Aftermath (explicit)

Artist: rbxdead!

Intro
(blunt time-pull out your philly)ha ha,mighty aftermath
(sip a glass of 'gnac,reload your nine milli)
Whose soul ever contest,dead!
In me ear dre.you hear me now?dead!
(blunt time-pull out your philly)
(sip a glass of 'gnac,reload your nine milli)

Thought they were moving in and now they wanna cut us wrong
Room for moving in,but that was on-ly mine
They will shake the hand,never really seen and only heard
They will shake the hand,he is only to heard l-oo-oo-ng
Knick-knack,paddy wack give a dog a bone
Long beach city i wreck is my zone
I be the solo rollo which means i rule alone
You droop first blood,mother thought you was the lone
Fool now break for ya two
It's called the ol'rambo,catch ambush
I wish you wouldn't moosh like ya wanna come push
I'll dump ya and leave ya stankin in the forest you gump
Long beach city-firmly represented
Narrator x is representor
Lyrical the kick make me ya mentor
Freeze mcs,don't ent-or
I'll take like anne arden's new chips in wint-or
Or since i'm sun i'll melt the metaphor
The meatphors are meltin,style is beltin
I heard a dog yelpin but no helpin

Chorus
Blunt time-pull out your philly
Sip a glass of 'gnac,reload your nine milli
Dancin,puffin,sippin or set trippin
Dimes keep on flippin flippin
Repeat

Dre's bad beats they rat-tat-tat-tat
X flex lyric they can't come back
Fact:el-elevant,elegant and eloquent no shit
I boots hits,throw tantrums like ella fitz
Nah,the member x but you'll remember x indeedy
Now remember don't contest the (?frex?)
Got you in spot like lindscrafter but you try to diss
I burn you like backdrafter
After that you'll get nothing from me but laughter
Similar to this,ha what's the repertoire-kick deadly wit lyrics
Shot your punk ass like elec now it's

Chorus

Mighty aftermath!
Once again.can't hold us back
Refuse,refuse(dead!)you lose(dead!).dead!(indeed)
Attempts wiil be futile,it's way to brutal
Hear me now narrator-to-the-x,tellin anyone who contest
The mighty aftermath posse(who?who?)dead!
(murder!)exclamation point!
(iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii)
(blunt time)ha
(blunt tiiiime)mighty aftermath to the 9-7
(sip a glass of 'gnac my friend,dont'cah friend)
(roowl,iiiiiiii don't wanna fight no more,no no,oooh)
(blunt time,blunt time,blunt blunt,yep!)

Fame, i'm the man that takes things over
Fame makes me loose, hard to swallow
Fame puts me there where things are hollow
Fame

Fame
It's not your brain, it's just the flame
The bitch is gonna get your ends
Slain!

(you know i need the money, i will get the money
Cos i need the cash, hey c'mon gotta get it)
(you know i need the money, i will get the money
Cos i need the cash, hey c'mon gotta get it)

Chorus: rc

Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, take it now there's no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you'll have to borrow
Fame

Fame
Nine is fine, it plays for time
I'ma lemme hit you from be-hind
Fame, fame

Fame
A bullet for me, i bust it for you
I love it when you grab my gun
Fame
Fame, what's your name? what's your name? what's your name?
Say my name? say my name? say my name?

[king tee]

The world's famous, rugged with the superstar persona
Rough designer, the chubby alcoholic rhymer
Big timer, i'm known in places i haven't even been
Executed styles behind men
Oh god, i preach that old hudd city gospel
My look's hostile, hittin remy from the bottle
The fame is like i'm possessed wit game
And everywhere i go, hos screamin my name
But i'm rollin, not that my bald head's swollen
I'm towin, ya fixed up, they'd rather see ya broken
I'm scopin often where the spotlights shine
Me and my crew drinkin tryin ta have a good time
But folks watchin, wearin khakis or versace
They try to mack me, caught up in the papparazzi
I'ma look what the hogg had become
A top notch nigga with the fame game

