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I Like Dem Girlz (Remix)

by Lil' Jon f/ Too $hort & OTHERS

Artist: Lil' Jon f/ Chyna Whyte, Jazzy Phe, Too $hort
Album: We Still Crunk
Song: I Like Dem Girlz (Remix)
Typed by: lil_c@onebox.com
SENT BY--rassfan@hotmail.com

[Lil' Jon]
Uh-uh, Lil' Jon and them Eastside Boyz (Yeah)
Chyna Whyte (Yeah, yeah), $hort Dog (Yeah, yeah)
For the remix baby

[Lil' Jon]
It's some girls in this house
It's some girls in this house
If you see 'em point 'em out
If you see 'em point 'em out

[Chyna Whyte]
There's some thugs in this house
There's some thugs in this house
With that bling in they mouth
Bling-bling in they mouth

[Too $hort]
I like them girls with that long, long hair
I like them girls that don't care if you a player
I like them girls that'll let ya feel they ass
At the club with her empty champaigne glass
I like them girls that'll tell you what they think
Feelin' freaky after 2 or 3 drinks
I like them girls that be choosin' on a baller
Let you holler when she see you pop yo collar
I like them girls that don't like to have sex
Unless a player got a diamond Rolex
I like them girls that'll let ya move around
Catch a plane and meet a player outta town
I like them girls that like to stay up real late
Even though she gotta be at work at 8
I like to ride her like that 1980 Caddy
Real nasty cause she hate her baby daddy
I like them girls

[Jazzy Phe]
Some call 'em hoochies
Some call 'em breezies
Some call 'em chickens
But we call 'em girls and that's how it goes

[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls with them tats on they back
That be dem gurls with them fresh cowboy hats
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with them big face bills
That be dem thugs with that gold in they grill
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls with them cute, pretty toes
That be dem gurls where anythang goes
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with them tooked out bikes
Kawasaki with the 2 headlights

[Lil' Jon]
I like dem girls
(Where dem gurls at Where dem gurls at)
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs
(Where the thugs at Where the thugs at)
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls
(What's up, what's up What's up, what's up What's up, what's up)
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs
(Yeah, Where the thugs at - Yeah, Where the thugs at
Yeah, Where the thugs at - yeah)
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls
(I like dem gurls)
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs
(I I like dem thugs, I I like dem thugs)
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls
((What's up, what's up What's up, what's up What's up, what's up)
[Chyna Whyte]
(Yeah, Where the thugs at - Yeah, Where the thugs at
Yeah, Where the thugs at - yeah)

[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls that be sippin' on that Cris
That be dem gurls that'll let you lick they . . .
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with dem candy coated whips
That be dem thugs that put they mouth on the lips
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls that can bounce it to the beat
That be dem gurls that'll put yo boy to sleep
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with curly hair and pretty eyes
That be dem thugs with dem 20-inch tires
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls with dem short Prada dresses
That be dem gurls that'll cook a playa breakfast
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with dem tats on they neck
Down they arm, on they chest, cross they back
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls that always wear a thong
That be dem gurls that'll cut ya all night long
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs with dem Ree's on they feet
Soldier rag, t-shirt, Girbaud jeans

[Lil' Jon]
I like dem girls
(Where dem gurls at Where dem gurls at)
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs
(Where the thugs at Where the thugs at)
[Lil' Jon]
I like dem gurls
(What's up, what's up What's up, what's up What's up, what's up)
[Chyna Whyte]
I like dem thugs
(Yeah, Where the thugs at - Yeah, Where the thugs at
Yeah, Where the thugs at - yeah)

[Lil' Jon]
Just ride on out (Ride on out)
(Repeat 3x's)
All the ladies just ride with me (Ride with me)
All the ladies just bounce with me (Bounce with me)
All the ladies just ride
Ride (Ride) Ride (Ride)

Posted on May 9, 2001, 11:46 AM

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I Do

by Toya

Artist: Toya
Song: I Do
Written by: SyLly_Gyrl@aol.com*
Sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com
*= Send corrections to writer

He was a 6 foot (stallion?) with the story of a thug
He was the kind that made you wonder how he put down the love
He had a hickey in his pocket wit that rock in his ear
He made my heart stop stop pulsating everytime he came near
He has a spankin new Range for that tight wardrobe
His pants was saggin plaided, and his head was cornrows
He has his wrists bling blinging and his long legs was bow
He tried to push up on me but I knew he had me at go

