Tracks Similar To Hold It Down
Come Get It
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Aggressive, Alley, Boisterous, City, Cocky, Confident, Crime, Dangerous, Drugs, Fight, Gang, Gritty, Hype, Intimidating, Loud, Mean, Mischief, New York City, Party, Power, Raw, Rough, Rowdy, Rucker Park, Ruckus, Sports, Street, Taunting, Tough, Wild
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Saxophone
BPM:
107
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Come Get It
Back it up, back it up, punk get off me
Or get dunked like a donut in coffee
But I ain't a pig, I peel your wig back
Puffin on a blunt, crack open a six pack
Swig it, I get it how I live it
And that's large, the one in charge
I spit it, like an AK spray
Wet up your whole crew, make my day, punk
Pop junk, get popped in the teeth
This ain't a BBQ, you don't want no beef
I'll give it to you raw, homeboy, just hollar
If you wanna get some, I'll break you off proper
CHORUS:
Break'em off, break'em off,
Break'em off, break'em off some
Break'em off, break'em off,
Break'em off, break'em off some
You can come get it,
You can come get it,
You can come get it,
If you want some, you can come get it
Try to step to me and you're gonna get dropped
I got a left and a right that goes pop, pop, pop
Down for the count, another round of shots
Bottoms up, grab the mic and wreck shop
Leaving wack crews, dazed and confused
What you gonna do when this menace come for you
got nothing on the southpaw style
flip you like a waffle, wake up horizontal
I'll leave a sucker empty, boy don't tempt me
my fists are heavy, you ain't ready
serving beat downs, with the body rocker
so if you want some, I'll break you off proper
Cutting Throats
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, City, Crime, Criminal, Dangerous, Dark, Drive By, Drugs, Frightening, Gang, Ghetto, Intimidating, Jail, Mean, Menacing, Ominous, Prison, Raw, Rough, Scary, Street, Tough, Underground, Vicious, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Synths
BPM:
102
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Cutting Throats
Break'em take'em for whatever they got, run the jewels
Heat in the holster always stay hot, gunning the fools
Sonning whole crews, when we roll through
Bow down and stay down, before the loaded clip fold you
I got cold shoulders, and cold veins that hold steady cold steel,
Aim and blow brains
Spaghetti stained sidewalks, nighthawks swooping down
Taking all that you got or your life, whoever new in town
Back the FFF Up
Back the FFF Up
Roll up on'em like what, what, what
Back the FFF Up
Back the FFF Up
The game is cut throat so that throat gets cut
What's mine is mine, what's yours is mine, you get repo'd
I got keys for the city, keys short for kilos
Pistol to your peephole, knock knock who is it
Blockah blockah, to the dome, with the chrome, nobody home
Gunsmoke, weed smoke, chicks wanna rub and tug
motorboat them bras til the strap pop, keep the hammer cocked
Shel ls rock bells, ricochet, stray shots spray
Like raid on a roach who try to approach this
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!!
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
Me Vas A Conocer
Artist(s): Danny Osuna
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Danny Richard Osuna (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Latin
Subcategories:
Cartel Rap, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Latin Hip Hop, Male Vocal, Narco Rap, Rap, Spanish, Urban
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Arrest, Barrio, Border, Cartel, Chaos, City, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energy, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Intimidating, Jail, Latin, Mean, Mexican, Mexico, Mug Shot, Narco, Ominous, Prison, Rage, Riot, Scary, Shooting, Spanish Lyrics, Street, Streets, Struggle, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Percussion, Piano, Synth
BPM:
100
Language:
Spanish
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Me Vas A Conocer
La corrupción siempre es igual
todos quieren un pedazo del pan
pero con la muerte no deben jugar
los puedo enterrar
Y mi polvo no pueden tocar
así aprendio aquel federal
mi mercancía me quiso quitar
ese fue su final
El dinero trae sangre y no va ver paz
yo soy el narco violento que va a triunfar
el gobierno en mis manos
todos comprados años atrás
CHO
El diablo lo vas a conocer
este narco tiene poder
el diablo lo vas a conocer
este narco nunca va a perder
La guerra de carteles siempre va estar
pura violencia en la vecindad
soy el patron de esta cuidad
tu pesadilla
English Translation:
The corruption is always the same
everybody wants a piece of that bread
but you shouldn't play with death