Outro: rc

Is it any wonder, i'll reject ya first
Fame fame fame fame
Is it any wonder, your heart's too cold to fool
Fame fame fame fame

Artist: dr. dre f/ nowl(all right, is everybody ready *yeah!*)
(alright now, here we go)

Nationowl divides this bomb to blow
Adios serials worldwide
Once inside ya ride, usin the mic like a screwdriver
To break down the speed
While labels were sound asleep, nowl peeped and creeped
And stole the ground beneath they feet
Far from the bail, still makin my sales
Movin tapes like weight, we's hip-hop cartel
Takin over, no doubt
Like thongs, they ass out but win amounts with the doctor
Dre, all day cash his cheques
Like play, i hittin you in the head like strays (buu-yu-kow!)
Nationowl's defence covers my ass
And team o' outcast niggas who're quick to blast
Our beat's on hit, keep the peace on
Mc's couldn't find my path (where you at niggas?)

Chorus:

Pledge a legiance to my team
Let's scheme, nigga, we gots ta get cream
Cos worldwide shit's outta control
Why you can't get down with nationowl
Young and old, my niggas who's on parole
Why you can't get down with nationowl
Bitches who own, my niggas whose heart is cold
Why you can't get down with nationowl

Nationowl's anthem, got'cha soul on lock
Still fully loaded, cocked the handgun
Composed like the phantom
While the face of earth gets ugly, we ever lovely
Bitches who never duck me, "nowl loved me"
In thinkin i must spend dough til i'm dizzy
Assholes around like a frisby
And for satisfaction chew an mc like wrigley
History's about to be made, i met'cha in a way
Tryin ya hardest to delay
My flight batterin, keep the world ringin like *?sadaran?*
Lyrics bone shatterin
Pretenders wantin to be cinder-rella
What? that shoe you tryin ta wears, not fittin
Now we're strippin niggas like a chippendale
I'm rippin hell, burnin the devil and inhale

Chorus

In the last days, which side will you be on?
Nationowl's on the side that i beat on
I demand put me on
From the door i use mc's to wipe my feet on
My shit be bumpin like in-grown hair
For twenty-six years trained in ghetto warfare
Nigga, i see more green than st. patrick
Pro actors, game of life with no practice
Controllin craps like i had a remote
It's a rule, now go enter ya tomb
No joke, much over i scold
It's some game for all who's tryin ta split ya coats
Best believe that these are our last years
Prepare or get done from the rear
As we move there, where? the final frontier
United we stand, divided we don't have a prayer

Chorus

Are you wit me east coast?
Are you wit me west coast?
Are you wit me?
Are you wit me?
Are you wit me west coast?
Are you wit me east coast?
Are you wit me?
Are you wit me?

Artist: dr. dre f/ mel-man


Intro:

Yes yes y'all, ooh funk....
Yes yes y'all, to the beat y'all
From the ol schizzy with the yes yizzy y'all
Ooh in come funk
Yes yes y'all, to the beat y'all
From the ol schizzy it's the yes yizzy y'all
Ooh notes come wrong

Verse 1:

Dre is chillin, ruff is chillin
What more can i say? (let's make a million)
M-e-l-man, niggas call me most
I be rockin on the east and the west coast
Your mail go back like emmitt smith's hairline
With jordache devils and calvin kleins
This shit be on my mind like o'donnells interceptions
How would i look with mike's complexion
Eat me, freak me, take your hand and leave me
All i wanna say is "i don't really give a fuck"
Cos most he be mega
Copped the play station but still play the sega
And in the pj's i dj and blow amps
Bad as *?shrimp stampy?* with the food stamps
Huh, i'm not a stranger to danger
On the streets i be known as the jaw rearranger
Heavy with the metal, mel-man rule
White boys say it now "cool, cool, cool!!!"
I bring the fizzy that's the obvious
I got a grip but the only clip i load be the floppy disk
In the sp or the mv, see three g
Ho's see me comin in 3-d
I spread lizzy with ten mates
Hit the skins and i break out like an inmate
Hey yo, that's how it is and that's how i want it
This is my world and i'm shittin on it

