Tracks Similar To Soul Of The Streets
Crazy Place
Artist(s): Terrell Burt
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 50% / Terrell Burt (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Back Story, Background, Chill, City, Conscious, Dark, Determined, Diligence, Emotional, Hard Times, Inner Conflict, Laid Back, Life, Mellow, Moody, New York City, Reflective, Restless, Rough, Soulful, Sports, Story, Streets, Struggle, Tough, Warm, Weed, Worried
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano, Strings
BPM:
87
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Crazy Place
Take a breather, float on ether, kick my feet up
Running on E, try to break free, but I freeze up
Apathy stabbing me in the back, attracting opposites
I follow through, but too many fall through on they promises
Astonishing, no incompetence I'm feeling fine
Why's this the final aftermath every single time?
Vanishing, all I wanted was someone to mold me
Lacked the proper guidance, all they ever did was scold me
Never showed me fluorescence or the ropes
On the shore coasting through life so I learned to cope
No boxes, dig in the crates, you can't contain me
Artistic with the vice, you can't frame me
My mind in a crazy place, crazy place
Wanna run the race, run the race
And finish real strong, real strong
Cause I know my fate, yeah I know my fate
You can never ever frame me or box me in
Packaging, know where I'm headed, mindful where I been
No mountains, the valleys have been my best friend
Not afraid of success, my fear's to transcend
Everything I've ever known, yeah my situation
Comfortable but I despise, oh what a temptation
Rise to highest heights, ozone with flyest kites
Not a homeland citizen but I know my rights
Pre-marriage date, acquainted with the pen, know my writes
A fixed visionary, yeah I set my sights
No boxes, dig in the crates, you can't contain me
Artistic with the vice, you can't frame me
Unlimited
Artist(s): CaiNo (feat. Laura Cheadle)
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Marcus Cohen (ASCAP) 50% / Scott Horton (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 50% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 50%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Female Vocal, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Anthem, Bold, Competition, Defiant, Determined, Emotional, Empowerment, Encouragement, Energetic, Epic, Fighting, Inspirational, Intense, Motivational, Never Give Up, Overcoming, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Persistence, Positive, Power, Pride, Rising, Sports, Strength, Swagger, Tough, Triumphant, Uplifting, Victorious
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Piano, Strings, Synths
Year Recorded:
2018
BPM:
85
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Unlimited
UNLIMITED
CHORUS
I feel unlimited
no rules unlimited
and I shine so bright that I might just light it up
I feel unlimited
no rules on limited
gonna grab this world make it mine so fire it up
VERSE 1
Fire up the engines it's about to start
bring the light when I travel to dispel the dark
our existence is hinging on if we can impart
ambition as if resistance got us what we want
we living under limits that are self imposed
then poked at by the media till it's exposed
try to stuff your emotions till you implode
well I'm here to disclose
the power you have enclosed
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Fire up the burners it's about to begin
let the fuel move your internal pistons
until the engines running with intention
you've been down this road before
check the suspension
I know it gets rocky but you're unstoppable like Rocky
you probably been through worse
like taking shots to the body
you obviously kept getting up
legs wobbly and vision foggy
but you kept coming like a zombie
straight out the ground you're taking it now
pressed against the cage ain't nobody taking you down
and through all the trials and tribulations you basically found
that it's all lies and manipulations mistakenly bound
knots tied the stipulations are created were not allowed to abound
when they try to tune us down
I can faintly hear the sound
and that's the only thing I need to keep me wanting more
just remember I'm Limitless at my core
CHORUS
Bright Lights Big City
Artist(s): St. John (feat. L. Young)
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard A Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Black Toast Music (BMI) 55%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Pop, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Against the Odds, Anthem, Bold, Defiant, Determined, Driving, Emotional, Empowerment, Encouragement, Energetic, Epic, Fighting, Inspirational, Intense, Motivation, Motivational, Never Give Up, Overcoming, Overcoming Obstacles, Perseverance, Persevere, Persistence, Positive Attitude, Power, Pride, Protest, Rising, Rising Above, Strength, Strong, Struggle, Swagger, Tough, Triumphant, Unity, Uplifting, Victorious
Instruments:
Bass, Drum Loop, Drums, Electric Guitar, Guitar, Piano, SFX, Solo Drums, Strings, Synths
