Understanding » De lyrics [+ Tilføj +] |
1. _ We Get Low
[Memphis Bleek]
Ge-geah, R.O.C.
Yeah yeah
Ge-geah.. yeah, geah
G-yo, g-yo
Aiyyo I'm back wit it, still tote the gat wit it
Still got it locked, I sold some crack wit it
Who could fuck wit it? Not a soul, I'm out of control
The fo'-fo' blow out of control
Blow yo' mind outta that hole..
.. M.E.M. get a broad out of her home, out of her clothes
Into the Benz, get her into sippin the gin
Twistin the lye, get her into pushin the 5
Then we fly out of the state.. let shots out of the 8
They go in and out of your face
You want spend? I take 10 out of the safe
You want drink? Take a bottle, out of the case
Then we.. get into somethin, get into touchin
Get into fuckin - mami, no frontin
Shit, I got cake (geah) I got weight (geah)
Shit you wanna chill, mama, pick a state (let's go)
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Let's get high - first class seat on me
We get low - hotel fee on me
Let's get high - lay back, roll up weed
We get low - Bel've on the rocks, apple martini
[Memphis Bleek]
I'm in the S-5, all black, no tint
with a nice dime - all ass, no tits
Still, rippin the glock (Bleek) playin the block
Fuckin with mine - M.E.M., gettin it hot
Gettin it popped, gettin it jumped, gettin it crunk
And you don't wanna get slump duke, get in the trunk
Got a pound of that green, to get in New York
Get it through customs; Bleek ain't tryin to get caught
but get this - the fifth will get you support
Not that help - that life situation get short
Gettin with ma, Bleek still gettin her high
End up, gettin her somethin she ain't get in her life
She fuckin with them real niggaz who get low, who get dough
who got cake - baby, but get mo'
And I get hoes, but yo' bitch, I got
The same jewels, I got rid of you not (let's go)
[Chorus]
Let's get high.. we get low.. (repeat 4X)
more free lyrics
|
2. _ Everyday
[Memphis Bleek](Carl Thomas)
Yeah (oh), yo (oh)
Ay yo, you niggas know the Memph stay high and shit
Eleven hundred on Sunset burn the strip
Tryna choose which freak can drive the whip
You know the five double oh
You know how it go
You know all the hoes be bad to the toes
Pose centerfolds, smoke in the gold
You know how I be, drop Z3
Meet one freak, Bleek two heats
Nigga that's the rules, get at you dudes
Niggas see my feet be like look at them shoes
Straights dubs, hoes wanna fuck
Before they get a nut, first head in the truck
Shit we do 60, cranberry Bentley
This what'chu want, ho come and get me
You know the move
It gotta be right before you push the Z
Give me head at the lights
1 - [Carl Thomas]
Everyday it's just the same though
We just tryna see tomorrow
As we try to pay attention to the people we are
I'm just trying to have some fun
Live my life and own my gun
I know I can't live forever
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo she coul push the Plymouth, switch while I'm in it
You know how I do, we could fuck for a minute
She know that the Memph give a hundred percent
She can see the jewels shine from under the tints
Might see the fifth reflect from under the tints
Or your wife giving head from under the tints
You know that the crew wil'in in the turtle top
State to state, you know the hoes me and murder got
Cause when they see the plat-i-num, that be them
In the Range gettin' brains or the drop BM
Who you know that can stop these mens?
I'm come through in the Cadi, the color of gin
Somethin' clear you can see right in
Don't mistake the passenger, your wife was in
I let her underhand me, give me brain in the Banji
While I do a wheely with my hands in her panties nigga
Repeat 1 (2x)
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo check it, uh ay yo
Watch the wife, she don't play
You seen how she scratched the CLK
She hate ma-mas cause they roll shotgun
And when they smoke they like to take shotguns
And when I fuck I hit like shotguns
Violate me, get beat with shotguns
I can fight, I know I'm a boxer
See Bleek in the hardtop Boxer
Down in 'Frisco poppin' my collars
Smoke champelly, all black Impalla
3 Wheelin', Hennesey spillin'
Fuck the world, that's how Bleek feelin'
Cherry red M3, that's me
When you be like damn you killin' 'em, that's me
You know me, eye-cocked, twin buggy eyes
Blue as the watch face
The watch stay faced - nigga
Repeat 1 (2x)
[Carl Thomas]
I'm just trying to make it, whoa, yeah, yeah
I'm just tryna do what's right
Though the devil tries to tempt me, oh no, oh no, oh no...
more free lyrics
|
3. _ P.Y.T.