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

Me and my crew started groovin Made our way to the floor
I start to activate my pad and give this hottie a show
I shook my hips, took a dip, roll my tounge 'cross my lips
And when he took his place to dance wit me I felt fingertips
On the small of my back, so i had to react
Like I was playin hard to get and told that boy to step back
But when I looked deep in his eyes all i could see was his soul
Im bout to make this guy my man .. that i can tell you, fa 'sho

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

Watch me drop, drop, shake it for the fellahs who know
Watch me pop, pop my ass as I dip and roll
Watch me stop, stop traffic as I walk through the room
Knowin all the papi's want me but all I want is you

(I do)

Watch me drop, drop, shake it for the fellahs who know
Watch me pop, pop my ass as I dip and roll
Watch me stop, stop traffic as I walk through the room
Knowin all the papi's want me but all I want is you

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

I Do, I wonder if you feel the same way I do
I can see it in your eyes, I entice you
So come on shorty if you think you can roll
wit an iced out playah ballin out of control

Posted on May 7, 2001, 5:41 PM

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Perfect Gentleman

by Wyclef Jean

Artist: Wyclef Jean
Album: The Ecleftic * 2 Sides II a Book
Song: Perfect Gentleman
Typed by: Spictastic@yahoo.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

(This one's goin' out to the strip joints
Yo, meet me at Suzy's Rendez-vous
For every Go-Go Bar
I'ma send this one out to the gentlemen's clubs
Magic City, New York dogs, Rolex
I be seeing y'all up in there late at night
I understand when your girl is stressing you out
(Crazy girls) Know what I'm saying?
Don't let the ladies fool y'all now, fellas
They be doin' the same thing y'all be doin'
Turn up my symphony, man.
Turn up my symphony!
Drop a BEAT!)

[Chorus]
Just 'cuz she dances go-go
It don't make her a ho, no
Maxine, put your dance shoes on
We going to the disco
We gonna eeeelope to Meeeexico
Called up my mama, said I'm in love with a stripper, yo

[Verse 1]
Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no
bones in your body and you was made to be a celebrity
Twenty grand, know it's a sin, but before me you show
me a little more skin it would fulfill my fantasy
Thirty grand, to the highest bidder but Chris Rock
said, 'There's no sex in the champaigne room'
Forty grand, looked into her eyes, I saw tears falling
down, type of tears that money couldn't buy

[Chorus 2X]

[Verse 2]
[Wyclef]
Excuse me, what is your name?
[Hope]
Uh, my name is Hope, yo
I was blessed with the body of the Goddesses
Have you any idea how hard this is?
I could flex in 25 positions
But I only work here to pay my tuition
Yo, tantalizing teaser
Table-top pleaser
Give me what I need a
Mastercard a Visa
Lap dance fantasy
Picture us on and on white canopy
Wyclef extended his hand to me
Like Billy D. said he's feelin me
Take me away from here, so far
Where they ride horses, no cars
No more stripping in bars
Me and you 'Clef, against the odds

[Chorus 2X]

(Yo a lot of y'all sitting with y'all girls
fronting like the budweiser commercial
Talking bout, 'IIIIIII, I don't be going to the strip joints'
You lying man! You'd be surprised who you see up in there man.
I got one question for you liars, man)

Shot callers, Wasn't you a preacher?
You calling her a hooker? He without sin cast the first stone.
I met her on the subway, she gave me that VIP card
And told me if I ever have problems,
Don't hesitate to come by, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Chorus 2X]
Call up my mama said I'm in love with a stripper yo!

(Yo baby, can I get another lap dance? I tell you I
got nothing but funny money, man. New York Dogs.)

Posted on May 6, 2001, 1:10 PM

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One Night

by Fredro Starr f/ Ice-t &others

Artist: Fredro Starr f/ Begetz, Ice-T, Mieva, Versatile
Album: Firestarr
Song:
Typed by: goldenarms_10304@yahoo.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

[Chorus 2X: Mieva]
I don't want to love you
I just wanna, fuck you
One night, one night, just wanna fuck you

[Begetz]
Oh bitch you so fine, like a trampoline wit rocks you just shine
Be a real bitch, let me hit it from behind
Which bed you wanna climb, throwin lace and shit
Just want the pussy one time, let 'em know
I don't love 'em, I don't hate 'em neither
Best way to describe Begetz, is the faithful cheater
Ain't no rings on ya finger, is we fuckin or what?
Pack a overnight bag, and still ya man trust
Said "guns turn me on" she got a thing for rappers
Gettin fucked in the ass, face stuck in the mattress
Should of listened to Fire, every bitch is liar
Ain't worth shit but a blunt and lighter, get high bitch