Year Recorded:
2018
BPM:
84
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Bright Lights Big City
BRIGHT LIGHTS BIG CITY
INTRO
From the rooftops
To the city blocks
We livin proof
That we can't & we won't stop
Let's keep it movin
Show & prove that we already dropped
I'd like to take this opportunity
To thank the whole community
For keepin us together in the same spot
Yo in the dark night
We see the bright lights
& we can rock right
(We keep the game tight)
We represent the element that gave us true sight
CHORUS
Bright lights, big city
It's gonna lift you higher and higher
When the world has got you down
City's gonna lift you higher and higher
VERSE 1
Lights flash blast past do the math
We building up beginning squad
Illuminate the path
Hit the street feel the concrete
Underneath your feet
And we runnin like there's only seconds left
Feel the breath
Let's connect reach out mad respect
I can't believe how far we raised
From Dirty blocks & dark hallways
Opposite of tenements
We livin in the top percent
Of hustlin their dreams
Livin way above our means
Now we formulate the team
Hit em like a lazer beam
Infinite abilities
Flowin like Pheidippides
Outside of parentheses
Genius in facilities
Our options are infinity
Founded independently
The path is undertaken
By the underestimated
Can you feel it yeah we made it
To the top we elevated
We don't stop & we created
In a new stream a new team
Shine like the ever present presence
Of the spotlight
(The light beams)
CHORUS
VERSE 2
Smash perception ain't no question
You're the best of them
I hope that the rest of them
Gettin all this oxygen (its medicine)
A catalyst of power people
Comin from the underground
Many styles all the citizens
From all around the planet ascending in a way that you can never take for granted
(It's a piece of pace a past of place)
I pass the praise the pastor makes
The timing of the time it takes
To raise up all the youth
That's the proof of the positivity & true humility
Passed on these progressions
In the cyphers & the sessions
True knowledge comes from everyone
& everything surrounding
We pounding up the bricks
& in our footsteps is evidence of providence
The sky scrapes takes a little building at a time
Now you over-stand the rhyme
We can all together climb
You get yours & I get mine
Never been a better time
To come together (each of us can teach one)
Never been a better time
I think I see the sign
CHORUS
OUTRO
Keep your head raised
As your mind stays
High above the fray
When you need to get up & stay up
Just nod your head & meditate
On this verbal word play
It's like every single day
We don't stop
We rock hip hop
On every single block
Let's get together now & raise it to the top
Recognize the Real
Artist(s): Owen Chaim
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1980s, 1990s, G Funk, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, Bangin', City, Compton, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, OG, Oppression, Past, Rough, Story, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial, West Coast
Instruments:
Bass, Clavinet, Drums, Electric Guitar
BPM:
91
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Recognize the Real
Recognize the Real
VERSE 1
I'm like, straight up and down, that's six o'clock
I got, shooters on deck, with the pistol cocked
putting busters in check, when I set up shop
chicks giving up the neck for the game I chop
stack paper and bread, leave the crumbs for bums
cash flow as natural as the breath in my lungs
get it how I live it, ain't giving up none
got a platoon of goons that gotta feed they sons
jump in a foreign whip, put the pedal to the
floor and dip, fast lane with the cash and chips
all in, put your bet on the dealer
gets no realer, put a slug in a squealer
CHORUS
recognize it's the real OG
calling shots but I keep it low key
aks around thugs about know me
they put respect on the name, if you a player of the game
VERSE 2
you know the pedigree, we don't bark, we spark
you don't want that smoke, when the hood go dark
you dont' wanna see how it end, so better not start
expose you pumping fruit punch in your heart
I got ice cold veins for the cold cash
when the block's hot, product goes fast
catch me slipping without the strap no chance
I gotta stay alive to uplift the lower class
speaking for the streets, where the snakes play for keeps
and the slippery slope is steep
my word is bond, cuz life is cheap
watch your back cuz that knife goes deep, don't sleep
Dedicate
Artist(s): CaiNo
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Marcus Cohen (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, R&B, Rap
Keywords:
Ambition, Aspiration, Back Story, Changes, City, Confidence, Death, Dedicated, Destiny, Dreams, Fame, Family, Fate, Father, Heart Felt, Heartwarming, Introspective, Life, Mother, Motivation, Moving, New Life, Powerful, Reflective, Rising, Risk, Sentimental, Story, Striving, Struggle, Taking A Chance, Toughtful, Uplifting, Victory
Instruments:
808 Kick, Bass, Drums, Strings, Synths