[Memphis Bleek]
Yeah motherfuckers
That's what y'all want right
That ol' gangsta, that ol' gangsta
Check it out now yo, yo
All I need, bomb ass freak nigga
Hold me down nigga
Hold my heat shit
Stash a brick, blast the clip
Gangsta shit, yo
I need me a straight down girl, get down girl
One to hold me down, one I can count on
I'll even teacher how to load the glocks
Sophisticated school girl
Be on my block
Rocking braclets, anklets the basics
Petite nice body, skin and face sick
One I could shop with
Go uptown and cop with
She not a thug girl but my down chick
She know how to roll the weed but don
|
4. _ Hustlers
Yeah
Sup wit' these lame-ass niggas, man?
I'm tellin' you
Niggas keep runnin' to this rap shit
You kna' mean?
Like y'all built like that
Ya'll niggas betta pick up a basketball, or somethin'
Ya'll niggas ain't ready for this shit
[Memphis Bleek]
If a nigga know the Memph
I ain't the type to front
I'll put any gun to you
What type you want?
Supply any drug for you
What high you want?
Bag any chick for you
Nicer slut
Yeah, I push hot fees
My niggas got cheese
You run around frontin'
Like you niggas got keys
You never flipped burgers
Your krew, I ain't heard of
Matter of fact, I'll murder ya
I heard you niggas spit shit
But it's indirect
Say my name
And see where I end this tech
I got a lot of love for this
But dawg, I'm real
When it's beef, it's beef
When it's rap, it's real
Nuttin' between
Alot of frontin' I seen
I done analyzed this game
It's nuttin' but schemes
New ways to sell records
I aim for it
Put it out if it's hot
Not, Just ignore it
[Chorus] (REPEAT 2X)
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo, yo
This is my ghetto
I eat, sleep, breathe here
To tell the truth, dawg
None of us gon' leave here
We die young, go to jail for murder 1
On a come-up, nigga
And that's where I'm from
I done learned from that Puff and that Lopez shit
I ain't runnin' in no club on some loco shit
I'mma catch you when you sit
Put 4 in yo whip
Catch your girl in the club
Put nut in your bitch
Niggas wanna see the Memph go and lose his cool
Go and use his tool
Nigga, use the fool
You could bootleg my shit
I want me a chunk, deuce
I'm not a chump, I'll leave you slumped in the trunk
What part of that you don't understand?
Or ain't hear?
Misinterpurate?
Dawg, I put WORK in
I got a name, and my shit sound phenomenol
Still keep them thangs
Next to the abdomenol
[Chorus] (REPEAT 2X)
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
[Bienie Sigel]
Uh, uh, uh
Yeah
Before these rhymes
I was bustin' these nines
Before these raps
I was bustin' my gat
Before the vocal groups
I spoke with the truth
Why do catz wanna muffle my speech?
Imagine my raps
If I wasn't in touch with the street
On the block, deep
Wit my peeps touchin' the heat
I'm used to crack, now i'm slingin' raps
Huster wit beats
You niggas is lame
You catz can't touch what I reach
And quiet as kept
You niggas can't hush what I speech
My story's too deep
Life real, clear as the streets
See my iced grill, hear my voice clear when you sleep
You niggas know me
The cat who be tearin' these streets
AIN'T NOTHIN' CHANGED
But my name when I appeared on these beats
It's Bien Mac
Sigel was the name that they gave me
The streets that is
I'm tryin' to teach that, kids
Cause some niggas don't know that they be clowns
Ay yo, the sun don't go down
WE GO ROUND
[Chorus]
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
That's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C
We them hustlers
And that's who ya'll know
We get low, get dough
Flip gold for sho'
We them gangstas
And that's who we be
We got cheese
Pop three for R-O-C, nigga
more free lyrics
|
5. _ Do My
[Jay-Z]
Turn that motherfucker louder
It's the Roc in this motherfucker
Bi-otch!
Oh yeah, bounce, uh uhbounce
Yeah, yeah bounce, come on
Oh come on bounce, come on
Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, come on)
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, come on)
[Memphis Bleek]
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air
Let 'em know you still thuggin'
Yo I come through, few of my man's
Scoop you and your friends
You, you, and you with the Timbs
In tight jeans, Chinese eyes
Indian hair, Black girl ass
Let me pour you a glass of Belvi
Tell me all about your past
Let me console your soul
While I palm your ass
And your man did what?
He ain't give you?
He cheated with her
I can't diss duke
I tell you this though
Get with this dude
I'll teach you about dough
And show you what this do
(It's a secret society, all we ask is trust)
But I don't freeze bitches
Just skeeze bitches
Break up happy homes
Just seize misses
You'll never get her back once you get a yacht
How you love that?
How you love that?
[Jay-Z]
Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, come on)
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, come on)
[Memphis Bleek]
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air
Let 'em know you still thuggin'
Ay yo back woods rollin'
Rap you can't hold 'em
ROC gear matchin' crews
Bleek is chillin', Murda is chillin'
What more can I say?