[Versatile]
I treat a bitch like a ho, cuz a ho's a bitch
You know it's Other People's Money that be makin them trick
They makin me sick, never stop suckin my dick
Thinkin the nigga runnin tricks cuz he sit in a six
I by Crys' just to spit on bitch
Very Important Pimp, I know you hear that bitch
You see this wrist? When the sky look like this, ya ass can skip
A bitch will learn, first of all I don't pay for titties
Know you man, gettin hed in a Range, in the city
Hittin switches, while ya whole ass zip down my dickey
Avoidin hickeys, I don't love ya hoes for nothin
Smack a bitch, and you think I'm frontin, playa, trick

[Chorus 2X]

[Fredro Starr]
Trick, what, lace who? I ain't Mase, boo
Fire is a nigga that'll fuck you and tape you
And show it to your face boo, not behind ya back
And let you see how you gettin murdered from the back
If it wasn't for the flicks would you be all on my dick
When we fuckin, you let a nigga call you bitch
When you suckin, will make you swallow all of my shit
Should of "Treat You Like a Prostitute" and listened to Rick
But the head got better, pussy got wetter
Six months later, Begetz couldn't dead her
But guess what? I keep that bitch broker than fuck
Let her browse wit a cloud and started open her up
I brought her out though, shoes, just to open her up
It's coconuts, the way she sniff coke up the nuts
You know the rules, keep 'em pretty, never cash in the hand
That's what you get from a one night stand, don't move bitch

[Chorus to end]

[Ice-T]
That's right bitch, don't move, this Ice-T bitch
Now you got real trouble, you know what I'm sayin
Fire let me holla at this ho
Yo bitch, they told me if you knew better, you'd choose better
You know? You think long, you think wrong
The problem is bitch, you can't swing a slow bat at a fast pitch
Fuck a nigga like me, you might get rich
But it ain't gonna be all fun
you step outta poppin one muthafuckin inch
You better duck or run
I really can't get mad at you for not recognizin this izzy
Cuz if you ain't never had nothin
how the fuck you supposed to get used to somethin
The true root of the problem wit most of ya broke ass hoses
You so muthafuckin used to losin
you can't even figure out what ya fuckin, what
Bitch!

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on May 7, 2001 5:58 PM

Posted on May 6, 2001, 7:51 AM

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All Out

by 2Pac f/ others

Artist: 2Pac f/ Outlawz
Album: Until the End of Time (Disc One)
Song: All Out
Typed by: Rector13@home.com
Sent by: RasSFAN@HOTMAIL.COM

(hellicopter propeller turning)

[Kastro & Napoleon]
We goin all out (aiiiite)
We goin all out (aiiiite)
We goin all out, watch ya motherfuckin mouth niggaz
(That's right, fuck these fag niggaz)
Do it, do it, do it

[2Pac]
Come hell or high water, down to slaughter opposers
Just another lost soul, stuck, callin Jehovah
Outlaw 'til it's over, brand as my strap
Back like a cobra, I stay drunk, cause I'm a mad man
Whenever sober, on a one man mission
My ambition to hold up the rap game
While I pluck holes in niggaz like donuts
And still down to die for all my souljas
Like hillbillies, they don't fear me
So refuse bringin war to the city
With each breath, death before dishonor
Never let you swallow me, no apologies, your honor
A general in war, I'm the first to bomb
With a squad of trusted killers, quick to move shit heavily armed
I'm similar to Saddam, sometimes I question Hussein
Like fiends frantic for that last vein, stuck in the game
I hit the scene like sandstorms, then transform, watch me
I take the figure of dirty niggaz, who all got me
While bitches wonderin who shot me
No love, keep a grudge, shootin sluggs like Muammar Quadaffi
Murder my friends, build a new posse
We takin shots at paparazzi, go and fly now, nigga like Rocky
You got a lot of nerve to play me
Another gay rapper, bustin caps to Jay-Z
(buck buck buck buck buck buck)
And still avoid capture, while y'all caught up in the rapture
Still after me, I'm in Jamacia sippin daquiris, no doubt
We used to havin nothin, then grabbin somethin and bustin
Wanted to be the thug-nigga, that my old man wasn't
I came to a field, catchin cases, litigation
Niggaz playa-hatin, got me crooked in all 50 states
I'm screamin DEATH ROW, throw my WESTSIDE, ain't no thang
We was raised off drive-by's, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B. if you be specific
We control all cash from Atlantic-Pacific
And get this, I'm hard to kill, when I peel with this live spot
Father, how the hell did I survive, these five shots?
Live it up, of give it up, and my demons
Late night, hear them screamin; we goin all out!

