin'
Dem ooh! Aah! Sounds
You on my stripper pole sliddin' down
Onion so soft 'n supple
Frustrated?
Give me a couple
Suck sessions
Baby I'm guessin'
Got da buns? I'm a dog
Baby no stressin'
Come on we'll work it out
Have you without a doubt
Chorus
Bridge
We could speed in the Phantom down the highway
Bet I beat that bottom if you swing it my way
Plenty-inch cigar
Get it off so mean if you let me squeeze
Wanna take you home
Mami, I'm Papi
Shorty bend dem knees!!
It's Gettin' Nasty
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Guitar, Horns, Piano, Slide Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
97
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
Chorus
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty in Here
We Gettin' Nasty
We Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty
It's Gettin' Nasty in Here
1st Verse
A brotha finally made to the weekend
I need a few freaks
It's been two weeks
Poured me a glass of Hen
And now we rollin', chokin' on dat Bluegrass
Puff and Pass boy!!!
Don't play with me
Dey been workin' me
Time to let my hair down
Now I'm pagin Chief
I know it's goin' down
"Where da broadies be?"
" I heard it's goin' down at Suga T's majorly!"
Please, be the right one baby!
All a playa need is one right laday
And a sack of dat Supa Kill
Lick a couple suckas, and peel, hit the motel
"Fool, get out the way!"
Now my boss is pagin' 911
"Not today"
Tonight I'm flying free
I'm on a Nasty Mission, Nasty Girls, Nasty No Inhibitions
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Ooh I'm likin' this
Caught that herbal mist outside the backdoor
It's lookin' dangerous
Gave the codeword
She looked at my man and let us in
Homey's to the left dice jigglin'
Hold up dog, let me break these brothas
I'm causin' problems wit dey baby's mothers
I don't know what could be goin' on inside dey heads
Instead of buyin' diapers, "Dummies, give me dat bread!!"
Looked to the right, spotted baby in red
She licked her lips, rubbed her hips, and led
Me down a flight of stairs to a private room
She whispered in my ear "My name is Doo Yu Soon"
Are you serious
Her rump was so trunk, I was curious
I don't know where we was 'bout to go
But if she wanna get nasty, man I'm ready fo'sho'
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
So I'm on the couch and she's straddlin' me
A pretty pink thong on, I grabbed dem cheeks
Then she started doin' dat dirty dancin'
Flirtin' and jerkin',unzipped my pants man!
Ol' Girl, you doin' it
Anything I got, baby you could get
She put it in her hand and started massagin'
My stick was wider than a three-car-garage, then
She grabbed my hand
Gently put my fingers in her promised land
It was gushing, soon I was pushing
I had to pound her tooshing
And I soaked her bushing
Repeat Chorus
Booty Shakin'
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Gypsy, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mid East, Middle Eastern Influence, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
G
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Booty Shakin'
Booty Shakin'
Chorus
Get ya booty shakin'
Drop ya A to Floor
Shake ya Money Maker
Till I'm ready to Blow
Repeat 1X
Verse 1
Shake it, shake it, shake it
But baby don't break it, break it, break it
Oh my God I love to see you naked
I can't take it
Ya' let me put my hands on ya hips and now I'm snake bit
You need to quit
Make me wanna strip
I can imagine both our bodies drippin'
When I watch ya' booty dip I'm trippin'
Schemin' on how I'm gonna slip in
Make ya hips bend
I'm behind ticklin'
Ya pearl
Wit my stick in
We both grinnin'
The room's spinnin'
You know what you do
How you do
When you do that thang
Make me wanna buy you a rang!
Duckin my gang
The way you make my thang sang
I'd win a grammy category sprung
Got me in shower hung waitin' to plunge
Girl you da' one!
Uh Oooooh!
Homey there she go
Twirlin' on the danceflo'
Wit a rump deluxe
U see why I'm always in the cut smashin' it up?
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Girl it ain't fair how you do that there
Everybody starin'
Wit dem tight pants dat you wearin', ya chil'ren
Had to be fun to make
I'm dreamin' of missionary nights grippin' dem cakes
For goodness sakes
Could you give a young brotha a break
Better yet, give a brotha a taste
Put ya lips on my face wit haste!
Let me fill up ya space
Undeniably you one of the greats, what would it take?
I appreciate ya!
U got every dude sittin' up in da club
Wit da bitter beer face
But you know they scrubs
Yet you showin' me love
Let's raise up
We can do it in the tub
Hot oil body rubs
Shake it, shake it
Wherever you move, I'll take it, take it!
Girl you ain't heard?
I can run a thousand miles
Especially when I'm runnin'.... FROGGYSTYLE!!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
"Bump, Bump, Bump, Bump"
I love the way ya booty's shakin' baby!
"Bump Bump, Bump, Bump"
You drivin' me crazy girl
"Bump, Bump"
Ya' waist is thin
Wit dem nice thick thighs
You can forget all dem other guys
You know dem chump's little willies won't fly!