I can bury you
You shouldn't touch my powder
the police agent found out the hard way
he wanted to touch my merchandise
he met his end
Money brings blood and there will not be peace
I'm that violent narco who will succeed
the government is are in the palm of my hands
everybody was bought years ago
CHORUS:
You will meet the devil
this narco has a lot of power
you will meet the devil
this narco will never lose
This war of cartels will always exist
pure violence in this town
I'm the boss of this city
your nightmare
What I Am
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:
Rock
Subcategories:
1990s, Action, Hard Core Rap, Hard Rock, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap, Rap Rock
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Arrest, Barrio, Boastful, Bragger, Chaos, City, Compton, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energy, Frat Party, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Loot, Mean, Mug Shot, Ominous, Outrage, Prison, Rage, Rape, Riot, Scary, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Struggle, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Cowbell, Drums, Guitar, Percussion
BPM:
88
Key:
F♯m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What I Am
Been bangin' since I was seven
A lost hope
Put on some Dickey's and picked up a.44
A flame thrower, feeling no jokes
I opened up on my veins and nearly overdosed
No Similac suckin' young hoodie's buckin'
Hold fully automatics I'm a semi-nut and
I cede nothing cause livin wit no dough
If you comin' soft ya slippin' it's a no no I'll lay you low
Cause I am
Huntin' for the folks that slick slicky
Punk if you don't I bury slow lames sickly
You hopin' I'll go, set you free, can't without the keys
I'ma end the matter wit the magazine make ya peace.
What I am is what I am
So you wanna little peace of me
What I am is what I am
I'ma show you how it's gonna be
Please forgive me when we settle the sco'...so street
My mortal enemy has taken my soul my life's overtaken
For my minds seekin'
No sleep, my brain's leakin'
When I tried giving up the fangs cut deep and rough
I'm feelin' stuck, I'm a soldier forsaken seekin' lovin'
I'm dreaming holding the trigger with 9 killers dumpin'
I strayed wrong, chasin' mo dough, robbin' and peelin' I'm cold bottled up, my domino's falling slow!
Now take a look at ya! When seein' mo' figures in dollar-takes the mo' we lie!
And all the sorrows keep my criminal insane karma comin'.
When it comes a callin' and I fall who's going wit' me now?
There's no fakin', there's no more "take-a-knee"
Walkin' the stroll so meekly
Singin' a song so sickening
Too many blunts you won't wake up
You're only weakening
Thickest one- we sickin' 'em
Then I'll hook you up to mega watts and make you think again
Rotten to the core
I spit and now you know
Don't wanna push me son, fo' sho' end the scenario
Arms-fitted an I'm so quick wit' it
If you balk gonna walk that talk; don't want that chalk; you smerk- I'll wreck it! Cause I
En El Club
Artist(s): Cash El Principe
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 33.34% / Luis Rivera (ASCAP) 33.33% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 16.67% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 33.33% / Booli Mooli Music (ASCAP) 16.66% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 33.34%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Latin Hip Hop, Latin Hip Hop Rap, Male Vocal, Rap, Reggaeton
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Arrest, Barrio, Chaos, City, Club, Compton, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Lute, Mean, Mexico, Mug Shot, NYC, New York, Ominous, Outrage, Prison, Rage, Rape, Riot, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Spanish Lyrics, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Struggle, Urban, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
95
Language:
Spanish
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
En El Club
"En El Club" (Spanish)
Chorus
Pon Las Manos Arriba, Si Me Sienten
En Este Club Las Mamis Estan Calients
Vamos Mi Gente, Vamo A Bailar
Brinden Sus Tragos, Vamos A Gozar
Verse 1
Miro Pal Lado Y La Gente Esta Bailando
Miro Para El Otro Lado La Gente Esta
Sudano, De Aqui Te Veo La Cabeza
Estas Meneando, Y Las Cinturas
Moviendo De Lado A Lado
En La Barra Si La Gente Esta Tomando
Los Que Bailan En El Piso Estan
Planeando, Y Los Tipos Aqui Aprovechando
Lo Que Pasa En El Club Es Un Escandalo
Chorus
Verse 2
Oye No Se Asusten Mamis, Esto Lo Que
Le Trae El Negro. Para Que Muevan
La Caderas Y Su Cuerpo, Esta Caliente
Pero Eso Lo De Meno, Cantalo Asi
Muevelo Asi, Gritano Por Mi, Pa Que Se Viste
Asi, Tentando Me Ami, En El Club Asi!