Year Recorded:
2018
BPM:
152
Key:
Dm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Dedicate
Chorus:
You don't have to be afraid I see the signs
I know that everything's gonna be all right and I take a breath and sigh knowing that you're still here by my side
can't wait to see you on the other side
don't ever take for granted those That have been with you from the gate
don't tempt fate you never know when it may be too late
for everybody with your fam join hands and relate
this is a song for yall that I have chosen to dedicate
V1:
Mommy I love you
and that means I place no one above you
just a stare from you's enough to bring me up and wanna run to you
I wouldn't be an image of the man I am today without your lessons my pages would be blank with nothing to say
remember days with us dancing my feet on top of yours
me giving you attitudes over the simplest chores
and we still be battling heads on a regular daily basis
but Mom i wouldn't be nothing if not for your love and patience
and though we made mistakes we were there to comfort each other
you gave me a little brother I've never thanked you enough
for everything that you've done for the both of us mom you're like a goddess
together so many lives yet this time was the hardest
souls intertwined and that's why we'll never be parted
it seems that we've approached the end we found we've only started God is smiling
as sure as I know that I've got to rhyme
I'm just as sure that my mom is going to speak to the world and shine
Chorus:
V2:
Daddy we miss you
I wish that death was never an issue
and I know that given the chance your daughter would love to kiss you
I know she'd give her life just for a moment to see
if you're proud of the woman that she's become and all that she'll be
I vow to you on my knees that I'll love and protect your seed
with every fiber of my being bask in the glory of the Queen
forced to mature before the age of 18 vision been tainted by the hatred she seen since she been conceived
raised alongside murderers drug dealers and hoes
never knowing you're alone people breaking into your home
stealing your Disney videos to sell in the streets what's left for a little girl but keep on praying for peace
I'm trying Edwin but sometimes this shit is unsettling
I be feeling like I wanna be with you chillin in heaven
but I know I'm not done emptying lessons onto these cats
I know that's you behind me with your breath on my back I feel it
Chorus:
What I Been Through
Artist(s): Terrell Burt
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 50% / Terrell Burt (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, Boom Bap, Chill, City, Club, Conscious, Dark, Determined, Diligence, Emotional, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, History, Inner Conflict, Late Night, Liquor, Lonely, Moving Forward, Oppression, Past, Reflective, Rising, Rough, Soulful, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano
BPM:
91
Key:
Bm
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
What I Been Through
They want a little bit but I'm too complex
The haunt's a riddled skit inside of my mindset
The irony quite inspiring with closed lips
But I'm way too passionate just to digress
Playing games way back to days passed like recess
Taking aim to stray crafts with the finesse
He renewed my interior, switched the ambiance
Not always black and white, elevate some nuance
They wanna reduce my value low like a coupon
Gets passed down for the duration like a baton
Frustrated when I can't figure out what you on
Invading buds and aux cords with this new song
You try to pin point, way too predictable
Faultfinders and sideliners are too critical
No missteps, even redundance is pivotal
Only a sample of bits and pieces is what I'm giving you
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Many angles to dissect, they ain't gotta clue
Cognizant of your prominence, it won't undersell
Promising but the dominance takes a farewell
Providing the whole but clueless to your worth
Lowtide so they can't catch the wave on your stellar surf
I like the boom bap followed by an asterisk
I like the trap melodics mixed with the ratchetness
I like the summer season minus the humidity
I'm free to live but not a slave to my liberty
Get a portion depending on the day of the week
Confidence crossed with inheritance for the low and meek
First glance may not appear what it seems
Windows to your soul only a scrap of ample dreams
You try to pin point, way too predictable
Faultfinders and sideliners are too critical
No missteps, even redundance is pivotal
Only a sample of bits and pieces is what I'm giving you
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Many angles to dissect, they ain't gotta clue
You can't pick up what you don't understand
Too complex to leave bits and pieces upper hand
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
Giving you a little bit of what I been through
You can't pick up what you don't understand
Too complex to leave bits and pieces upper hand
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!!