Wiggle It Jiggle It
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Wiggle It Jiggle It
WIGGLE IT JIGGLE IT
CHORUS
I love it when you wiggle it and jiggle it
U know I gotta get it
Oooh girl you making me horny
Tonight it's me and you shorty
I love it when they wigglin' and jigglin'
U know I wanna get it !
Can I get next to you hottie?
Rub hot oil all on yo' body?
VERSE 1
Hold up wait a minute
There some pieces up in the party
Time to get up in it
I like it when you move ya hips nice and slowly
Diamonds up in the bevel blind
I'm flashin' the Roly
Hey, Oooh!
Please excuse me mama
U lookin' good tonight
Me no want no drama
Move weight
Yeah I'm known in the Burroughs
Flip the stash 5 times a week
Made thorough
Whassup? Whatup Hun!
You seen me at the bar with a stack of hunds
All dem other dudes steady bumpin dey gums
You heard about the flow
Now you think I'm the one?
Only if you gonna gimme some lung!
Wit' ice cubes, let my brothers bounce on your tongue
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
What can I say?
Can I kiss ya booty dimples today?
CHORUS
VERSE 2
100 proof
The way you move dat thang
Baby you the truth
Ya need some new moves?
Suga, I could coach ya
I tried to told ya
Get tha picta
Mi la vida loca hey!
Da kitty's hot
Actin' like it's not
Now you got me on the flo'
Drop it like it's hot
Let me touch it
We can make it easy
Hit da coast in something pleasing breezy
Stop
Let me hold dem buns
Baby oil dem cheeks
We could have some fun
Roll around the suite
Episodes discreet
I'd like to break a sweat
Dancin' off our feet hey!
Come on, Come on
Get it, Get it
You worked to get me open
Baby you done did it!
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
Let's lose da clothes
Let me get it while you touchin' ya toes woo!!
BRIDGE
The way you move dat A@!
I'm feenin' for ya
-Move it for mami hey-
I'm checkin' for you
Nothin I won't do
The way you move that thang
I'm waitin' for ya
-move it for mami hey-
Girl you so lovely
Won't you just come with me!
CHORUS
Upside Down
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1970s, Entertainment News, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Cop Show, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Funky, Good Time, Hot, Party, Playful, Relationship, Retro, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
102
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Upside Down
UPSIDE DOWN
CHORUS
Everything goin upside down yeah
Everything goin upside down you know its gonn be all right
A new game
VERSE 1
Why ya wanna turn my whole world around
I was tryin I was dyin' wanna hear that sound
This is another day feel a ray of sunshine
Divine I wanna tell you everything on my mind
I got flipped started to trip started to slip
But that was way back in the day new tricks up my sleeve
Like you wouldn't believe I cant breathe baby down on my knees
On the streets
(givin it up party down) baby girl im all turned around
now im gonna play a whole new game
hey hey
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Beggin please baby please put my mind at ease
You know im done messin around with them young ladies
Need relief new peace new breeze in the trees
Jump jump bump bump party people want want
A new day new phrase new blaze hot
Dancefloor spot where I wanna work it out
Keep it crunk keep it gully with my little bitty filly
Keep a little silly now im on top of the world
(livin it up party down) yeah girl were gonna party down
CHORUS
VERSE 3
Look girl understand with the mic in my hand
Im a sky up light up the whole big city
Need a committee with fifty to let 'em know
I'm gritty I don't pity other people we are
Upside down in this round round world
I was lost now found got a pearl of a girl
Party people if ya feelin me now everybody scream
CHORUS
Three Strikes U Out
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
G
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Three Strikes U Out
THREE STRIKES U OUT
Chorus
One, Two, Three Strikes U Out!
Verse 1
Bread Winner
Dope Getter
No betta'
U betta'
Go getta'
Kevlar Sweater
If you think you gonna test my neezies?
Please these rounds 'll come whistlin' by like a freezing breeze
Ya breezy 'll be left without her baby's Deezy
Wit' ya grandmother on her knees pleading weakly!
You don't want it
Don't do it
It's a loser son
Ya plan 'll have me leanin' out the window dumpin'
Don't let ya mouth get you into something
You never could imagine
It ain't worth the funkin'
I stay heated
Don't make me make you eat it homey
The O.G. told me just to hussle it up
Be ready to bust!!
Too many thugs plottin' on my paper
I get that feelin'
I'll just take her... Ya Mom! Ya Girl!
Can't afford expensive friction
My twin Nines 'll have ya head in the wind twistin'!
Repeat Chorus
Looked up
Couldn't duck
Quick enough
It's tough tryna hussle me? What?
I keep the Quality connected
But if you disrespect
I'll let 'em fly free
"On your knees!"
So many casualties
You little wannabees
It's really best you be easy!
Don't believe fat meat's greasy?
When I turn da corner of ya block in black
Keed, me with three patnas and the AK Straps
Perhaps,
You'll remember the jewel
Blessed ya but you chose to ignore the schoolin'
Second strike homey and I wish you much luck
Believe me! The drama's so beneath me
Discreetly, I'm a end it all
Come and get it all
After all
You don't want to brawl
Mayhem 'til they all crawl!