"En El Club" (English translation)
CHORUS:
Put your hands up - if you feel me
In this club all the ladies are hot
Come my people and let's dance
Put your drinks to the air and have fun
VERSE
I look to the left and the people are dancing
I look to the right side and the people are sweating
I can see you from here - you're shaking your head
I can see the ladies shaking their hips
In the bar the people are drinking
The ones on the dance floor are planning
And the guys on the side are taking advantage
What happens in the club in always scandalous
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Listen - don't alarm yourself
'Cos this is what the black man is bringing to you
So you can move your hips and your body
I know it's hot but don't worry
BRIDGE:
Sing like that - move like that
Screaming for me while you dress like that
Tempting these men in the club like that
CHORUS
Wiggle It Jiggle It
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Calamari Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Booty, Bump n Grind, Chaos, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Crunk, Dance, Dark, Deep South, Dirty, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, Mean, Mug Shot, NYC, Nasty, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Scary, Sexy, South Central, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Upbeat, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
101
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Wiggle It Jiggle It
WIGGLE IT JIGGLE IT
CHORUS
I love it when you wiggle it and jiggle it
U know I gotta get it
Oooh girl you making me horny
Tonight it's me and you shorty
I love it when they wigglin' and jigglin'
U know I wanna get it !
Can I get next to you hottie?
Rub hot oil all on yo' body?
VERSE 1
Hold up wait a minute
There some pieces up in the party
Time to get up in it
I like it when you move ya hips nice and slowly
Diamonds up in the bevel blind
I'm flashin' the Roly
Hey, Oooh!
Please excuse me mama
U lookin' good tonight
Me no want no drama
Move weight
Yeah I'm known in the Burroughs
Flip the stash 5 times a week
Made thorough
Whassup? Whatup Hun!
You seen me at the bar with a stack of hunds
All dem other dudes steady bumpin dey gums
You heard about the flow
Now you think I'm the one?
Only if you gonna gimme some lung!
Wit' ice cubes, let my brothers bounce on your tongue
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
What can I say?
Can I kiss ya booty dimples today?
CHORUS
VERSE 2
100 proof
The way you move dat thang
Baby you the truth
Ya need some new moves?
Suga, I could coach ya
I tried to told ya
Get tha picta
Mi la vida loca hey!
Da kitty's hot
Actin' like it's not
Now you got me on the flo'
Drop it like it's hot
Let me touch it
We can make it easy
Hit da coast in something pleasing breezy
Stop
Let me hold dem buns
Baby oil dem cheeks
We could have some fun
Roll around the suite
Episodes discreet
I'd like to break a sweat
Dancin' off our feet hey!
Come on, Come on
Get it, Get it
You worked to get me open
Baby you done did it!
You so petite
I'm tryna creep
Let's lose da clothes
Let me get it while you touchin' ya toes woo!!
BRIDGE
The way you move dat A@!
I'm feenin' for ya
-Move it for mami hey-
I'm checkin' for you
Nothin I won't do
The way you move that thang
I'm waitin' for ya
-move it for mami hey-
Girl you so lovely
Won't you just come with me!
CHORUS
What 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
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!
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
Police Goin' Down
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (ASCAP) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angry, Arrest, Back Alley, Barrio, Boastful, Boom Box, Chaos, City, Club, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Death, Drinking, Drive By, Drugs, Energetic, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Guns, Hard, Jail, Killer, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, Night Club, Old School, Police, Prison, Rebellion, Retro, Revolt, Revolution, Riot, Scary, Shooting, Street, Swagger, Thug, Tough, Urban, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Synthesizer
BPM:
96
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Police Goin' Down
Police Goin' Down
Chorus
Police goin' down
They gonna feel my pain
I hear a siren
It's makin' me insane
Police goin' down
Cause killin' brothas gotta stop
Let's ride
Gonna find me a cop
Let's ride
Gonna find me a cop
Verse 1
Why we always funkin wit da boys in blue?