We still killin' em
Bags we still dealin' em
Four wheels, we wheelin' them
Chicks like I'm feelin' him
Yeah ma okay
Black jeans and Timberlands
Give them adrenaline rush
Ladies know the difference between them niggas and us
We the R-O-C and we don't stop
They don't make a gun that we don't pop
Matter fact they don't make a car that we don't drop
Thought you knew they don't make jewels that we don't cop
What you knew? You actin' like the ROC ain't hot
Or the car that I cop ain't missin' a top
And even if they don't make drops that kind
I tear da roof off like I'm Busta Rhymes motherfucker
[Jay-Z]
Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, come on)
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Come on, come on
[Memphis Bleek]
Do my ladies run it
Fat asses and flat stomachs
Throw a hand in the air
If it's the year of the woman
Or my dogs run it
Let 'em know that you're still gunnin'
Throw a drink in the air
Let 'em know you still thuggin'
[Jay-Z]
Do my ladies run this motherfucker?
(Okay)
Or do my thugs run this motherfucker?
(Uh-huh, okay, uh-huh)
Come on, come on
It's the R-O-C, we don't stop
It's the R-O-C, we don't stop
It's the R-O-C, we don't stop
Uh Memp Bleek, The Understanding niggas
Get your mind right, ha-ha
more free lyrics
|
6. _ U Know Bleek (intro)
[memphis bleek]
Yea.. serious shit..
[record scratch]
Aiyyo, this time it's for my family, we ride or die
It's in the blood til the death, now aim for the sky
My fo' blow for sure, for dough, for own land..
[record scratch]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs [street scholar]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs [r o c]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs
[memphis bleek]
Niggas said i can't do it
Funny i done it
The album is here, now who the fuck want it?
I let niggas eat now i'm here to collect
I admit they tried, but they ain't rep correct
Now the dinner table's set and it's my time to eat
Don't even wipe your mouth, get up, be out!
Don't let the cars fool you, or the jewelry blind you
My life's the realest nigga, i should write me a novel
This for them broads that'll hold me down
And my niggas on the internet that download my style
And my dog in line in at chow
Just bangin with his walkman playin me loud
And the nigga with that plate
Choppin them grams, him and his man
Listening to music that they understand
And that white boy goin to college
He don't know about the ghetto but know how to hold metal
Them white boys, they'll shoot shit up
They can listen to this shit, i don't give two fucks
But back to it, sippin on that cognac fluid
In the porsche, burnin the conduit
This is ride music, get high music
That m dot, hot supply music
That's the answer, life's like cancer
I thought i told y'all niggas i'm serious!
[record scratch]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs, you know bleek
more free lyrics
|
7. _ Change Up
[Beanie Sigel]
You bout to witness somethin like no other
The sky gon' get dark, streets gon' clutter
Weak-ass niggaz out there gon' suffer
Vets gon' quit, it's gettin hectic (uhh)
The shit got deep - right about the time
when the year skipped a beat, that's when my shit hit the street
Shit gon' shake up, squads gon' break up
Coats gon' get pulled, niggaz gon' wake up
Everybody want see a chance to eat
and chance the streets, you know they gon' 'vance police
Like the time they shackled me from hands to feet
cause I gave the jail system, a chance to speak
You know the cops wanna trap me up, the block wanna clap me up
It won't stop 'til they wrap me up (E'rything signed and sealed nigga)
Gat be tucked, heat gon' back me up
R.O.C. - Bleek come on nigga, back me up
{*beat changes*}
[Memphis Bleek]
Yeah.. yo..
Aiyyo Memph the young God, boss of this game
Got my part locked, I does my thang
Don't mistake me, I tote them thangs
Glock fo' pop off, knocks off thangs
Whole squad here, you know my click
Petit nice thing, you know my bitch
Wide body truck, you know my whip
Cop that rock that pop that shit
y'all niggaz, talk about, ain't really got
Me, I think dog, you not really hot
The hood I be, I stay in the drop
My hood, yo' hood, I'll lock any block
East to West Coast, Chi-Town baby
I come through, it's my town baby
A.T.L., I yell "Whattup my baby?"
Hit that, get that, bye bye baby!
{*beat changes*}
[Jay-Z]
Uh-huh uhh..
Guess who? Young Hov'
Bout to tear this motherfucker DOWN!
Holla at me! It goes.. uhh
Jigga Man huh, it goes..
Nah! Y'all niggaz ain't gon' have me rappin on the bullshit man
I.. I need some real music
So when we count to three and shit
Ya gonna drop some real shit
One, two, three - let's go!
more free lyrics
|
8. _ U Know Bleek
[Memphis Bleek]
Yea.. serious shit..