That's a real Thug anthem
There ain't no talkin'
We just clap 'em!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
You don't really want it
You don't really want it
You don't want it!
You don't want it with me
I'm a G for real
You don't really want it
You don't want it
You don't really want it
Ventilate ya brains
Burn ya house & peel!
You don't really want it
You don't really want it
You don't want it!
I know one thing, my heart ain't pumping
Koolaid, you minimum wage
Boy, wit' dis gauge
Come on out ya house!
It'll be ya last mistake Hey!
Playin' Dirty
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
85
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Playin' Dirty
PLAYIN' DIRTY
Chorus
Playin' Dirty
When we ridin'
Playin' Dirty
When we clubbin'
Playin' Dirty
We be comin'
Playin' Dirty
C'mon
Verse 1
Po-Po's always tryna catch us ridin' dirty
What's up derty?
It's time to flip this birdie
Columbian stacks in the safe
We tryna make a bundle add the bakin'soda to it den you shake it
After you chop and separate it
You' ridin' dubs thru the town
Let the suckas hate it!
Associates in every state
But be careful cause the streets is watchin' all the money that you make, wait!!
We Bossin'
Don't get it twisted when we flossin'
We'll take it to the mats
We love to hear the sounds of the muzzle crack
Boy you don't want that
We'll pop the trunk and twist your cap back
We countin' money like the NASDAQ – it's too much
We keep the baddest broads – for two months
We been lounging down by the water in San Drope
Rubbin' on big booties
That's how big boys play hey!
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
When it's mission time
There ain't a lot of barkin'
We get on our grind
A couple blunts we get to sparkin'
Our intelligence is better than the CIA
Assets watchin' your everymove, everyday
When it's time to launch the attack
I carry the MAC
Budda got the AK and we both wearin' black
We creep real slow
Before you know it
You feeling like you floatin'- the world receding below, it's
Not a dream
Boy you've passed away
My motto's "Best ya pull it, instead of taking a bullet!"
So you little rat punks get it straight
We the grimiest click no mistake
Homey take ya time and get ya weight up
You tryna come for mine?
Have you lost your mind?
Betta ask somebody,boy I run this city
Another young G gone what a pity!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
GUNS!
We got mo guns than a little bit
DRUGS!
We move it in and out, boy we flip a grip!
WAR!
If you really want to test our menace
All I gotta do is give 'em the word- you' finished!
GUNS!
We got mo guns than a little bit
DRUGS!
We move it in and out, boy we flip a grip!
WAR!
If you really want to test our menace
We'll wipe y'all all out it's a dirty business!
Repeat Chorus
Let's Ride
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Gypsy, Jail, Killer, Mean, Mid East, Middle Eastern Influence, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
140
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Let's Ride
LET'S RIDE
CHORUS
LET"S RIDE
Gotta hit the street – we packin' heat – we movin'
LET'S RIDE
Got the AK cocked, it's ready to pop – let's do it
LET'S ROLL
We comin' for ya – gunnin' for ya
So LET'S RIDE – Let's RIDE
VERSE 1
Gotta creep down the street when I hold the heat
Pop pop them drop them off of they feet
Ghetto chicks love it when I drop the beat
Tell em dirts done better hide the gun
Out on the stoop like what what
Officer ima have to duck
Straight out of luck better pass the buck
Aint nobody doin no gangsta ish
Im an educated thug I aint dangerous
Soon as popo done leave the spot
Better bet in a minute im cocked and locked
Hop in the whip 300 dropped
But it aint in my name if I get cold caught
Caught a bid once so I cant get dropped
It's a gangsta thing hit low when I swing
Got about 5 chicks waitin for that ring
Spend funny money like it aint no thing
Hook that cook that thing up
Better get blinged up
If you wanna ride with me
Gotta take control
Like an animal im on parole I don't pay the toll
Rolex on froze cuz I love them hoes
Made em arch they back as they touch they toes
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Got that dough betta bet we froze
Sippin on Veuve Cliquot you know
Cant mess with this in a 9 by 6
Shut them lips and it better be quick
2 holes in the chest start to switch
rap about it when I put it on the mix
make a hit stack bricks I am legit
I will click click then pow!