Them cowards always come around harrassin' duke
Make me wanna grab the sawed-off and bust
They betta wear dey vests
Because in guns we trust
We great the triple K's wit da AK's
Homey's on da roof pot shottin' e'ry day Aye Aye!
Punk police protect our neighborhood?
Wit dey boots on our necks
Boy I wish dey would
Try to Rodney King me
See me on TV
Face down 8 cops
When I gave up at Freeze!
But a young brotha's life means next to nothin'
To these donut eatin' chumps
They can think we bluffin'
Whether blood or cuzin'
It's our time for huntin'
Let me tell you wick-wack rollers some'n
We tired of shakedowns and brutality
We'll protect and serve ourselves you da enemy
Repeat Chorus
Verse 2
The ghetto bird's roamin'
I can hear the shots
As here dey come again
Terrorizin' the block
Who gave dese leeches the authority
To steal our civil rights keep us on our knees
If I'm chillin' on da corner- with the gang injunction
I'm in an orange suite
It takes a lot of gumption
To treat a whole race
Like dey caught a case
I know dem cowards love it
It's all on day face
It's terror on the streets
Yet they screamin' peace
There'll never be peace wit the blitzkrieg police
They'll run up in ya house and start sprayin' bullets
A no-knock search made my grandma pull it
Poorly executed rip on an informant's tip
Wadn't no drugs in her house
She was 86
When dey finally hit the news that night on CNN
I smell a cover-up
Dem boyz is at again!
Repeat Chorus
Verse 3
Undercover police
The harassment won't cease
I know dey tryna get me
That's why I tote heat
When da cops is comin'
Hollow-points we dumpin'
I'm tryna leave 'em front seat of da car slumpin'
You gotta understand the pain
400 years of pillagin'
Slavin' wit no gains
We tired of eatin' dirt
Plenty bills but no work
You can call it what you wanna
They dirty! – The Truth Hurts
Repeat Chorus
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
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
Hard Time
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, Hard Time, 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:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Hard Time
Hard Time
Chorus
It's hard time we're doing
Yeah the clock is hardly moving
But I'll take this life of ruin
Instead of being back on the streets
I'm here with my brothers
Livin in a world like to other
Doing 25 'til the end
This is hard time
Hard time
1st Verse
I had to rob & kill
Showed meticulous skill
w/ terrorist occupations
I imposed my will
On the weak and the strong
Partied all night long
After slangin' crack
And cappin enemies in throngs
I enjoyed the street life
It gave me everything I needed
Money, cars, and broads
Understandings with the law
Death- when I decreed it
You was gone with zeal
Got caught wit' steel
Out of town kickin it
Behind the wheel for real
Officer smelled weed in the air
Traced the bullets back, two merks, I caught a pair
(pause)
of 25 year-to-life sentences
(pause)
shadows
(long pause)
Apply the pressure when they break
Give it up, it's all mine, it's too late
(pause)
It's my show I can handle the grind
Me and homies handle thangs
Doin' HARD TIME!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
I'm still gone grind
I'm doing hard time
Hard time
What's yours is mine
This is hard time
Hard time
You better watch you do
You doing hard time
You're all mine
Me and my crew
It's our time
Doing hard timeapplied my street life
Now I'm entrenched in here!!
The price you have to pay - a life of crime
Got the homeys in here I'm doing hard time
These are the cards I've dealt and I ain't looking back
Cause in here they still fear me
I'm the king of the pack
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
(pulled)... It's still the street life
Everything's the same, the cell-block-is-the corner
People scheme for fame
(pause)
You might get stuck
Riots, nights erupt
Slip in the weight room
And get hockey-pucked
Try-to-pay-me-late
I Snatch they dinner plates
Wifey sends the monthly letter
Man, I take they cake
These punks know
I set-it-off fo' sho'
Me and the homes run da spot
Keep a steady flow
Of product circulatin'
I'm a gangsta bro
(pause)
Pay the guards, but I'm realizin' though
Get a chance they'll take-you-out-quick
There's always enemies lurkin' in da
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
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!