[Record scratch]
Aiyyo, this time it's for my family, we ride or die
It's in the blood til the death, now aim for the sky
My fo' blow for sure, for dough, for own land..
[Record scratch]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs [Street Scholar]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs [R O C]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs
[Memphis Bleek]
Niggas said I can't do it
Funny I done it
The album is here, now who the fuck want it?
I let niggas eat now I'm here to collect
I admit they tried, but they ain't rep correct
Now the dinner table's set and it's my time to eat
Don't even wipe your mouth, get up, be out!
Don't let the cars fool you, or the jewelry blind you
My life's the realest nigga, I should write me a novel
This for them broads that'll hold me down
And my niggas on the Internet that download my style
And my dog in line in at chow
Just bangin with his walkman playin me loud
And the nigga with that plate
Choppin them grams, him and his man
Listening to music that they understand
And that white boy goin to college
He don't know about the ghetto but know how to hold metal
Them white boys, they'll shoot shit up
They can listen to this shit, I don't give two fucks
But back to it, sippin on that Cognac fluid
In the Porsche, burnin the conduit
This is ride music, get high music
That M dot, hot supply music
That's the answer, life's like cancer
I thought I told y'all niggas I'm serious!
[Record scratch]
It's money, drugs, and hot slugs, you know Bleek
more free lyrics
|
9. _ I Get High
All my fans askin' me and shit
"Yo Bleek what you be doing on your spare time and shit?"
This what I do man (nigga)
Check how I do (yo)
Yo
[Chorus]
I gets high (high)
Rollin' down the I95
Ma' don't ask why
I love gettin' high
While I drive
I can't lie (I can't lie)
I puff lye (I puff lye)
While I drive down the I95
[Repeat]
[Verse 1]
I put this key in the ignition
Start my V
Take the clip out the ashtray
Spark my trees
You know that haze weed
Backwood roll tight
Belvedere cranberry juice mix light
Under 30% tint ridin' bent
Doin' a quarter
Smokin' on what grow under water
My life in order
You know I got a pocket fulla sticky
The whole BK, light a blunt up for Biggie
And smokeout
I gives a fuck if you got a skateboard
Or that new XO out
You blow the row out
And holla
I'mma survive or die
I'mma ride cuz they never take a nigga alive
I gets high
Rollin' down the I95
Starrin' through the rearview
From all the shit I survived
And as I ride by
I just tilt my hat
Put the car on cruise and roll up another sack
[Chorus]
[Repeat]
[Verse 2]
You catch Bleek rollin' hay
When I'm down in the Bay
Hey it don't stop
I light a blunt up for 'Pac
Pop my colla
Take another sip of that vodka
Hit three wheel motion
Locin' in the Impala
On them fifty spoke
With two pounds to smoke
And the weed come clean
No sticks no seed
Straight bud
And keep the car weed scented
Mami be like Bleek
We can't, breathe in it
Mami keep cool
Let me remove the roof
Take a sip of that Bel've
And remove your shoes
But ch'ya
Recline baby
Smoke good lime baby
This the real green
Out the High Times baby
We sittin' on dubs
Know what that like?
Twist enough bud
Mami get your mind right
[Chorus]
[Repeat]
I gets high
Holla at the I95
Holla at the bar
Yeah, uh huh
I can't lie (lie)
Holla at the bar
I puff lye (lye)
When I drive down the I95 (5)
G'yeah niggas
Y'all know
Holla at me (understand this now, we out, One)
Smoke one with cha dawg
more free lyrics
|
10. _ My Mind Right (remix)
[jay-z]
Remix
I'm sorry i ain't
I ain't get right back at'cha niggas
I've been a little busy with this dynasy shit
But uh got my mind right, money been right
I'm ready for war
Young hovah, holla yeah
I got the fifth niggas
You have to pick niggas off of the ground
When i pick niggas off with tha pound
Go get your click nigga
This nigga running with clowns
I'm a rich nigga
I get you clipped at cost right now
Niggas forget niggas as soon as your coffen off in the ground
Family man, look at your kids orphans now
Used to just smack rappers
I'm extorting them now
Taking all that's important to them now down to your bitch
Nigga you sick fronting like you tougher than what you are
Till the gun is coming thru the drivers side of your car
Using my name in vein like i won't damage the boy
You think niggas was shooting you out of canons before (i'm that nigga)
Niggas is pompous, first they in evil kanevil jumpers
Than they turning over rovers like they want it with hovah
It's not about rich and po', nigga, it's about richard poe
Understand i'm here to get this dough
It ain't about brooklyn or harlem
No more them it's about fame or stardom
It's about me being on blocks you borrowed from
I'm setting myself apart from rappers who use other peoples names
So other motherfuckers can watch 'em
It's as sample as this - y'all niggas get off my dick
I'll let you eat after i get off my bricks
The world's most dangerous clique; r.o.c. - mind right bitch
1 - [memphis bleek]
I got my mind right, money right
(yeah)
Ready for war
(uh-huh)
Nigga, we ready for y'all
I got my mind right, money right
(yeah)
Ready for war
(uh-huh)
Nigga betta study your forms
Repeat 1
[h money]
If there's wars with my dogs, it's war with h
Act pumped and get left with a sawed off face
Respect carter, respect the r.o.c or respect the shots
Or respect the shots 21 thrown out the heckle or cock
The co'd's no respect for the cops
Even if the park right next
To the spot we setting up shop
I got my mind and my cash right, a bad wife
Gripping a bag tight while yall living a mad life
I chase down niggas, shake down niggas
Head back to the honeycomb to break down figures
I love 38's but the trey pounds bigger
Throw in the bank, trucks the size of tanks now nigga
I don't rap for pleasure i rap for chedder
Guns clap for treasure straight like that forever
H, bleek & jay on a track together
It's a wrap for y'all dog
We ready for war
Repeat 1 (2x)
[memphis bleek]
I keep the gun tucked nigga
Which one of you tough
Which one of think you can go around with the pump
My clique for real
I ain't gotta talk no more
One in the leg, bet he won't walk no more
Ladies love me, why?