Chicks on the tip take one then flip
Out the back door when im done with it
Go to the show when they climb them poles
Better believe you wont get no dough
On the dance floor man out of control
On the blow when they pop the roll
Ak cocked so don't talk no mo
Smoke then roll nice and slow
Creepin up with he black tint windows
Better duck when you see me on the go
Yes yes get that get that fresh fresh
Hit that hit that hold the smoke
No beginner no choke
Roll up the dutch that's what I wrote
Ima pop the clutch I don't shoot no dope
Put a lazer scope on top of the do'
CHORUS
Verse 3
Blast ya gat ya off ya feet
I never rush im all low on the street
Keep it cool like luke cuz im ready to shoot
Lay down on the ground look what I found
Yeyo in the trunk man about a pound
I could flip that yo thats how I get down
Gotta get that dough then I pass it out
Gotta maintain without a doubt
Puff that puff that pass pass
Ruff that ruff that gas gas
Chalk it up then I cook it up
Rock it up up then I hook it up
Gotta get dirty bills man that's wussup
Pour a sip on the ground for the soldiers told ya
Puff that puff that pass pass
Ruff that ruff that gas gas
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
Hot In The Club
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Hot In The Club
HOT IN THE CLUB
CHORUS
Hot in the club yeah
Up in the club little drugs little love
Make it shine from above drink a little henny
Move that fanny outstanding
Im inside while you still in line
VERSE 1
Im holding hands with this divine thing
I think she make my mind sing
Yo we in a see through bathroom
Quick lock the door
Never seen a body like that before
Make me want to run home write metaphors
See we been doin it in the club since 94
This is a hip hop stick up sick put ya hands up
Wave em in the air like ya just got out of lock up
We walk up with 50 bouncers look shifty
Get ya hands out ya pocket quick kid
I saw ya hide those little diamonds
When you see my eyes shinin
Straight from Long Island better not look at the god
Now smiling okay okay
CHORUS
Hot in the club a little drugs little love
Make it shine from above
Drink a little henny move that fanny outstanding
Im inside while you still in line
VERSE 2
Ok ok I didn't bring no AK
Time to pop a hundred dollar sparkles
Yo pour in the chambord
I drove the LamborGhini here
But I think im leavin with that little teeny here
She whisperin good things in my ear
Oh my god say it out loud it sounds scandalous
Throw me off balance like bad drugs
We aint mad thugs we just come here to party
I like to sip cognac I don't drink Bacardi
Speakin of which lets switch seats I got to roll up a philly
Let the club feel the heat spread ya legs out
Move that ass move ya feet
CHORUS
Cocked And Loaded
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
2000s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
116
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Cocked And Loaded
Cocked & Loaded
Chorus
Come on come on - I'm cocked and loaded
Come on come on - I'm cocked and loaded
Don't keep me waitin' - - I'm 'bout to explode
I'm cocked and loaded - -cocked and loaded
Repeat 1X
Verse 1
I see you want me lady
Girl I'll rock you crazy
Girl you know I love you so bootyliscious
Mesmerize wit a walk so viscous, delicious
Top of my wish list
You see dese bills so crispy
Ain't seen you in a while- You Miss Me?
U know what I wanna do
And I know you wanna do it too baby!
You saw me roll up in the black best
'member when I put those hickies on your chest
I remember how we used to do
'member when came home from schoo'- when you came through!
Then I blew your back out
And then you blew my brains out
Girl you looking so good tonight
Let's take the same route
Me and you face down on the couch
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
Ooooh! It's still like dat?
Still like it when I grip dat fat?
I gotta big bone to bury
That Brazilian on them lips is down right scary
Still taste like honey
It's all hot, drop, pop, stop running!
I know it feels real good!
Bite ya lip when you grip
Take this wood
You so grown and creamy
Had to grab ya hair
Moaning, Screaming
10 minutes in, both beaming
It's steaming
An hour later, I'm leaning
An hour later, know what I'm thinking?
I'm COCKED AGAIN AND TWEAKING!
Let me move it side-to-side, in-and-out, find ya G-spot
Tap it till it's LEAKING!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
I'm comin' in the back do'
Gonna give it to you like you really want it baby
I'm comin' in the back do'
Gonna give it to you like you really want it baby
There's sweat drippin on the flo'
It's so Hot in here
It's so Hot
I'm comin' in the back do'
It's so Hot in Here
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
Don't Stop
I'm so cocked!
Go Getta
Artist(s): Stella Mwangi
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Stella Nyambura Mwangi (TONO) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Dance, Electronica Dance Club House Trance, Entertainment News, Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Bar, Celebrity, City, Club, Competition, Compton, Confident, Downtown, East LA, Energy, Fashion, Flirtatious, Gang, Ghetto, Girl's Night Out, Gritty, Groove, Hot, Miami, NYC, New York, Night Club, Paparazzi, Party, Positive, Radio, Rebellious, Red Carpet, Runway, Sexual, Sexy, South Central, Star, Street, Strip Club, Struggle, Style, Stylish, Territorial, Tough, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
120
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Go Getta
GO GETTA
VERSE 1
No, I can not wait
When I see what I want, keep my head on straight
I gotta get going now, can't stay here
So I gotta let you know I ain't got no fear, cause
Ain't no mountain too high
I climb on it like that's my ride
Let me put my cape on my back
Let'em know that a girl got it down like that
I was, born in the village
Now look at her flying over big cities, really
Aiming after that mille
To hell what you say I gotta push it to the limit, limit
Is up to you if you in or not
But I'm, speeding up to the wheels gone drop
It doesn't seem you will see me later
I got to get going to the next, haters
CHORUS (2X)
Ain't staying here or there,
Don't think you will see me later
Ain't staying here or there,
Don't think you will see me later
Cause I'm that go getta
I gotta go get it
Yeah I'm that go getta
I gotta go get it
VERSE 2
I gotta go get it, punches I roll with it
Proud when I get to say, look ma your girl did it
No freebies, no handouts
Can't get what you want what you hand out
I grew up on hard work so I know better
Even as a brat dad called me a go getta
High risk no low better
Even hatters put their hands in the air at the show with her
Cause I'm cool like that
Do what I want break a rule like that
Can't hang around so I can't chit chat
Boy you gotta find a girl who is down with that
Cause I, work hard look fly at the same time
Spell who I am for ya and even the name rhymes
S-T-E-L-L-A
G-O-G-E-T-T-A
CHORUS (2X)
BRIDGE
I'm that G-O-G-E-T-T-A, A-A-A (2X)
G-O-G-E-T-T-A, A-A-A-A (2X)
CHORUS (2X)
I Wanna
Artist(s): St. John
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
City, Dance, Energetic, Fun, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
I Wanna
I WANNA
CHORUS
Youre getting so hot why don't you take it off
Im gettin so hot I wanna I wanna
VERSE 1
Sugar and spice and everything nice
Let me take you to Rodeo lay ya hands and your wrist
And your neck on ice
You got spice like Bombay models on the runway
Let me tell ya bout the way we play in L.A.