Trials And Torments
Artist(s): Terrell Burt
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Owen Chaim (SOCAN) 50% / Terrell Burt (BMI) 50%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
1990s, G Funk, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Adversity, Aggressive, City, Club, Compton, Conscious, Dark, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Hard Times, History, Inner Conflict, Late Night, Liquor, Moving Forward, Oppression, Past, Reflective, Rising, Rough, Storyteller, Street, Struggle, Tough, Trial, West Coast
Instruments:
Analog Synth, Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Electric Piano
BPM:
90
Key:
F
Tempo:
Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Trials And Torments
A liasion was apart of my biography
No persuasion fortunate not to begin from pervasion
Calculation high in this aristocracy
Clownish emcees got me feeling like a comedy
Repeated knee slapping 'til I can't take it
All the melanin in my skin I'm feeling like I can't make it
I got dreams and I'm feenin' for more
Until I get followed by the clerk around the liquor store
Afraid to cop a scratch off
Cause that could be my last straw
Waiting to put a bullet through my black jaw
I'd rather grab a book than a four fifth
The antagonists and conflicts never once absent
Interceptions that I feel are habitual
Join the dearly departed or will I touch residuals?
Neighborhood's popping, my mental is toxic
All the assurance remains chronologic
Trials and torments
The OG's kept me straight to avoid the precint
Trials and torments
The nickel and dimin' never made sense
Trials and torments
Breaking my back just to make rent
Trials and torments
What more can I give?
Trials and torments
I'm just trying to live
Great measures that cannot be exactly spelled
Pressure to the mythical odds worthless to prevail
Gravity of essence for a young black male
Witnessing smiles, foreseeing catastrophic trails
Changing to a statistic from a hollow stray
Six feet presentable since they fear my DNA
But I will rise higher in my baggy attire
Skydive through the fire til they hail me as sire
Extreme devotion is a part of the blame
Persevering sworn enemies that is a part of my frame
Ready and willing with a lot of energy
Defying to turn the tide of all the latter centuries
Trials and torments
Trials and torments
Trials and torments
What more can I give?
Trials and torments
I'm just trying to live
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
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
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
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!
Being A Playa
Artist(s): G-$tack
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Being A Playa
Being A Playa
Intro
I'm the playa of all playas
Wherever I am
Da ladies know what's up
U haters do to
So I'm a keep doin what I do
And Doing who I do
It's P Unit G
Chorus
BEIN' A PLAYA IS A WAY OF LIFE
UP ON TOP (&) OUT ALL NIGHT
SHAWTY WANT A TASTE OF A REAL G
COME ON DOWN & BE A PLAYA WIT ME
1st Verse
I got pros in every area code
WIDE LOAD
P.I.M.P.
I keep 'em out of they clothes
Love or Hate it
I'm Don Dada
Pick her up... "look ma.. you talk a lotta"
Slow Down, I know I speak greasy
U know how us G's be
Whether I'm in da Benz or da coupe
Girl I stay freezy
On top of my game
You know the name
It's P unit all day mayne
I'm rippin through frames
All flavors
Chocolate, Almonds, Vanilla Swirls
When I'm in da club I'm chased by all the girls
Whether they wear straight hair or they rockin' curls
Wit' dis Magic Stick
The ladies love to lick like Shirl
Well I met her just last week outside ya boutique
Pulled up there was a group of dames she took a peek
I saw it in her eyes
And wit' them caramel thighs
I had to give it to her
Now don't act surprised
(I'm a playa baby you know me!!)
Repeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Let me tell all of you wanna be playas a little somethin'
If you really like them big fat rumps for pumpin'
It's a breeze and you can keep ya cheese
Playa peep the steez!!
I stay clean, I'm lean, carry stacks of green
And I keep a deeper bench than any NBA team
Some like tha bouncin'
Others like it on they back
They fiend for the monster
I like to call him Shaq
Takes up a lot of space
Unstoppable in the lane
If the game gets tight
He can cause you pain
Big Popi, the main ingredient
Lubricates the fold
Even though my rims is gold
And my wrists stay cold
They gets no dough
But they like to step in the Rolls
Take of they G strings
Then I curl up they toes
Some had visions of a pay day
Others just like to lay me
They caught up in the fortune and fame
So I'm a play 'em mayne!!