Cuz i give em backshots
Niggas wanna throw slugs but i bust back shots
It ain't even about trying to diss these niggas
It's about these niggas ain't built for these niggas
The r.o. yeah we simply street
You niggas cotton candy you simply sweet
I let the fifth spit without the red dot
I point and pop, pop, pop and drop
I got my mind right, money right ready for war
For that doe bleek bustin that for
This how real we get deep in the streets kid
The r.o.c. exclusive remix motherfucker
[beanie sigel]
I got my mind right, money right
And it's not right here
Who want a war?
Nigga i'm right here
Get mind right, your money light
Don't make me come out there
Snatch your whore and get it done right there
Little niggas ain't ready for war
Better get ready for bed
Buck shot land at your head
Buck shots right at your head
Sit you niggas in a permanent chair
Give you niggas permanent stares
Shut down the party with the cut down shotti
Make doctor, cut down your body
Keep a hammer fuck a strong arm robbery
I blast i push the gas on the road part johnny
I'm fast stay on the road so the law can't find me
In some quiet town tying it down
That's right mac still supplying it now
By the pounds, stop trying it now
I got my mind right nigga
more free lyrics
|
11. _ All Types of Shit
Yo yo
[Verse 1- Memph]
I swear to God I'm addressin all types of shit
Tote big guns, with all types of clips
See those cars I be in, all types of whips
All those whores I got, all types of chicks
See those sneaks I rock, all types of kicks
In the double xl, in all types of flicks
On my two way pager, typin' shit
I made alot of records, all type of hits
I was told to get dough, all types of chips
Flip weed, coke, dough, all types of bricks
I've been overseas, on all types of trips
My coke come on a boat, all types of ships
Catch me on hac(?) indica, S type and shit
The new CL, type s and shit
And I bust guns at all types of clicks
Took four and made all types of flips, motherfucker
[Chorus]
We got the S class, the Cadillac, and excel
We blowin up y'all, we got all types of V's
We got the chocolate, Hawaiian skunk, and purple haze
Roll it up y'all, we got all types of trees
We got the 4-4, the glock nine, and bright ghost
We throw it up y'all, we got all types of guns
We got the pesos, the dolla bills, the yen and mar
Throw it up y'all, we got all types of ones
[Verse 2-Memph]
Fuckin wit these records, I made all types of deals
Fuckin wit these wild dudes, i tote all types of steel
Fuckin wit these streets, Im in all types of beef
And now, that I'm on, i got all types of creeps
Movie stars, chickenheads, all types of freaks
Hydro, chocolate, all types of trees
Bentleys, widebodies, all types of v's
Yamaha's, snowmobiles, all types of skis
Know Bleek done it all, all types of things
Know the squad rock ice, all types of bling
And I learnt from the best, all types of vets
You know I throw it up, on all types of sets
And you know I hear it all, all types of hate
But Bleek benchpress all types of weight
When my shit drop, I'm gonna get all types of scans
And rap the logo on all types of vans, motherfucker
[Chorus 2x]
[Jay-Z]
Yea man, it's Young Hova
Coolin out, young Memph Bleek, you know?
Wha ya niggaz need man?, whacha do, wha ya 'vice man?
You smoke, drink, do dope man, got dat shit man
Wha'cha hoes wanna see us in, suv's, coupes, drops?