Come and pick you up stay gone for three days
Thermostat must peak 85 degrees have you weak in the knees
Playalistic you don't have to speak you just have to scream
That skin so silk have me flipped like a fiend how you dip in them jeans
How you gonna act pimp say you got your own cream
I feel like I smoked woke up in a dream
Baby girl with them curls bubble bath and steam
I had to pull connection for the club tonight
But if you stay freaky we stay in tonight
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Im the first to run the last to come
Shake the timber like thunder stay limber go undercover
Like no other man can I don't mean to boast got a place on the coast
I don't mean to brag but no ragtops got the 600 tint and you know it stays dropped
Love you like hip hop when you take it off
Girl those hands so soft got the pedal to the medal
Wont stop until you stop everything stays rock
As we roll up the block hold your head up high
As we spark jade opticals bottles that we pop and pull
Feel like im in tropical weather whether youre coming soon
Or in the next room feel the boom from the bass and girl just in case
Im gonna hit and run baby im not even done cause we gonna see the sun
Girl that was just round one
CHORUS
YOURE BURNING UP BABY
LETS TAKE IT OFF BABY
Gold And Platinum
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gold, Night Club, Party, Platinum, Promo, Radio, Sports, Street
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gold And Platinum
GOLD AND PLATINUM
Chorus
Give me the ching, mister, now show me the money
Yeah give me the Escalade, fill the back seat with honeys
I'll throw down the beats - I'm holdin' my rhymes for ransom
Just show me the cash - I'll give you gold and platinum
My stance with this dude named Lance
Gimme my advance second chance no dance
All these fools fluctuated debated I cant wait
I love it I hate it I contemplate got no time
For fashion im mashin and smashin and stashin
These flows for he hold up wait a minute
Got my rub a dub bumpin at the club
Everybody push and shove now you wanna pull out from under me
The rug like im a rookie ya heard my mix tapes
I aint made a mistake since I was in the eighth grade
Makin fakers afraid now its time to get paid
Get laid get made sucka duck the fluctuation
This nation invaluable information
So yo stop slick let me give ya a market tip
If ya see me onstage flipping amazing grace
I need twenty points a joint ya need to stop slippin
Give me the ching mista
Now show me the money etc..
Chorus
One minute friends next asking you for ends
Vex me to an infinite degree lets see
Roll by in a Bentley see how many people act friendly
Invent the next experiment to test I flex perplex
Do you need the riches to get mmm that sucks
Say I live my life this way to my label execs
Floating clouds in jets watch me swift step
When you want air play I need money
Say fifty g a day for the next bangin hits that come
From my lips that get into the hips I just sip alize
Sike gimme the cris birds first rhymes second
Clutch a mic like a weapon wet physique
Well developed if ya blind ya can smell it if ya deaf
I can yell it if ya cant tell by now
Chorus
If my rhymes make dollars then my mind makes sense
Just holla
If ya detect the evidence
I fed words to the verbs 2 absurd flippin birds
In my benz third of my wealth I got stealth
Inclinations if you come correct persuasion
Got a little asian investment word to the wise
And the wisdom if ya eyes too big might get too jigga
By the time I got signed had a seat seven figures doesn't matter
Whos best whos bigger whos next the shakes come too late
Put it in the context us verses the universe
One simple chemical equation me + the beats = platinum reaction
Chorus
Dirty Money
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chaos, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Money, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, South Central, Street, Streets, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
82
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Dirty Money
Dirty Money
Chorus
Dirty Money makes the world go round
Y'all love the benjamins I toss on the ground
Dirty Money drives a dog insane
I gotta fist full of paper, It's all bloodstained
Repeat 1x
Verse 1
It's cold out here
Two minutes on my block you taste the atmosphere
It's sour on your lips
The back of ya throat's real dry
Ya stomach's turnin' over
An hour later you cry
We keep it gulley loved one
We don't care about nothin'
Preoccupied with our ones
Keep our adversaries starin' down the barrel of a gun
Rich, poor, young, old, they can all get some!!