Chorus:

(on the world) shittin on it
(on the world) shittin on the world
(here me, yeah, shittin on the world)
*repeat*

Verse 2:

I warm it up like humidity
Mel, okay i'm here til infinity
My shit be outta...space with the ewok
This is my planet but i never wear the reebok
When we rock to the beat of accapella
Most reigns supreme, niggas grab your umbrellas
It's time to bounce so where the player, mate?
Jealous mc's still drinkin on that "hator"rade
Bitches flirtin with the giggles and chuckles
You'll never get the jezzy bare, knuckle
Cos i get a tingle in the jimmy after three days in it
Hold up! back to the clinic
Uhh, aah, poked your bitch in the eye
Then i step like omega's hifi (awroof!)
I walk the earth like moses
Any mackadocious, i grew up with no chips
Shows i turn out
I got dough but still call my hos on my burnout
But can't phone long distance
I'm a rich nigga still gettin public assistance
Rockin shit on a task cam
Got mc's talkin 'bout "i love you, man"
But you can't get my last bud
Or my last dove outta beats we be makin
Dre and m-e-l got the whole earth quakin
That's how it is and that's how i want it
This is my world and i'm shittin on it

Chorus x3

Outro: (over chorus)

Yes yes y'all, ooh funk...
Yes yes y'all, to the beat y'all
From the ol schizzy with the yes yizzy y'all
Ooh in come funk
Yes yes y'all, to the beat y'all
Every three days and the el change ???
Ooh, most come funk

Artist: group therapy (b-real, krs-one, nas, rbx)
East coast *killer*, west coast *killer* (repeat 8x)

Verse one: rbx

While childish mc's battle over coastal fronts
I come with no fronts and smash in monkey fronts
If you want to be evil like knieval then jump
I guarantee your punk ass catch the speed lump
The tactics, extract, morbid thoughts from the mental
Custom designed, for instrumental
Yes indeedy, lyrical graffiti
And this one's a burner, baby
Truck, like toyata driven
True and livin drivin with the gat
Uhh, pop the clutch, let the cold crush rush
Then i flush wack material
That's if i don't mash them all to mush
Hush, let me burst, dare i gush
Cock-diezel cuts
Lyrical arsenal equivalent to arsenic

East coast *killer*, west coast *killer* (repeat 4x)

Verse two: krs-one

Yo, why do they make me wanna ruin they career?
Before i bust your shit let's get one thing clear
Don't provoke kris no joke this
I don't ride no rapper's nutsac yo i stay focused
Beefin without skills seekin will only weaken
The artist speakin over beats and, you be cheatin
Cacaphony of small talent rappers, claimin a coast
Over instrumentals, ain't got no real street credentials
Here come the philosopher hip-hopppin ya correctly
Ignorant ass mc's continue to tempt me
Lyrics be empty like alcatraz cellblock
Too many mc's rappin causin lyrical gridlock
Lyrical syllables interlock in my voicebox
Yet i'm still unknown like the x on sadat
Just your typical, non-topical
Flex the optical illusion weak metaphoric style you be usin
I check one-two's and who's in the house
Like shit your lyrics ooze out ya mouth
Whattyou think this is? krs-one from the bronx kid!

East coast *killer*, west coast *killer* (repeat 8x)

Welcome to the new world order
You are now under martial law
All constituional rights have been suspended

Verse three: b-real

The most scandalous, cut the bad apple, we can handle this
Coast trippin goin on through out the business
East coast west coast anybody killer!
I don't give a fuck where you from i'ma killa hill-er
I got crews on both sides together
Deeper than the ocean and down for whatever
Fool i can roll through any block
From central to westland avenue, without my glock
But some niggaz can't survive on both sides
So they try and break off, eliminate ties
Fools got to get wise, better realize
True, enemy lies killin in the highrise
Office, analyzing the song
Look at them red niggaz, don't even get along
Kill that noise, four niggaz bringin the skill
Mad caps get peeled if you oppose the hill

Yeah that's right fool, you know who, the mighty group therapy
The mighty mighty aftermath brigade, letting all you sound boys know
You're not ready to rumble or test this
Kill that noise!