We got all dat shit man
Wha'cha like man, wha'cha u wanna see us in, five, ten bedrooms?
We sleep in twenty, we sleep in twenty, man
Wha'cha need, movie theaters, duplexes, triplexes, we got that man
Wha'cha wanna see us in, rocawear furs, holla man
Ma, what you wanna see us in?
[Girl Talking]
yo, you know what I need to see u in
I need to see you in some briefs
*music stops*
[Jay-Z]
Briefs!?
*singing*
No we don't do that..hahaha....holla!
more free lyrics
|
12. _ Bounce Bitch
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Huh, huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Y'all ain't ready for this shit
Y'all ain't ready
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Let's go, yo
You ho's know I stay jig
ROC wear sweat suits
Type to pull up on your block
2G benz coupe and you know
I ain't even got to spit no game
I just show you the chain
Then I'm getting some brain
Hit it left, right, left
Like I'm bouncing with drama
Just light up a light
Put that glow on the arm
I let you sip Don
If the Cris' too strong
Once the bitch drunk
Then she showing that thong
As we proceed
Got her rolling the weed
Hydro eyes low on our way to the p's
Ya'll know I go I be nervy than deez
Niggas who scheme
Niggas who be trying to get Bleek
So you know I keep the heat
I be ready to creep
Nine low, bright though
Get a quick thirteen
Violate you'll see
You can die this week
Motherfucker I don't play
I get this cream, jigga
1 - Bounce bitch
Let's get it poppin'
You fucking with this thug
Who love to go shopping
Love to cop jewels to light up my crew
So bitch act right
You could light up to, but
Bounce bitch
Let's get it poppin
You fucking with this thug
Who know when they're watching
You know I aint frontin'
Show me something
Bitch, you act right
I might buy you you something
Ayo you know the wife
She the type you aint seen duke
She love a thug
When he dressed in them jean suits
Wifebeaters
With that ice that bling duke
She know the Memph
Get deep in her spleen duke
I keep her jig
Cause I send her through Nine West
Your bitch bad but I keep mine dressed nigga
Gucci shoes, Fendi bags and shit
Princess cut's briggets all that classy shit
And you know next step
Now she giving me head
6a.m fuck it we could do it again
And I'm a Juvenile bitch
So back that ass up
You drink, I'ma Cognac your ass up
What's your life like
I'm about my ends so get your peeps, I got a couple of friends
And I'ma tear it up shit
Smoke an ounce and I'm gone
If the cat tight
Fuck it Memph leaving tomorrow
Repeat 1
more free lyrics
|
13. _ They Will Never Play Me
This for my thug, thug
Drug, drug
And guns, guns
Come on, come on
Come on, it's the ROC nigga
Yo, yo
Ayo niggas wanna hate me cause I run thugs
Show no love and my guns bust
And I got your bitch on my nuts and I push two trucks
You niggas out here gone do what?
Nothing but talk about it
You niggas ain't bout it, bout it
You see Bleek
J-I-G from the hat to sneaks
Dem them jordans but what's important
You niggers scheming
I told y'all, I got my mind right
And my money right
I brought a new tech and believe my shit air right
The game nigga love it, leave it
It ain't gone change nigga
From my hood to your hood
This shit the same nigga
You see me hopping out
Coping that Bel
|
14. _ In My Life
In my life (echoes two times)
In my life (echoes two times)
(Chorus)
In my life
There's been heartache and pain
In my life
There's been heartache and pain
There's been heartache and pain
In my life
There's been heartache and pain
I'm still that regular, cetera cat, from the street
Thuggin it, lovin my life as Memph Bleek
But I'm stuck with, huggin that block, sellin that D
Grew up with, nothin but killas and O.G.'s
I'm the product of the ghetto 'til they bag me up
With a bail stash in case they snatch me up
I'm a soldier in this war and I resemble my pops
I ain't nothin like him, that's where this criminal stop
I provide for the fam, divide them grams
Cook it, make flips, survival plans
Bein successful, I had every intent
But I went to the high school a playin the bench
We live off wit, just like our switch-up strips
I was raised by the gun so I switch up clips
Gettin my hustle on, tryna switch up kicks
I won't change bein thug, I won't switch up shit
It's my life nigga
(Chorus)
I've put work in, for me to reach this level
To let the world know that I speak for the ghetto
I've been through the struggle, downfall and the hurt
Puttin the close one, deep in the dirt
I lost one a my road dogs in nine-eight
I still see him everytime I look in his mom's face
But don't cry (ma'), we gon' see the light
I know he up in Heaven and he gon' lead us right
I live by the street so I'm a die by the street
As long as I'm alive his daughter'll never need
We used to be this close
But now it feel we this far apart, me and that nigga can't talk
We can't bag and kick it, bag some bitches
Only time I see 'em, is when I glance at pictures
But I gotta face the fact, my nigga is gone
But I'm a ride to the death, and still I mourn
In my life nigga
(Chorus)