[Chorus: EDI]
We goin all out, bomb first till they fall out
Take them the war route, without a doubt
Ball, which means we all ride if it's on
Each nigga handle ya own, bring it on strong
If you got bills to pay, nigga go all out
Bustas playin with ya peeps, betta go all out
Try'na see the next day, nigga go all out
Obstacles in ya way, you better go all out

[Napoleon]
I'm on my land sled, walkin through the belly of the beats
Feelin like I'm all out, drunk as can be
It's plain to see, that we mobb niggaz hidin' in bushes
Claimin that they ride rough, but they soft as they cushion
They softer than bitches in the worst way, drownin in blood
Outlawz my blood brothers, I'd die for these thuggs
Say hi to this slug, it's a shame how some niggaz on the west coast
was ridin with Pac, but when he died, they went pop
I'm on the Jers to the fullest, like some west coast love
But after Pac stopped rappin, it ain't no west coast thug
Just westcoast what? To my real niggaz stuck in the street game
Cause rappers like Jay-Z be pumpin Kool-Aid through they veins
Is it true what I'm sayin? Slap your soft ass to the floor
And watch my fo-fo put peek holes through your door
I ride or die, but these other fag niggaz be bitin this
It's all from my heart when I was writin this
All out

[chorus]

[Kastro]
Now, we all ride, and down to die who wit us
Speak up, or get treated like you comin to kill us
Ain't nothin but squealers, in this rap game, swearin they rough
Tattooed up, and now them niggaz swearin they Pac
Stop that, and watch ya back, we ain't forgot bout cha
These glocks hot, and when shot, it'll bring the bitch up out cha
It's me, Kastro with the goattee
Walkin' like a OG, cause all these fag motherfuckers owe me
I pray to the thug lord, like that motherfuckers holy
Frontline soulja, till the heavens call me
I go all out, and if you real, you real
Feel what I'm talkin' bout, cause this game is ill
I live it, forbidden fruit, shoot, 'till they feel it
Livin' proof, Pac breed niggaz, they can't deal wit'
Holla back, right back, and watch ya mouth
Or get blood in it, WHAT, we goin' all out
Nigga

[chorus] - 2X

fool, you better go all out
keep goin' all out
all my niggaz goin' all out
without a muthafuckin' doubt

[EDI talking]
Ey, you niggaz just gon think that you gon be uhh
talkin and slippin on all of these motherfuckin records
and we ain't gon say shit, now it's 1999
It's a different grind, don't disrespect the Don
It's still war motherfuckers
So let's see you act like you know

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on May 7, 2001 6:02 PM

Posted on May 6, 2001, 12:17 AM

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BaKardi Slang

by Kardinal Offishall

Artist: Kardinal Offishall
Album: Firestarter Vol 1: Quest For Fire
Song: BaKardi Slang
Typed by: graumit@hotmail.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

[Kardinall Offishall]
Yo Yo
Silver turn it up, yeah
We gonna put you on to something brand new yo
Know what I mean

Yo
We don't say 'you know what I'm sayin'
T dot says 'ya dun know'
We don't say 'hey that's the breaks'
we say 'yo, a so it go'
We don't say 'you get one chance'
We say 'you better rip the show'
Before bottles start flyin and you runnin for the door
Y'all talking about 'cuttin and hittin skins'
We talkin bout 'beat dat face'
T dot niggaz will eat your food before y'all cats say grace
You cats is steady saying 'word'
My cats is steady yellin 'zeen'
Half the time we talking about 'more times'
We don't even know what 'more times' means!
'More times we rocker fresher'
'More times we come correct'
More times you think it's the hot shit
You haven't heard nuttin yet
Differently, still ya kno
The cirlce gettin ill ya know
Step on the wrong Bally boot and you might get kill ya know
So every might walk through a dance tell a youth 'xcuse me'
I'm tellin your jubie 'I like her style'
She's talkin about 'abuse me'
Use me show me how the T dot rolls
My style is off the thermostat plus I'm comin from the cold-yo