Megaphone Large
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Old School, Rap
Keywords:
Action, Aggressive, Aware, Boisterous, Change, City, Cocky, Confident, Confrontational, Dangerous, Edgy, Fed Up, Fight, Gang, Gritty, Intimidating, Loud, Political, Power, Protest, Raw, Rebellious, Resistance, Riot, Rough, Rowdy, Society, Street, Taunting, Tough, Unrest, Uprising, Wild
Instruments:
Drums, Guitar, Percussion, Scratches, Trumpet
BPM:
110
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Megaphone Large
You need to put these suckas in their place man
They don't know what they doing
You really need to show them what's
Really going on out here, eh yo!
Rolling through with my posse
Just watch me, an army can't stop me
Intelligent, militant minded
Ring the alarm, strongarm behind it
Street soldiers got my back
We on the attack, cutting no slack
The squad gets bigger, coming at you like a
Pack of gorillas, heavy hitters
Rain or shine, crash your party one time
Like elephants run through your front line
Lead the charge, to bomb your whole squad
Voice of the people, megaphone large
Megaphone large
Megaphone large
Megaphone large
Megaphone large
It's time to show and prove
They better get down or lay down
You know what I'm saying, word up!
Yo, it's time to shut it down!
Black boots stomping, mask and gloves
Better duck when the shotgun pumps
Smash windows, where's your heroes
They just zeroes, never fear those
Surrounded by yellow tape
Proceed with caution, can't handle the weight
Too heavy, you ain't ready
Cut your propaganda to confetti
Can't lose, light the fuse
Won't be televised, shut down the news
Lead the charge, to bomb your whole squad
Voice of the people, megaphone large
Yo Life
Artist(s): Arsonist
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Christopher Jenkins (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Rap, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Tension and Suspense
Keywords:
Aggressive, 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, Reality TV, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Bells, Drums, Guitar, Percussion, Piano, Strings
BPM:
100
Key:
Cm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
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
Puto Gobierno
Artist(s): Paco
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 33.34% / Francisco Jimenez Garcia (ASCAP) 33.33% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Tony Vose Music (BMI) 33.33% / Latino Style Publishing (ASCAP) 33.33% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 33.34%
Category:
Latin
Subcategories:
Cartel Rap, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Latin Hip Hop, Latin Hip Hop Rap, Male Vocal, Narco Rap, Rap, Spanish, Urban
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Barrio, Cartel, Chaos, City, Cops, Corruption, Crime, Criminal, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Government, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Mean, Mexican, Mexico, Narco, Ominous, Oppression, Outrage, Prison, Rage, Scary, Shooting, Social Commentary, South Central, Spanish Lyrics, Street, Streets, Struggle, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
93
Language:
Spanish
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Puto Gobierno
PUTO GOBIERNO (Original Spanish)
Esto es lo que pienso... cerdos!
CHORUS 1 (2X)
Puto Gobierno, todo corrupto
No somos brutos
No sean injustos
El pobre es mas pobre
El rico es mas rico
Vamos cayendo de culo y de hocico
VERSE 1
Soy uno mas, uno mas de la lista
De estos inmigrantes buscando nueva vida
Pues de donde vengo no hay otra salida
Que venir a la Unite por la comida
Algo tan sencillo como el pan en la mesa
Alla es muy dificil pues abunda la pobreza
Nunca hay trabajo y si lo hay es mal pagado
Todo te lo roban
Todo esta cagado
Puto gobierno que nada mejora
Por eso emigran tantas personas
Marihuana y la coca es la moda
Todo se empeora
Es pura joda
Que es lo que pasa, ah, yeah?