Outro
Being a playa is a way of life
I can't help it
They just keep coming at me
Constantly
They know who we be
I give 'em a little taste of the wild side
I'll pop the champagne wit 'em
Show 'em a little bit of the good life
But really they just like to keep this thang up in 'em
And I oblige
You know... I'm Here to Serve (w/ laughter)
It's a hard life
But somebody's gotta do it
P.P.P.P. P UNIT!!!!
Army Of One
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, Army, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Clown Dancing, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Krump, Krump Dancing, Krumping, 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:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Army Of One
ARMY OF ONE
Chorus:
I'm an Army of One
I don't trust nothin' but the end of my gun
When I'm in da hood, boy ya better run
Or ya gonna hafta answer to an Army of One
Ya better stand down or you'll be six feet under
Ya think ya own the streets well you ain't seen this mutha
I don't need no G to help me get it done
Cuz I'm an Army of One, yeah I'm an Army of One
Look at my grill
Betta grab ya shield
Or kryptonite tonight
Cuz I'm gonna drill
As soon as I see you
I'm a aim for ya dome
Precisely, boy I'm nice – Please!
I'm sqeezin' my chrome
Bl....att just like that
You in the parking lot of the club writhin' on ya back
And I ain't worried about a case
If they can't see ya face
And ya hands is missin'
After they deep sea fish ya!
Dey like to Rah Rah wit dat Blah Blah
Boy you'll mess around I'll have you screamin for ya Mama
We can pop tha trunk
If you wanna get crunk
Ya cover's blown crony
Dog, I know you a punk
I do my dirt on my own
I'm a rider solo playa- decide I'm sendin' you home
I bang on site
And when the time is right
You'll see me comin' up ya block
You in the danger zone tonight
Repeat Chorus
I got mo gunz
Chronic smoke in my lungs
I want you I won't stop until the task is done
We can tear the club up so what you got a crew
I'll take you sissies out when I pull these duel
Glock.45's as ya runnin' ya lips
It becomes real clear
When I unzip these clips
Give me all ya loot
Give me ya shoes
What u lookin' at sucka
Fool, run ya jewels
What happed to all that barkin' man
Y'all was laughin'
Runnin' round the club it was kinda bafflin'
Cause you know how I do my thing
Them tramps in ya ear had you gassed
So much drama I'll bring
Keep my head on a swivel
Smoke some weed- a little 'gnac
In da middle of the night
The last sound you heard was CRACK!!
No prints
No murder weapon
Roll one, Relax
A day in the life of a real G wearin' all black!
Repeat Chorus
Get caught up in ya hype
Playa please believe
When tha cutlass bends the corner
Dog, I'm aimed to squeeze
Automatic filled ya attic
Now you anesthes'd
Did you think when you started the static
You'd end up RIP'd
Now they pourin' out the liquor
Sad remembrances
Family devastated
Shoulda checked yo sentences
You don't wanna rumble homey
All bravados crumble homey
When you act like you don't know me
I'm a leave ya family lonely!
Repeat Chorus
A Date With Angels
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
90
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
A Date With Angels
A DATE WITH ANGELS
Time is running out, I feel it slippin' away
time is running out, I see it in my dreams every night
I can't get away from it
Chorus
It's getting' hard to stay alive
The streets are full of blood tonight
An' everything is down to fate
You can't go back 'cos it's too late
Now brother's gone and mama's cryin'
Seems like everybody's dyin'
I know they're comin' for me
But I'm not ready – for a date with angels
A date with angels – a date with angels
Verse 1
I see death around the corner
I can't delete it
The Vision repeats over and over
There's no reprieve.. Click!!
Another round in the chamber...OOOOh!
Everytime I make a move
I feel my burning fuse
See the homey's over there creepin'?
The last two nights they been trying to catch a brother sleepin'
Didn't see 'em?
Na, I ain't tripping
That's why no matter where I go I keep the clip in
With the safety off
They tryin' to pick me off
They say I'm off
But I ain't never been soft
The game 'a make you go crazy
The hood's full 'a wannabe gangstas
Or they tryna be Jay Z
I only did it cause it pays me
Had an exit plan
But now I can't see SQUEEZE!
Cause I'm tired of runnin'
Dog I know it's comin'
I see death around the corner!
Repeat Chorus
She was 13 and I was 22
Used to holla at her when she went to school
She was enthralled with the streetlife
As a G I kept my knot right
Kept the product for them pipes
Told youngin' "Get ya mind right shortie. Betta stay out these streets!"