In my life (echoes two times)
In my life (echoes two times)
Sometimes I just grab the car keys and ride
With no music, I'm just ridin the vibe
I done came a long way, from usin the plate
Touchin the eight, who would've thought I'd make it today
It was just yesterday, moms waitin on the stamps
The spot got shot up, and Dre still locked up
It's me against the world with no brother, just a revolver
And I ain't thinkin about seein tomorrow
I got sixty-two grams and a six-shot eight
With plans to hit the block and get shit straight
But my dog just got shot, spot just got rushed
I lost all my weight when the crack pot bust
I was left with zip, zero, nothin
That's when I realized that my life ain't 'bout nothin
The world wouldn't understand Bleek in the street
So I took it to the booth and gave y'all the speech
(Chorus) 2x
more free lyrics
|
15. _ My Mind Right
[Jay-Z]
Remix
I'm sorry I ain't
I ain't get right back at'cha niggas
I've been a little busy with this dynasy shit
But uh got my mind right, money been right
I'm ready for war
Young Hovah, holla yeah
I got the fifth niggas
You have to pick niggas off of the ground
When I pick niggas off with tha pound
Go get your click nigga
This nigga running with clowns
I'm a rich nigga
I get you clipped at cost right now
Niggas forget niggas as soon as your coffen off in the ground
Family man, look at your kids orphans now
Used to just smack rappers
I'm extorting them now
Taking all that's important to them now down to your bitch
Nigga you sick fronting like you tougher than what you are
Till the gun is coming thru the drivers side of your car
Using my name in vein like I won't damage the boy
You think niggas was shooting you out of canons before (I'm that nigga)
Niggas is pompous, first they in Evil Kanevil jumpers
Than they turning over Rovers like they want it with Hovah
It's not about rich and po', nigga, it's about Richard Poe
Understand I'm here to get this dough
It ain't about Brooklyn or Harlem
No more them it's about fame or stardom
It's about me being on blocks you borrowed from
I'm setting myself apart from rappers who use other peoples names
So other motherfuckers can watch 'em
It's as sample as this - y'all niggas get off my dick
I'll let you eat after I get off my bricks
The world's most dangerous clique; R.O.C. - mind right bitch
1 - [Memphis Bleek]
I got my mind right, money right
(yeah)
Ready for war
(uh-huh)
Nigga, we ready for y'all
I got my mind right, money right
(yeah)
Ready for war
(uh-huh)
Nigga betta study your forms
Repeat 1
[H Money]
If there's wars with my dogs, it's war with H
Act pumped and get left with a sawed off face
Respect carter, respect the R.O.C or respect the shots
Or respect the shots 21 thrown out the heckle or cock
The Co'd's no respect for the cops
Even if the park right next
To the spot we setting up shop
I got my mind and my cash right, a bad wife
Gripping a bag tight while yall living a mad life
I chase down niggas, shake down niggas
Head back to the honeycomb to break down figures
I love 38's but the trey pounds bigger
Throw in the bank, trucks the size of tanks now nigga
I don't rap for pleasure I rap for chedder
Guns clap for treasure straight like that forever
H, Bleek & Jay on a track together
It's a wrap for y'all dog
We ready for war
Repeat 1 (2x)
[Memphis Bleek]
I keep the gun tucked nigga
Which one of you tough
Which one of think you can go around with the pump
My clique for real
I ain't gotta talk no more
One in the leg, bet he won't walk no more
Ladies love me, why?
Cuz I give em backshots
Niggas wanna throw slugs but I bust back shots
It ain't even about trying to diss these niggas
It's about these niggas ain't built for these niggas
The R.O. yeah we simply street
You niggas cotton candy you simply sweet
I let the fifth spit without the red dot
I point and pop, pop, pop and drop
I got my mind right, money right ready for war
For that doe Bleek bustin that for
This how real we get deep in the streets kid
The R.O.C. exclusive remix motherfucker
[Beanie Sigel]
I got my mind right, money right
And it's not right here
Who want a war?
Nigga I'm right here
Get mind right, your money light
Don't make me come out there
Snatch your whore and get it done right there
Little niggas ain't ready for war
Better get ready for bed
Buck shot land at your head
Buck shots right at your head
Sit you niggas in a permanent chair
Give you niggas permanent stares
Shut down the party with the cut down shotti
Make doctor, cut down your body
Keep a hammer fuck a strong arm robbery
I blast I push the gas on the road part Johnny
I'm fast stay on the road so the law can't find me
In some quiet town tying it down
That's right Mac still supplying it now
By the pounds, stop trying it now
I got my mind right nigga
more free lyrics
|
16. _ Is That Your Chick (The Lost Verses)
[Jay-Z]
R-O-C
Memph Bleek
Jigga man
Missy, Twista sho' nuff
Yeah, yo
Don't get mad at me
I don't love 'em I fuck 'em
I don't chase 'em I duck 'em
I replace 'em with another one
You had to see she keep calling me BIG
(And another one!)