Bridge1
"For the Money"
Choppin' rocks
Weed lacin'
You hussla?
Catch you slippin' put 'dese bullets in ya face
"I don't know"
Who made the rules of the game
Beirut or the Block, home it's all the same
"If you can't take it"
Stay of the streets for real
It's not a game dog
It's too late to get to talkin'
When I run up in ya spot wit' da Mac Milli
If you don't act right
"Somebody's blood I'm spilling!"
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
As the world rotates on its sideways axis
I'm sideways creepin' in the hog with the black Smith & Wesson
My victims never know, I keep 'em guessin'
Lookin' for some work?
Homey don't stress it!
I keep the pounds of weed
My white 'ill make ya nose bleed
Cut it wit da bakin' soda
Flood the streets
I'm sellin' mo guns than Walmart
Got a room full of ammunition
Throwin' 'em like darts you tarts
Bridge 2
"For the Money"
Duckin' cops
Enemy chasin'
You a sucka
Catch you slippin' put 'dese bullets in ya face
"I don't know"
Who made the rules of the game
I'm the bully of the block, yeah you know my name
"If you can't take it"
Stay of the streets for real
It's not a game dog
It's too late to get to talkin'
When I run up in ya spot wit' da Mac Milli
Betta open up the safe
Or I'm gonna start peeling!
Repeat Chorus
Bridge 3
Adlibs
"Oooh Oooh"
I don't care what it takes
I'm a make my paper
Thug life ain't easy
"Oooh Oooh"
I'm always tryna raise the stakes
Never hesitate to grab the gauge and rampage
Repeat Chorus
What Up
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Bouncy, Club, Energetic, Flirtatious, Fun, Good Time, Hot, Old School, Party, Playful, Retro, Rowdy, Sexy, Teen, Upbeat, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What Up
WHAT UP
CHORUS
What up lets rock this party
H2 limo and a case of Bacardi
Ladies in the back seat gonna act naughty
You know we rock the spot
What up get high supersonic
Me and the crew like to twist the chronic
2004 hip hop bionic
you know we rock the spot
VERSE 1
Turnin' it out in the club with Jamaican rub-a-dub
The ice from my neck reflects the bubbles from the bub
Strip off them clothes girl climb in the tub
Full body rub then it gets x-rated
Never kiss and tell gotta keep it understated understand
Im debated all around the world
Black skin white skin and Indian girls
Travellin' around and putting it down
Bein a clown makin the sounds
Too many people to put in equal stereo scenario
Why ya wanna be hater jealous of me
Don't think the game that comes with fame don't also
Come with envy
Gotta pay attention did I mention that its real
Come on everybody make em hot make em peel
Off come the tops man that's how im gonna steal
The ladies make em crazy gang star mass appeal
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Thinking about the rhythm keeping my seat in the middle
Two tender vittles to the right and the left
Holdin my breath that was the last hit left
Hookin up some more green and the branches
And bounce across the stanchions
Dreamin' about mansions time for expansions
Aint no way that we could ever roll with less than fifty
Plus we got the gift B makin people shifty
Party people pushin possibilities for me
Gimme the mic any night rock it right
Just to get a sight of me
Have to pay fifty G increase the artery
Like you won the lottery
Got these hotties with bodies
Beside of me thinking about is heavenly
Sheezy with the bubbly trying to get
In trouble see the only way ill ever be makin them hits
Make you party the crews about to get
CHORUS
WHOA OH WHOA OH WHOA OH
CHORUS
Walkin' The Wild
Artist(s): Echelon 7
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45% / Juliana Bolden (ASCAP) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Echelon 7 Music Publishing (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rock
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, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
100
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Walkin' The Wild
WALKING THE WILD
YEAH YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR STEP
WE TRYING TO DO THIS (SEXY) STYLE
YEAH WALK'S WILD
U BEST HAVE YOUR OWN BACK IF YOU'RE GONNA STEP OUT HERE AND TRY TO LIVE LIKE WHAT?
Verse 1
WATCH WHERE YOU STEPPING
WHEN YOU WALKING THE WILD
'CAUSE IT'S BUCK OUT HERE
PUNKS GIVE A F***OUT HERE
HE WAS WAITING AT THE BUSTOP
GAZING AT THE DROPTOPS
FLOATING BY DREAMS OF HUSTLIN' AND FLOWIN'
NOW HE'S WILDIN' WITH THE WILDEST
CHILDISH TANTRUMS
SEARCHIN FOR AN ANTHEM TO LIVE BY - WHY?