CHORUS [Kardinal] (Saukrates)
(What the... chill!)
My nigga's in the street throwin dot slang each and every single time we meet
(What the... chill!)
My ladies lookin hot, screw face kissin teet
represtentin the T dot
Kardinal rock the pary, T dot drinking Bacardi
Kardi drinkin Bacardi, T dot rocking the party
Nigga's jumpin and wildin and ladies showin a smile
And everybody know its 'the T dot

[Kardinal Offishall]
So when we singin about the girls we singin about the 'gyal dem'
Y'all talkin about 'say that one more time'
We talkin about 'yo, come again'
Y'all talkin about 'that nigga's a punk'
We talkin about 'that yout's a fosse'
For the kids that think I'm comin wit it
Brother just watch me
A shoe is called a 'crep'
A big party is a 'fete'
Ya'll takin about 'watch where you goin!'
We talkin about 'mind where you step!'
We backin a 2-4 of Guiness, we ain't messin' with moet
And if you runnin out of liquor the bar might get wet
You're talkin about 'yo, that girl's hype'
We like 'she's the bundown'
Y'all say 'a DJ battle'
We say 'clash with two sounds'
We rock the hottest things no matter how much it cost
You talkin about 'yeah son!'
We talkin about 'yo, lock it off!'
Wheel that and tek it from de top
And just flash up unno lighta and watch the dance rock
Kardinal is gonna show you how the T dot rolls
My style is off the thermostat plus I'm comin from the cold-yo

CHORUS

[Kardinal Offishall]
Y'all steady talkin about 'your boys'
We talkin about 'de man dem'
We talkin about 'your breddren
We talkin about 'your friend'
When you say 'the club is over'
Yo we say 'the jam done'
When we thinkin about the west, we thinkin about Red-1
Big ups and salutations to the Figure IV crew
When you sayin 'she's a chicken'
She a 'skettlebam too!'
When you talkin about a 'thug nigga'
We talkin about a 'shotta'
When you think you got it locked, T dot comin much hotta
You think we all Jamacian, when nuff man are Trini's
Bajans, Grenadians and a hole heap of Hatians
Guyanese and all of the West Indies combined
To make the T dot O dot, one of a kind
Irs said 'we burn kahn' that mean 'they puff lah'
When we say 'hell no', that means you 'that nuh mek it'
Look me in the eye and tell me y'all ain't sold
My style is off the thermostat plus I'm comin from the cold-yo

CHORUS X2

Posted on May 4, 2001, 10:34 PM

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I never had a.....

by S Club 7

Artist: S Club 7
Song: I never had a dream come true
sent by: DUNCBULL@aol.com (thanx)

ooh hoo yea
everybody's got something they had to leave behind
one regret from yesterday that just seems to grow with time
there's no use looking back oh wondering
how it could be now or might have been
oh this i know but still i can't find ways to let you go
i never had a dream come true till the day that i found you
even though i pretend that i moved on
you'll always be my baby
i never found the words to say your the one i think about each day
and i know no matter where life takes me to
a part of me will always be with you

somewhere in my memory i've lost all sense of time
and to my world can never be cuz yesterday is all that fills my mind
there's no use lookin back oh wondering
how it should be now or might have been
oh this i know but still i can't find ways to let you go
i never had a dream come true
till' the day that i found you
even though i pretend that i've moved on
you'll always be my baby
i never found the words to say
your the one i think about each day
and i know no matter where life takes me to
a part of me will always be...
you'll always be the dream that fills my head
yes you will say you will you know you will oh baby
you'll always be the one i know i'll never forget
there's no use lookin back oh wondering
because love is a strange and funny thing
no matter how i try and try i just can't say good-bye
no no no no
i never had a dream come true till the day that i found you
even though i pretend that i moved on you'll always be my baby
i never found the words to say
you're the one i think about each day
and i know no matter where life takes me to
a part of me will always be..
a part of me will always be with you
oohhhh hoooo

Posted on May 4, 2001, 10:33 PM

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Drop (Now Drop)

by Timbaland & Magoo f/Scoop

Artist: Timbaland and Magoo f/ Fatman Scoop
Album: Indecent Proposal
Song: Drop
Typed by: menace2society27@yahoo.com *
Sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

* send corrections to the typist

Timbaland Timbaland Fatman scoop
Timbaland Timbaland
Whatever I say y'all gotta do
Whatever I say y'all gotta do
Whatever I say y'all gotta do