And my name is Jay-Z
She was all on my dick
Gradually I'm taking over your bitch
Coming over your shit
Got my feet up on you sofas, man
I mean a hostess for my open hand
You coming home to dishes and empty soda cans
I got your bitch up in my Rover man
I never kiss her, I never hold her hand
In fact I diss her I'm a bolder man
I'mma pimp her, it's over man
When I twist her in the Gold sedan
Like I'm Goldie man, you're bitch chose man
Jigga man, iceberg with the frozen hands
wedding bands don't make it rosy man
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo check it now, yo, yo
Your hoe chose I
I ain't gonna lie
What I look like turnin' down chocha
Drove by, smokin' lye
Recognize a pimp, open your eyes
Hop in the passenger side of the ride
Damn Bleek, can't speak
Uh-huh, okay, what's up, SHUT UP
And close the door
Act like you been in the drop top
On the open road before
Fix your weave, then fix me
Ever gave head doing 160?
Ever seen a pair of kicks this crispy
How you love how the white wife beater fit me
M-dot, him hot, them not
(That's gangsta)
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
[Twista]
Tha Jigga and Twista got 'em screaming
Like a demon fiending for the semen
Chrome gleaming like the dome off Keenan
Gone while I'm leanin' smoking
I'm whip it in the stomach
Your bitch on the passenger side of me flashing your money
Why you acting so funny?
You know she been flirting while your working
Behind the curtain knuckles jerking for certain
Poppin' that pussy
Sweatin' till no fluid is left
When I come in the party with J we gonna do it to death
You gon' ruin your rep
Trippin' while we pimpin' these hefers
Playa lectures got me shining like a new Gator stepper
Must have been mad
When your ho put my stuff in the dash
Bust in her ass
To climax I come up with a nab
The game don't stop
Legit ballers bending up the block
Niggas rushing, coming at us cause of status and props
Sucking and fucking, loving it when I put tha dick up inside her
Can't help it if she yellin' with a ridah
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
[Jay-Z]
Yo, yo
Why you home alone, why she out with me?
Room 112, hotel balcony
How she say Jay you can call the house for me?
There's no respect at all
You betta check her dawg
She keep beggin' me to hit it raw
So she can have my kids and say it was yours
How foul is she? And you wifed her
Shit, I put the rubber on tighter
Sent her home, when she entered home
You hugged her up
What the fuck is up?
She got you whipped, got your kids
Got your home, but that's not your bitch
You share that girl, don't let 'em hear daddy Earl
It'll make 'em sick that his favorite chick
Ain't saving it, unfaithful bitch
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
[Memphis Bleek]
Yo how dumb the pimp?
I heard he trick
Bought a new five, maybe a six
Copped that for his new down bitch
And I was digging that down since '96 shit
Memph man I'll take your bitch
Let her do her thing, give brain in the whip
And you know how it go when it come to the hoes
She can do the same thing to the clique you know
Your hoe chose, don't get mad at me
Got your wife callin' me daddy
Put her out on the street let her get that cheese
My bad is that your freak
But you know how a thug do
When a nigga hit that, it's fuck you
Keep it snug, tre deuce in the boot
Niggas wanna act, get a motherfuckin' slug too
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
[Jay-Z]
Cool out homie
You betta keep her away from my balling clique
Keep her out of nightclubs all in the mix
From hanging out with chicks who be swallowing dicks
From catz who order Cris play the floor with the Knicks
That can only lead to something unfortunate
Hot boy like Jigga man scorch your bitch
Play the floor dot Jigga man go first
Then we all rock cause we all hot
You know the boys from the Roc got them whores on lock
Got them bitches in the smash
Making yours drive fast
Cause we get more cash than the average nigga
All dem hoes like damn I gotta have this nigga
Cause I'mma hot black, how in the hell can you stop that
You would fuck mine
How the hell can you knock that?
I'm just playing the cards choosenly
Jigga man who ya supposed to be?
[Missy]
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his ride?
With her hand on his thigh
Keep looking in his eyes
Oh is that your chick?
You better tell her chill
While you all in his grill
Don't you know that man kill?
Is that your chick?
Why she beeping him?
Keep praising him?
Cause that's Bleek and them, trick
more free lyrics
|
17. _ Waiting March
|
18. _ Laconic
|
19. _ J.P.S.
|
|
|
|