East coast *killer*, west coast *killer (repeat 8x)

Verse four: nas escobar

Now when i bomb like sadaam, the world feels the wrath of khan
Desert storm in this modern day babylon
I be the twelve disciples strap arms
All black on running your spot hit the safe and i'm gone
Like a thief wrong, i keep the long 38 warm
Silent and calm, and blackout when the beef is on
Focus on your rap holsters, notice
I'm evil like the exorcist to the locusts
Ferocious thoughts, are mergin at night
Like jehovah towards the virgin in white
I'm wrapped in a turban for spite
Like a israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow's up
When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands up
It's a holdup, frontin like you down for the real
To make a meal, but when plan fold, nigga you squeal
Like heavy heel, but what's the fuckin deal?

East coast *killer* west coast *killer* (repeat 16x)

Artist: dr. dre f/ where


Intro/chorus:

As the world keeps turning, chronic keeps burning
(this ain't no) street sermon, these niggas are determined
*repeat*

Verse 1:where

I flow like cd's in the deck
Moosh fools in the face that lack respect
Protect ya arm, pitch from the funk
I deodirise the musty, ya rhymes are crusty, you can't bust g
So leave me alone i'm in the zone
Walkin the streets on my own, nigga get blown
Some niggas say that nigga where is gone
But i'm low in the cut and gotta microphone
Are you gone bust or play bones?
You motherfuckin clone, get off that nigga's style and get'cha own
It's miscellane and it's on again
For the niggas that slept, they shoulda stayed in step
And kept ya big fuckin mouth shut

Chorus

Verse 2:where

I woke up with a stomach ache, headache, back ache
Advil, tylenol, peptol, slept so long realised my world is wrong
My world is gone like disco
Blowin up cisco and in my cammo
Standin in back of me was my soul
Thinking of the easiest way to get a bank roll
Knowledge is urban-able, exhaust manifold
A tar can of hos to lubricate my system quick
Shaky bitches off the dick
Cos she got a vice grip on the flow from my lips
I'm slow but equipped with the proper tools
Show me the one talkin shit so i can drop a fool
I'm out to glow a nigga roll if he think he mr cream
Come back on the scene and smoke a phillie, g
I really dream of gettin mine now let me tell you what's silly
Me, buckin with my team is murder one
I heard a gun bustin shots (shots!), down the block (block!)
I guess a nigga gettin what he got (got!)
Shit is heavy like a medicine ball and broke niggas to smoke niggas
I'll fuck one for y'all, they made ya last phone call
To a trick that didn't even care
Cos she was gettin fucked somewhere, you're stuck in there
Now you wanna bust, nigga, now you wanna kill, nigga (nigga)
Nigga how ya feel? (nigga)
You can't try to be real (you can't try to be real)
Shit is for real

Chorus

Verse 3:where

I'm cooler than most, but i got the shorter temper
And i'm cooler than foes that don't know how it goes
Let's take it back to the first side
When you was a new jack and jockin my new track
But you was wrong, didn't know about the big long
Head-strong, nicknamed dav from off the school yard
Witta teenage group i'm turnin loots to tracks
Me and my niggas like (these tracks are laced with bomb weed and tight
Lyrics)
You wanna know what the hos used to do
When me and my crew came bustin through
All sorts of blushins brew
(a neighbourhood find, a gift too swift, miscellane is the crew)
Underground till my brown eyed balls turned blue
This is for the bitches and niggas that wanna front
I smoke on, i broke on till i spoke on
Miscellane packin shows like farrakhan
Where is on another level with two niggas that's on the same plateau
Now that's three times your tightest flow
And three times ya tightest track, three times your fattest sack
Three times is clever (buck!)

Chorus x 2

Outro:

Thou shalt rest in grief who lay buried in the belt
Barely included work, leaves bodies scarred and hurt
To art in hell, where the next man dwells
The place with stankin pussy and crack rock dwells