(Timbaland)
Awww lord guess whos comming
Timbaland A.K.A freaky feel drumming
Who can get it crunk like me Timbaland
Oh my nigga Scoop A.K.A fat man
Weed guaranteed to make the party people bounce
Fellas say (OH) girls say(ah)
Lookin at the cornrows up in the club
Girl don't be bashfull girl back it up
Throw it girl like its poking man
Shake that ass as fast as you can
White girl shake it like she burning from a sun tan
My dog grip it grab it like it was a soda can
What you talking bout holding back
When you get on the dance floor drop it like it was a cadillac
What you talking bout cutting nigga slack
girl girl you betta bend that back
12 my girls roll deep in the club
Cant't wait to hit the bar and get that thug
Where my dogs that got more than a hundred bucks
Cant wait to freak one of the big old butts
Before we start to turn it out
you must learn to crunk out
Before we start to turn it out
You must first begin to

(Fatman Scoop)2x
Breathe in Breathe out
Breathe in Breathe out
Breathe in Breathe out
Now drop now drop now drop now drop

(Fatman Scoop)
If you got the fattest ass on the block now drop
Let a nigga see the coochie pop now drop
Do the snake do the freak do the pop now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop
Real eyes down south thighs
Waist line five six seven now drop
One time all in together now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop

(Magoo)
Get your freak on at club(?)
We aint put the album out niggas got their leak on
I done been up in the club seen a ho with a thong
I aint hear good at first she was singing the song
Shorty rocking donna she was pushing and popping
Red bone with a bop she was stoping and dropping
Stopping and dropping this the part of the song where
You need be snaking and popping
Snaking and popping yeah hoe Mag made the song
Yall niggas still popping and locking
Aint no zone (?) a white girl
I aint turbo rocking a damn curl
Watch Mag slow while I break you down slow
When you get it right girl go for what you know
Wiggle a bit stop drop get up snake freak whop
Wiggle a bit stop drop get up snake freak whop
Get off the wall hands of your balls
Yeah nigga with the drink in his hand trying to ball
You dont want shorty I can show you the dance
Gone once gone twice you done lost your chance
Now stop for Big Pun stop for Big pun
Drop for Big L drop for Big L

(Fatman Scoop)
If you got the fattest ass on the block now drop
Let a nigga see the coochie pop now drop
Do the snake do the freak do the whop now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop
Real eyes down south thighs
Waist line five six seven now drop
One time all in together now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop

(Magoo)
Guess who came with a cape on his back
Pulled up with some gin hopped out the Cadillac
Mag is chilling Tim is chilling
When I get up in this club I'm making a hoe feel it
Got no game but I got big cash
Mess around I be leaving this club with Stacey Dash
I aint cute enough but my jimmy got a flick and it shimmy
I'm in the club pulling hoes with Timmy

(Timbaland)
All my shadow people where freaky where you at
All my Broadway people freaky where you at
Where my fellas in the back with the (?)
Where my girls who think they got it like that
All my ndependent freaky where you at
All my get money dogs freaky where you at
Where my girls with the thongs who be shaking it fast
If you love to sing along nigga holla back

(Fatman Scoop)
If you got the fattest ass on the block now drop
Let a nigga see the coochie pop now drop
Do the snake do the freak do the whop now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop
Real eyes down south thighs Now drop
Waist line five six seven now drop
One time all in together now drop
Yo dont stop dont stop
Show me what you working with(back it up back it up)
Show me what you working with(back it up back it up)
Show me what you working with(back it up back it up)
Show me what you working with(back it up back it up)
Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over Bend over

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on May 4, 2001 10:38 AM

Posted on May 4, 2001, 9:41 AM

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Don't Save Her

by Project Pat

Artist: Project Pat f/ Crunchy Black
Album: Mista Don't Play
Song: Don't Save Her
Typed by: poohwildstyle@aol.com *
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com
* send corrections to the typist

Welcome to the Hypnotize zone
Today you'll hear the story of Russell Resthaven
And the day he tried to save his girlfriend
Here's the story

(Project Pat)

Man you won't believe what done happened to me now man

( )
What?