Pues nadie hace nada, nadie hace nada
Por esto escribo desde tierras nevadas
Buscando la plata, mi vida cambiada
CHORUS 1 (2X)
VERSE 2
Y ahora me hablan de libre comercio
Que sera mejor y habra trabajo
Como les puedo creer
Si debajo todo lo venden
Y todo es mas caro
Marcha mi pueblo y busca respuestas
Se escuchan voces se escuchan protestas
De nada sirve si al final llega el pago
Nota rebajado el dia del paro
Solo estan los que meten la mano
Los que roban al gallo tapado
Son hijueputas ladrones
Esos politicos señores
Los que mandan en la cochina asamblea
Para que el lunes usted lea
Se robaron a las secretarias
Se robaron la plata de la malaria
CHORUS 1 (2X)
VERSE 3
Si eres mi hermano dame la razon
De donde venimos esta todo cabron
Si eres mi hermano I'll tell you the truth
Estamos aqui for money like you
Si eres mi hermano dame la razon
De donde venimos esta todo cabron
Si eres mi hermano I'll tell you the truth
Estamos aqui for money like you
CHORUS 1 (2X)
CHORUS 2
Puto Gobierno, todo corrupto
Que nada cambia, que nada cambia
El pobre es mas pobre
El rico es mas rico
Que nos hunde, que nos hunde
Puto gobierno, todo corrupto
Que nos acaba, que nos acaba
El pobre es mas pobre
El rico es mas rico
OUTRO
Que todo roba, todo lo roba
Y aqui estamos cabrones
Luchando por nuestros ideales
Luchando por estar mejor
Porque nos tienen cagados
Puto Gobierno
Que si no fuera por esos pinches politicos cabrones
Estariamos mejor, compadre
________________________________________
PUTO GOBIERNO (English Translation)
FUCKING GOVERNMENT
This is what I think...pigs!
CHORUS 1 (2X)
Fucking government, all corrupt
We're not idiots
Don't be unfair
The poor are poorer
The rich are richer
We keep falling on our ass and our face
VERSE 1
I'm just one more, one more on the list
Of the immigrants searching for a new life
For when I'm from there is no other way out
Than to come to the Status for food
Something as simple as bread on the table
There is difficult for poverty abounds
Never any work and if there is, it's not well paid
Everything is stolen
Everything is fucked
Fucking Government doesn't make things better
That's why so many people immigrate
Marijuana and Coke are the fashion
Everything is worse
It's all a joke
What is going on, ah, yeah?
Nobody does anything, nobody does anything
That's why I write from the land of snow
Searching for money, my life will change
CHORUS 1 (2X)
VERSE 2
And now they talk to me about "free trade"
That it'll make it all better, they'll be work
How can I believe them
If they sell out
Everything is so expensive
March my people, look for answers
We hear voices, we hear protests
Nothing happens since when payday comes
Protest day pay is deducted
All who survive are those who dirty their hands
Those who steal from the poor
They're damn thieves
These politicians
The ones who rule in the assembly
Just so Monday you can read
That the secretaries have been kidnapped
They've stolen the money for the malaria cure
CHORUS 1 (2X)
VERSE 3
If you're my brother tell me I'm right
Where we come from, everything is fucked
If you're my brother I'll tell you the truth
We're here for money like you
If you're my brother tell me I'm right
Where we come from, everything is fucked
If you're my brother I'll tell you the truth
We're here for money like you
CHORUS 1 (2X)
CHORUS 2
Fucking government, all corrupt
Nothing changes, nothing changes
The poor are poorer
The rich are richer
We're drowning, we're drowning
Fucking government, all corrupt
That ruins us, that ruins us
The poor are poorer
The rich are richer
OUTRO
They steal all, they steal all
And here we are
Fighting for our ideals
Fighting to be better
Because they've fucked us
Fucking Government
If it weren't for those fucking asshole politicians
We'd be better off, my brother
Get It Done
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, 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:
91
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Get It Done
GET IT DONE
Pledge allegiance to the grimy, I love it, I get it done
Decide to take the hit out on you- no where to run
Once I get that blunt smoke deep up in my lungs Boy
I'm meditatin' on mutilatin' den grab my gunz
I'm feared on these streets, cold killa, quick trigga
I'm never hesitatin', forsaken, the deal sealer
Controllin' my terrain
Stay in da lanes
Put 2 to ya brain
Against da grain
Da realest G in that game
On sight
Son I'll light you up like a pimple
When u cornered creep up on ya
In da mornin'
Then I say goodnight
Catch you slippin' in my danger zone
It's major drama for ya mama
When I send you home
Her child is gone
Chorus
If I come for you, you won't hear a sound
I'll creep upon on you slow
Then I'll lay you down
If ya smart, tell ya homies I don't play around
I'm bad for ya health, Boy don't mess wit me
(I'm Gunnin'!!)
6-2 Chiseled Physique
Lost my daddy when I was 2
Ma couldn't handle me
At 11 O.G. homies had me hold da heat
And I found that I liked bustin'
It's my specialty
On the regular I was buckin' and them chumps was duckin'
I enjoyed puttin' fear in dey eyes and over nothin'
Cause I'm cold like that, I love my gat
I'm a legendary cap peela
Check my stats
Ladies screamin' "What's Happenin?"