"Cause messin' wit' 'da street life
It'll get you caught up
Hunger combined with jealousy It'll get you buck Bucked!
Like you never was
You a Pup!
There's Killas out here and they don't give a What!!
She didn't listen man she did her thang
Two weeks ago they found her and her Thuggy slain!
Repeat Chorus
Down With Oh Nine Tees
Artist(s): Matt Vander Boegh
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Matthew C. Vander Boegh (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Comedy, Drama, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Reality TV Moods & Emotions, Urban
Keywords:
Attitude, Back Alley, Back Story, Background, Cars, City, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Cruising, Drama, Fame, Flashback, Ghetto, Gossip, Mean, Plotting, Prankster, Retro, Shenanigans, Sneaking, Sneaky, Sports, Streets, Suspense, Suspicious, Tasking, Tension, Throwback, Tough, Transit, Transition, Transitional, Trouble, Walking
Instruments:
Bass, Percussion, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
90
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
War Of Worlds
Artist(s): Rouvaun Roman
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Rouvaun Gus Roman (ASCAP) 100%
Publisher(s):
Burnt Toast Music (ASCAP) 100%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Rap, Reality TV
Keywords:
Attitude, Back Alley, Back Story, Cars, Cash, City, Conflict, Confrontation, Crime, Cruising, Dark, Flashback, Gang, Ghetto, Gritty, Impending, Mean, Money, Moody, Mug Shot, Ominous, Streets, Struggle, Suspense, Tension, Tough, Violence
Instruments:
Bass, Synths
Track Styles:
Production
BPM:
80
Key:
Am
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Willing To Die
Artist(s): St. John
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45% / Richard Trapp (BMI) 10%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Alchemetic Music (BMI) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, Chill, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Laid Back, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
A♯m/B♭m
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Willing To Die
WILLING TO DIE
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
I been dying to try see this look in my eye
First lesson in the street can't compete with me
Lookin' hard little gangsta making me look over my shoulder
Bumpin' a range rover with the bulletproof glass
Had to get that hook up some things in my past
Bound to catch up to me man I might not last
Makin suckas bleed lean out the window and blast
Don't try to sneak up man I think too fast
I hope they come undercover man I'll say self defense
Looking at my life I can't claim innocence
It came and it went much money been spent
Many wigs been bent back and twisted with the lethal
Times up game over ain't no sequel
Ain't no such thing as evil it's do or die
Gangsta hustler a piece of the pie
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Ever since I was a shorty on the corner drinking 40's
Clockin mathematics movin weight like an addict
Had my boys posted up stoop one and two
If some chickens walk by scoop two or one
Take out the back and then show em my gun
Ice around my neck make you blind from the sun
What kind a high you need? I'll let you try some son
So many enemies anyone could be one
Come and try if you wanna die
I'll make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside don't you see I'm dead right
See the one that make the lead fly down at midnight
Sneakin' up on suckas if you ain't got the cash
Say something son beat that ass with a flashlight
Run sucka run I'm the one with ammunition
Dumb sucka dumb you got the wrong intuition
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
Come on and try
If you wanna die
Make you wonder why
I ride if I wanna ride
Kill you by the bedside
Don't you see I'm dead right
I'm the one that make the lead fly
Down at midnight
For the brothers at my side I'd be willin' to die
Getting high all the time I'd be willin' to die
We keep riding the streets me and my posse in crime
For what's left of my life I'd be willin' to die
This Is War
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Ominous, Prison, Radio, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
78
Key:
Fm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
This Is War
This Is War
Chorus
This is war - Better watch your back, sucker
It's the end of the world as you know it
This is war - It's gonna be a bad mutha
It's Armageddon, boy, we gonna show ya
This is war - This is war
Intro Break
This is War!!... You should'a never let it come to this!!
1st Verse
You'll never catch me sleepin'
A sawed-off when I'm creepin'
Heartbreakin' to ya mama when it sink in
Because 'a all ya barkin'
And the major drama you started
Her favorite baby boy is soon her dearly departed
You bustas know we run these streets
In da pen a 1000 men wit evil grins we even drop da police
Now you suckas messed around and took food off my kids table
So you've made me resurrect an old fable
I'm tha Big BAD WOLF!!