(Project Pat)

How did this nigga come round my way then fuck my bitch
But I'm gone kill him when he get off work tonight though

( )
Man fuck dat hoe man you can't be tryin to save that bitch
Man my nigga den housed a hoe to Brown Freesia

(Project Pat)

Man I spent cheese on her and everything
and I bought rangs and mo shit man
I'mma kill that nigga dat I'm goin marry

( )
You can't turn a hoe into a house wife man

(Project Pat)
I love her man
I love her man
It's mine man
I love her man
I gotta marry her man
I'mma marry her

(Chorus) 2x

Don't save her she don't wanna be saved
(Ain't nothin going on but the money and power)
Don't save her she don't wanna be saved
(Got one in the chamber for you weak ass coward)
Don't save her she don't wanna be saved

(Verse 1: Project Pat)
I'mma introduce me Project Pat I keep it real
I'mma introduce you you's a sucka faking deals
If you gonna let these freaky hoes run yo life
I don't understand how you turn a freak into a wife
I don't need to get why you be eating out her draws
You done bought the bitch a phone
Now you screamin in all the calls
It's about O-A.M. she ain't nowhere to be found
Some-where wit her friend dick in face and turned to ground
But you best save it last and you know that she'll go
Suckin dick, chewin cad, and I hear she on that blow
Did a line maybe two now she down to do the dew
Took her to the studio so she down to do the crew
I know just what to do
You can ask the hoe to leave
Once the bitch pack her shit
Hurry up and run them streets
Two things I ain't never in my life done seen before
It's a U.F.O or a hoe that wouldn't go

(Chorus) 2x

(Verse 2: Project Pat)
Jackie's simple
Jackie's quicker
Jackie likes to suck a dick-a
All she wanna do smoke a blunt get a drink of liquor
Lip-ah to the balls booty even enough to smell dodie
You be tryna save a sweater but you need the fuckin letter
Be the bitch she really is-a
Suck my dick you goin kiss her
Hating hoes try to dis her every nigga wanna hit her
Get her in the bed lay her down boots wanna fell
Call her up there nig man there's a way-a
She the star of the foota pussy wet real gooda
Camcorder caught on tape did I stutter man I should of
Fucked her in her mouth fast she be taking all cash
Keep my tank from Florida she pay for my gas
Ass for my nigga drop-a somewhere tryna watch her
Pregnant by another man but you wanna be the papa
Nut, come, but she crave-a backseat misbehava
You'll never get the bitch cause she wit that West Haven

(Chorus) 2x

(Verse 3: Crunchy Black)
Ain't nothin goin on but the money and power
Got one in the chamber fo you weak ass cowards
And I'm tired of you niggas goin saving dese bitches
Stop saving these hoes let another nigga get deep down in them draws
Take her over to my dogs so we can do her y'all
Everybody can do it let's just have a ball
Ain't nothin goin on but the money and power
Too many niggas out here cowards
They be saving dem hoes they be paying them hoes
But a nigga like me can not go
I'm be kickin in doos I be fuckin dese hoes
I be slamin em down like Dominoes
Bitch you didn't know it's CB bro
In and out dese hoes does like pole

Posted on May 3, 2001, 10:02 AM

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Missing You

by Case

Artist: Case
Song: Missing You
album: Open Letter
Typed by: eismeusee@aol.com
SENT BY: Lionthemad@theglobe.com

Standing here looking out my window
My nights are long and my days are cold
Cause I don't have you
How can I be so damn demanding?
I know you said that it's over now
But I can't let go

Every day I want to pick up the phone
And tell you that
You're everything I need and more
If only I could find you

Like a cold Summer afternoon
Like the snow coming down in June
Like a wedding without a groom
I'm missing you
I'm the desert without the sand
I'm the one without a band
I'm a ring without a hand
I'm missing you

Driving 'round thought I saw you pass me
My rearview mirror's playing tricks on me
Cause you fade away
Maybe I'm just hallucinating
Cause my loneliness got the best of me
And my heart's so weak

Every day I want to pick up the phone
And tell you that
You're everything I need and more
If only I could find you

Like a cold Summer afternoon
Like the snow coming down in June
Like a wedding without a groom
I'm missing you
I'm the desert without the sand
I'm the one without a band
I'm a ring without a hand
I'm missing you

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Said I'm, I'm missing you

Like a cold Summer afternoon
Like the snow coming down in June
Like a wedding without a groom
I'm missing you
I'm the desert without the sand
I'm the one without a band
I'm a ring without a hand
I'm missing you

Like a cold Summer afternoon
Like the snow coming down in June
Like a wedding without a groom
I'm missing you
I'm the desert without the sand
I'm the one without a band
I'm a ring without a hand
I'm missing you

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah....