When da villain gets to clappin'
Then it's chaos in the streets
Homicides for weeks
Daddy brings that drama
Playa you can wear your body armor
BAD KARMA is my name
You can't escape the pain
If I come for you, you won't hear a sound
I'll creep upon on you slow
Then I'll lay you down
If ya smart, tell ya homies I don't play around
I'm bad for ya health, Boy don't mess wit me
(Keep Runnin')
Hey duke ain't that somethin'
2 weeks ago you was bumpin' ya gums like you was dumpin'
Now half tha blood in ya body's on the street and clumpin'
Ya homies in da back of they 'Lac
They heads is slumpin'
Screamed like some ladies
When da pump was pumpin'
A mercenary 'till hell freeze
It's bad luck when I am on your tail
Your ship will sailed
I've never bailed
No witnesses were left to tell
Surgical with a.45 or.38
Or an AK shell a send u swiftly to your wake
If it's your fate
Caught in tha wrath of a psychopath
333 X 2 – Homey you do the math!
Gangster
Artist(s): Paco
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 33.34% / Francisco Jimenez Garcia (ASCAP) 33.33% / Joel Wachbrit (BMI) 33.33%
Publisher(s):
Calamari Music (BMI) 33.33% / Latino Style Publishing (ASCAP) 33.33% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 33.34%
Category:
Latin
Subcategories:
Cartel Rap, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Latin Hip Hop, Latin Hip Hop Rap, Male Vocal, Mexican, Narco Rap, Rap, Spanish, Urban
Keywords:
Aggressive, Alley, Angry, Arrest, Barrio, Cartel, Chaos, City, Club, Compton, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, East LA, Energy, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Lute, Mean, Mexican, Mexico, Mug Shot, Narco, Ominous, Outrage, Prison, Rage, Rape, Riot, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Spanish Lyrics, Street, Streets, Strip Club, Struggle, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Horns, Keyboard, Percussion, Piano, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
80
Language:
Spanish
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Gangster
GANGSTER
INTRO:
Damas y caballeros,
Ladies and gentlemen
Pongan atención al siguiente comunicado
Pay attention to the following announcement
Damas y caballeros,
Ladies and gentlemen
Pongan atención al siguiente comunicado
Pay attention to the following announcement
Bienvenidos a L.A. donde las drogas y los freeways
Welcome to L.A. where drugs and freeways
Son normales pa' la gente (gangster)
Are normal to everyone (gangster)
Marihuana por aquí marihuana por allá
Marihuana here, marihuana over there
Onda multicultural esta presente (gangster)
Multicultural wave is present (gangster)
Frente al rótulo de Hollywood millones de viajeros
Millions of travelors before the Hollywood sign
Siempre sueňan con la fama (gangster)
Always dreaming of fame (gangster)
Con tu foto, tu página, y "my space" encontrarás
Add your pic, your webpage, your "myspace"
Cual es tu rama, y cuanto ganan (gangster)
You will find your field and how much they make
Si no tienes de que esconderte
If you have nothing to hide from
Y no tienes de que ofenderte
If you have nothing to be offended by
Y la suerte no quiere ni verte
And luck doesn't want to come near you
Y no le temes ni a la muerte
And you ain't afraid of death
Si no tienes de que esconderte
If you have nothing to hide from
Y no tienes de que ofenderte
If you have nothing to be offended by
Y la suerte no quiere ni verte
And luck doesn't want to come near you
Y no le temes ni a la muerte
And you ain't afraid of death
Pon atención a lo que digo (brother)
Pay attention to what I say (brother)
Pistola en mano siempre conmigo
Gun in hand always with me
Yo nunca mato sin motivo (gangster)
I never kill without a reason (gangster)
Uso la ciencia que domina a todo vivo
I use science to dominate the living
Pon atención a lo que digo (brother)
Pay attention to what I say (brother)
Pistola en mano siempre conmigo
Gun in hand always with me
Yo nunca mato sin motivo (gangster)
I never kill without a reason (gangster)
Uso la ciencia que domina a todo vivo
I use science to dominate the living
Bienvenidos a L.A. donde las drogas y los freeways
Welcome to L.A. where drugs and freeways