'CAUSE HE GOT ALL THE MONEY
STILL CAN'T FEED HIS SOUL
'CAUSE HE GOT ALL THE HONEYS
GOT THESE STUNTS ON HOLD
'CAUSE HE HAD ALL THE MONEY
BUT LIVES BY THE SHOT
AND CAN'T STOP - 'CAUSE NOBODY STAYS TOO HIGH
YOU GOT KEEP SHOOTING TO BREAK THE COME DOWN
NOW THE CLOUDS SO THICK CAN'T SEE THE GROUND
NOW WHO'S BANGING AT THE DOOR
DROPPED COCKED THE NINE
SWEATING COLD BULLETS OF SWEAT BET
CAUSE PEOPLE GET TO TRIPPING WHEN THEY'RE
THINKING EVERYBODY'S A THREAT
THE WALK'S WILD
chorus
WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKING WHEN YOU'RE WALKING THE WILD
IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MONEY PIMPING HOES FOR MILES
TRYING TO STAY ALIVE WHILE THE BODIES PILE
THE WALK'S WILD
WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKING WHEN YOU'RE WALKING THE WILD
SKY HIGH FAT RIDES HUSTLER STYLE
TRYING TO STAY ALIVE WHILE THE BODIES PILE
THE WALK'S WILD
verse 2
PUNKS BE FRONTING LIKE THEY'RE STARTERS
WHEN THEIR RIDING THE BENCH
ME I'M STEADY SINKING THREES
PAID MY DUES IN THE TRENCH
HANDLING MY OWN 'CAUSE I GOT IT LIKE THAT
I SHOOT MY LYRIC LIKE A BULLET
SO I'M LYRICALLY STRAPPED
SEE THE WALLS LIKE JERICHO CRASHING DOWN
WON'T CATH ME STALLING WON'T STICK AROUND
SEE IT'S NOT ABOUT YOUR CREW
OR WHAT THEY G'ON DO
WHEN THE ROUGH GOES DOWN
AIN'T GOT NOTHING BUT YOU
YOU'D BE SURPRISED HOW QUICK THE GLITZ FADES
DON'T BE SURPRISED HOW QUICK THE FRIENDS FADE
ARE YOU SURPRISED HOW SICK THE BLOOD SPRAYS
PANICKING - LOOKED LIKE THE PO'S
DROPPED YOUR GIRL LIKE A MANNEQUIN
NOW WHO HEARD THE CLAPPING
HEAR THE SIRENS ROAR
COLLAPSE IN TEARS RED POOLS ON THE FLOOR
HANDCUFF YOU AND YOU'RE OUT THE DOOR
THE WALK'S WILD
CHORUS
verse 3
SHE'S THE DEVIL IN DRAG
PLAY THE BOYS LIKE CHESSMASTERS
THEY GET THERE FASTER BRINGS THE HEAT THEY'RE AFTER
PUT IT ANYWHERE YOU WANT IT
DROP THE BOOTY LIKE PRO
WORK A BODY LIKE JOB SHAKE 'EM DOWN LIKE MOB
SHOOK DOWN FOR HIS CASH CAUSE HE CLUELESS
THOUGHT HE HAD THAT ASS LOCKED
SHE'S ON SOME NEW SH**
SHOCKED TO FIND HER LEGS WRAPPED
AROUND HIS BOY'S BACK
THE WALK'S WILD
CHORUS
verse/rep
ARE YOU SURPRISED HOW QUICK THE FRIENDS FADE
ARE YOU SURPRISED HOW QUICK THE GLITZ FADES
SEE IT'S NOT ABOUT YOUR CREW
OR WHAT THEY G'ON DO
WHEN THE ROUGH GOES DOWN
AIN'T GOT NOTHING BUT YOU
YEAH YOU GOT ALL THE MONEY
STILL CAN'T FEED YOUR SOUL
YEAH YOU GOT ALL THE HONEYS
GOT THESE STUNTS ON ROLL
MONEY LOVE SEX DRUGS BLOOD RUN COLD
THE WALK'S WILD
YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR STEP
WATCH YOUR STEP OUT HERE
CHORUS
IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MONEY
IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MONEY
LIKE THIS - UNH
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
Gimme A Wooo
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street, Urban
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gimme A Wooo
GIMME A WOOO
GIMME A WOOO
EVERYBODY FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK SIDE TO SIDE
GIMME A HEYY
ALL THE LADIES GONNA TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE TONIGHT
Now let me take you for a little ride tonight
Pimped back in a Cadillac feeling allright
Old school like a pimp on a Saturday night
Lean back in the seat head tilt to the right
I aint a mean man I could just lean man
Pull over for a second pull out the green man
You know we smoke lets do it (do it)
See that red light run right through it
Aint nothing but a party goin down right now
All the ladies in the ride got that rump like pow
Wanna know how I do it just ask me how
Jeans is pressed and smell so fresh
Mint tic tacs something for the breath
Straight half twisted by the time I left
On the two way speeding down the freeway
Me and my dj going to rock the spot tonight
Chorus
Now all the ladies in the place are you feeling allright
Got style and finesse old school like def
New school like fool better catch your breath
Ill be rockin this party till theres no one left
Straight crunk in the back get it packed that's my method
Aint no one in the spot waiting to get hectic
A little attitude my crew will correct it
Move that little thing over I inspect it
Went to the corner of the club she directed
Licked her lips and then she moved her hips
In my mind I was wylin doin two back flips
Does she drive automatic or she ride that stick
Chorus
Little twinkle in the eye now she act all slick
I like short ones tall ones skinny or thick
Down south out west or shes from the bricks
Now they all acting fly so just take your pick
Be a gentleman got that adrenaline
Pump like medicine into the system
Look how she glistens like the diamonds on my wrist
Pourin cris in the glass you know we pimp like this
I aint nothing but a fiend for this all night thing
Hands up in the air iced out like bling
Now just gimme that beat so I can do my thing
Da Joint
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Barrio, City, Dance, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Gang, Gangsta, Getting High, Ghetto, Night Club, Party, Radio, Sexy, Street, Weed