And I have to bring your house down
I command a crew of killas
We don't play around
We pack mo' gats and tear drop tats
Serve and collectin' stacks
Exterminatin you rats
Don't Trip..... We keep an arsenal for our foes
......Spittin' mini missles through car doors in droves
Couldn't a made a worse mistake when you messed with me
It's all good for ya hood it's a CATASTROPHE!!!
Repeat Chorus
2nd Intro Break
You could a never imagined The destruction and chaos I'm a bring!!!
2nd Verse
You never contemplated what you were in for
Sent Juli, Pac, and BETA
Blew up ya corner store
Molotoved ya favorite restaurant and peppered ya car
Snatched ya baby's mama
Sent her earlobe back in a jar
I had to get ya cousins and ya brotha up in da joint
My soldiers sharpened their shanks dat night
And gave 'em the point
Cut 'em up durin' a riot
Wit nowhere to go
Homey you know the game
You reap what you sow
Now ya body guards is missin'
Ya major shipments missin'
All ya streets is burnin'
PayBACK and now you're wishin'
Dat you'd just played ya position
Lurkin' behind white teeth
Wanted to take my seat
But can you take this heat?
Now all ya people's duckin'
When dese AK rounds is lickin'
Ya top soldier's chicken
and ya corner boys is strippin'
We bring hard knocks
We gon' bend you blocks
'Til u meet my 2 gats cocked
Boy this war won't stop!!!
Repeat Chorus
Statement
Your world as you know it has come to an end
It don't matter how long it takes
I'm gonna destroy everything you care about
Everything you've built
Everything thing you thought you owned... IS MINE!!
There's nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide!!
This Is A Raid
Artist(s): G-$tack
Label: Black Toast Records
Similar Tracks
Writer(s):
Bob Mair (BMI) 45% / Don Reynolds (ASCAP) 10% / Nick Vincent (BMI) 45%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 45% / Tony Vose Music (BMI) 45% / Guerilla Funk Family Musicworx (ASCAP) 10%
Category:
Urban
Subcategories:
Hip Hop, Instrumental, Male Vocal, Rap
Keywords:
Aggressive, Angels, Arrest, Back Alley, Bar, Barrio, Bullet, City, Compton, Cop Show, Cops, Crime, Criminal, Dance, Dark, Death, Downtown, Drive By, Drugs, Dying, East LA, Gang, Gangsta, Ghetto, Gritty, Guns, Jail, Killers, Mean, Mug Shot, Murder, NYC, New York, Night Club, Old School, Ominous, Party, Prison, Radio, Raid, Scary, Shooting, South Central, Street, Streets, Struggle, Territorial, Thug, Tough, Violence, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Guitar, Horns, Strings, Synthesizer
BPM:
92
Key:
Gm
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
This Is A Raid
This is a Raid
Chorus
This is a raid - git your hands up
Just stay in your place an' keep your mouth shut
This is a raid - git your hands up
Better stay in your place an' keep your mouth shut
Everybody freeze - everybody freeze
1st Verse
While you was rollin' flashy out wit' ya crew
While yaw was sellin' bricks I was watchin' you
You made a name
But you know the game
You sellin' in my hood
I gotta get ya mayne!!
Look, I'm a G for real
I own cops, crack shops, plenty of steel
I can't let you ride up in my hood
And sell major rocks like its all good (pause)
I've been settin' this trap for months
Make it difficult we'll have to clap
For once,
Do what's in ya best interests dude
If ya make a wrong move homeboy ya throughRepeat Chorus
2nd Verse
Young G you know how these streets be
Homicides, back knives, arm robberies
Take it like a man
Son you chose this life
I did it cause I can
You was livin' trife
You think cause you was out here mini-ballin'
Than you could avoid the wrath of me
Boy quit ya stallin'
Give me all dem bricks
Give me all ya chips
We takin' all ya wips
And we'll be back if you get loose lips
Hurry up, oh ya boy's bein' lazy
He had to try me now his eyes is all glazed see
I love my pump
I'm quick to dump
Better keeps ya hands up
We some riders chump!!
Repeat Chorus
Vamp
Put ya hands up
We grindin'
No whinin'
We ridin'
Ya getting' stuck up
Stop cryin'
Or ya dyin'
No lyin'
Repeat Vamp 2x
Repeat Chorus
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
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
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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