Son normales pa' la gente (gangster)
Are normal to everyone (gangster)
Marihuana por aquí marihuana por allá
Marihuana here, marihuana over there
Onda multicultural esta presente (gangster)
Multicultural wave is present (gangster)
Frente al rótulo de Hollywood millones de viajeros
Millions of travelers before the Hollywood sign
Siempre sueňan con la fama (gangster)
Always dreaming of fame (gangster)
Con tu foto, tu página, y "my space" encontrarás
Add your pic, your webpage, your "myspace"
Cual es tu rama, y cuanto ganan (gangster)
You will find your field and how much they make
Nunca voa contarles nada...si yo no se, si yo no se
I'll never say anything...that I don't know about
Nunca voa a inventarme nada...para crecer, para crecer
I'll never make anything up...to grow, to grow
Nunca voa decir lo mismo...si ya lo se, si ya lo se
I'll never repeat myself... If I know it, if I know it
Yo te digo lo que he visto y eso lo se y eso lo se
I'll tell you what I've seen... and what I know
El cambiar de país puede resultar traumático en la vida
Moving from your country is traumatic
Muchos vienen, se van con heridas
Many come, and leave with wounds
En los bares, las plazas, las calles los turistas
At the bars, fields, in the streets the tourists
Son los que dominan en esta tierra de artistas
Are who dominate this land of artists
Muchos saben que no hay trabajo para indocumentados
Many know there is no work for immigrants
Y se pudren de luchar por buscar pocos centavos
And they rot fighting for a few coins
Con las deudas hasta el cuello desfilan mis paisanos
With debt to their necks they prance around
Que con el tiempo siendo gángster encuentran lo de humano
As time goes by, as gangsters they become human
Bienvenidos a L.A. donde las drogas y los freeways
Welcome to L.A. where drugs and freeways
Son normales pa' la gente (gangster)
Are normal to everyone (gangster)
Marihuana por aquí marihuana por allá
Marihuana here, marihuana over there
Onda multicultural esta presente (gangster)
Multicultural wave is present (gangster)
Frente al rótulo de Hollywood millones de viajeros
Millions of travelers before the Hollywood sign
Siempre sueňan con la fama (gangster)
Always dreaming of fame (gangster)
Con tu foto, tu página, y "my space" encontrarás
Add your pic, your webpage, your "myspace"
Cual es tu rama, y cuanto ganan (gangster)
You will find your field and how much they make
Nunca voa contarles nada...si yo no se, si yo no se
I'll never say anything...that I don't know about
Nunca voa a inventarme nada...para crecer, para crecer
I'll never make anything up...to grow, to grow
Nunca voa decir lo mismo...si ya lo se, si ya lo se
I'll never repeat myself... If I know it, if I know it
Yo te digo lo que he visto y eso lo se y eso lo se
I'll tell you what I've seen... and what I know
Bienvenidos a L.A. donde las drogas y los freeways
Welcome to L.A. where drugs and freeways
Son normales pa' la gente (gangster)
Are normal to everyone (gangster)
Marihuana por aquí marihuana por allá
Marihuana here, marihuana over there
Onda multicultural esta presente (gangster)
Multicultural wave is present (gangster)
Frente al rótulo de Hollywood millones de viajeros
Millions of travelers before the Hollywood sign
Siempre sueňan con la fama (gangster)
Always dreaming of fame (gangster)
Con tu foto, tu página, y "my space" encontrarás
Add your pic, your webpage, your "myspace"
Cual es tu rama, y cuanto ganan (gangster)
You will find your field and how much they make
Vi varios niños jugando a que mataban
I saw some kids playing killers
Con falsas escopetas a todos amenazaban
With fake rifles they threatened everyone
Quien les dirá que esto no es un juego
Who will tell them it's not a game
Que cuando crezcan seguirán pero con fuego
When they grow up it'll be real fire
Jugar de matar a otro para divertirse
Playing to kill someone for fun
Es matar por dinero cuando no hay de que reírse.
Is to kill for money later on
Me queman las manos por disparar
My hands sting to shoot
Mi sangre sacrifica mis pecados
My blood sacrifies my sins
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
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