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Da Joint
DA JOINT
Roll it up - twist it up - light it up -in the spot - spark it spark it
CHORUS:
Just roll stuff up, don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot and smoke da joint
Just roll that stuff up, don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot and smoke da joint
Ain't nothin' wrong with stayin' blazed, purple haze
At beginning or the middle or the end of the day
I could straight smoke 'til I don't know my name
Met this girl in Amsterdam, said her name was Elaine, at the cafe'
Sun rays on my brain - I knew I could say somethin' to straight bump and maintain -- i said "Let's roll up and then ride the train"
We laughed and did the math and said, naw man it's rainin'
Took me up the stairs, jumped out the underwear
Smoked the se nsemilla, said I had to compare, two taste-tests
No rest, she's impressed, I been the champion number 1
And ever since I discovered that the weed'll get it done
Natural aphrodisiac and spectacular
Love on the woman as you flip the vernacular
CHORUS
Late at night like and the stars stare back atcha
Jesus was a dread and he smoked down in Afrikka
Tell it to a Senate that hemps our progenitor
What you think the Constitution's written on?
What ya think Washington was growin', what I'm hittin' on
What you think every old ship used to sail with
Don't be ignorant, just be careful who you're sharin' with
I'd rather smoke and drive slow than hit a fifth and be loco
No joke, some of that stuff'll have you in a choke hold
Hold up -- while I was thinkin' about this my man rolled up
Smellin' like Christmas -- I had to take a break an' shake a leg
And get nice, relax on the mic, feel so precise
Put ice in the bong an' get cool cool hits
Something wrong with your health then smoke will benefit come on
CHORUS
DA JOINT -- pg. 2
Many people in a tenement smoke a dime piece, they need to find peace
You live in the streets, I had to get relief 'cos I know nothin' better
People get together every color any weather
Peace proposition slide with no friction
Start the ignition with the peace pipe offering over any topic
We could get on top of it, high light trees hippies in the sixties
(Get high) Yeah, just roll it up
(Get high) twist it up
(Get high) stay blazed
(Stay high Come on jump
CHORUS
Roll that stuff up don't miss the point
Roll up in the spot then smoke da joint (come on)
Roll that stuff up don't miss the point (woo)
Roll up in the spot then smoke da joint
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed
Roll it up Twist it up
Light it up - stay blazed.
(C) 2003 Lyrics and Music by Bob Mair, Nick Vincent and Richard Trapp
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
Bullet To The Brain
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:
97
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bullet To The Brain
Bullet to tha Brain
1st Verse
I'm tired of the game
I'm going insane
I feel the reaper stalkin'
I'm the one to blame
30 years servin', killin', and robbin'
Now I'm looking in the mirror
My trigga' finger's throbbin'
What can I do- there's nowhere to run
I got no education
For the love of the gun
I gave up on my future
Fathers save your sons
Cause my mother did her best
She couldn't save me from
Blood in me from the other half of the Tree
My Great Grand, Grand, and my Pops was G's
My first words was "Daddy"
Second one was "Freeze!!!"
I'm disgusted wit my life
Dog it's hard to breathe ('cuz)
Chorus
It's gonna make me go insane
Gotta put a bullet to tha brain
It's gonna make me go insane
Gotta put a bullet to that brain
Like a dog passed his prime
Ain't no use, time to die
It's gonna make me go insane
Gotta put a bullet to tha brain
2nd Verse
I ran the gang
I killed for fame
Caused havoc on tha streets
Made 'em fear my name
You looked at me wrong
You'd get 2 in da brain
Now I look up and all I see's the same
Things that I did
Passed on to kids
Not even the dey teens
Pullin' 10 year bids
They looked up to me
And I convincingly
Led 'em all down the road to catastrophe
I knew one day that I would have to pay
For what I did to 'em
It's my casket day
I can feel it all around
I can hear the sound
Payback is a mutha
The game's claimed another
Repeat Chorus
3rd Verse
Too much to drink
Too much to smoke
A rat infested spot
No contacts for coke
A gangsta passed his prime
Wit' no love or hope
I'm in a daze
Lookin' for someone to choke
I've tried everything
Tryna kill da pain
I've loaded up da bullets
Man I'm going insane
I'm running outta time
No better days for me
Just dark nights
A street life casualty
Got the.45- one in da chamber
Tremblin', Overdosin' on anger
I'm hearin' voices this is too much pressure
All I see is bloodstains
From a bullet to my brain
Repeat Chorus
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