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on May 3, 2001 10:06 AM

Posted on May 1, 2001, 10:02 PM

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Hi-Lo

by JT Money

Artist: JT Money
Album: Blood, Sweat & Years
Song: Hi-Lo
Typed by: tru2560@hotmail.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

Hit 'em (17x then to background of hook)

Hook: 2x

Hit 'em hiiiiiiiiiiiii
Hit 'em loooooooo

Verse 1:

I only drop the hotness
Don't see haters cause them suckers can't top this
Ain't nobody in da game who can stop this
When it come to wicked flow's you know I got this
Every time I drop this
I come like in a black ?
Ready to waste shit
You see them killers with me and them suckers jack quick
I put it down
Like this shit is too heavy
I let you know I'm coming, you still can't get ready
We blow a pound
Nigga fuck smoking them nickel bags
We big flossin'
All you clowns looking fag
Play crazy boy
Recline you like laz-e-boy
Fuck wit JT boy
You a see what a happen to ya
I ain't just rapping to ya, nigga it's on
I'm in dis bitch one mo gen claiming my throne
That playtime you suckers had is over with
JT Money in dis bitch
Nigga know dat shit

Hook: 4x

Hit 'em hiiiiiiiiiiiii
Hit 'em loooooooo

Verse 2:

I turn it off and on like light switches
Taking suckers out the game who ack just like bitches
I'm nice wit dis
Ain't no time for no sucker shit
You see a nigga violating better bust his dick
Got no luv for no snakes and no playa haters
Pushin' these fuck niggas buttons like they elevators
My shit too hot and I'm coming straight for yours
Fucking you up nigga like you at "The Source Awards"
Close shop, nigga don't stop playboy
? got game but I play none
Don't step out yo league into big tyme
Talking 'bout you wanna get mine
??? ??? time, nigga what
Bring the ruckus
Taking out these suckers
I keep saying that coz I mean it muthafuckers
You suckers and busters, I can see thru ya heart
You niggas scared of war
You don't want it to start

Hook: 4x

Hit 'em HIIIIIIIIIIII!
Hit 'em loooooooo

Verse 3:

Nigga, I'm taking no pity on these buster niggas and trick hoes
Stay on the grind, on the mound
Probing to git mo'
Now can you fuck wit da J?, shit no
You niggas know dat I'm gone win from the git go
So git yo-ass up out of my face
Who dat off brand nigga tryin' to get erased?
Going down baby boy
Money Man in dis bitch
Gotta problem wit dis shit
We can handle dis shit

Hook: 6x

Hit 'em HIIIIIIIIIIII!
Hit 'em loooooooo

Hit 'em (until fade)

Posted on May 1, 2001, 2:20 PM

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Lovin Me (Whatever you want, Whatever you need)

by Nelly

Artist: Nelly
Album: Country Grammar
Song: Luven Me
Typed by: LilWayn226@aol.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

Ay yo ma, how you doin, it's ya son now
And I picked up the mic and put the drugs down
Now I'm tryin to do some things that'll make you proud
Instead of everytime I call it's to bail me out
Oh why didn't I listen to things you used to tell me
Knowin that everything that you said would never fail me
Like 'they got plans for ya
Ain't nothin I can do when them laws get they hands on ya'
But I ain't listenin, even payin attention
I'm just tryna get mine
Takin advantage, you would get two jobs at the same time
Ungrateful, complainin about Nike and Polo signs
But you always come through, and what do I do
I wreck both ya cars, stole money from ya drawers
Sold dope out ya yard, stayed into with them laws
Tryin to pay you back for all the stress that I caused
And always be there to give you whatever you want

Hook: ()=Part Sampled, other part Nelly
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, I said whatever you need
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, I said you don't have to worry no more
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, uh, 'cause ya son will be there for you
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, uh

Now verse two, yeah that's for you boo
I send ya props 'cause you the only one that stuck through
When I'm upset and stressed you give me back rubs
When I'm depressed you give me head off in the bathtub, E-I!
On ya P's and Q's, on ya Q's and P's
You hear my beeper goin off and you just throw me my keys
Ain't even askin me yo is it coochie or G's
And for that reason now you can ask me for anything
Not a for real smoker but you choke with me
Not too hot about the drinkin but you toast with me
Livin at ya granny house you kept the dope for me
And wouldn't hesitate to go to court for me
Need money, my boo'll go and work the avenue
My boo'll fuck you up if I ask her to
That's why I do the things I do
And I will always be there to give you whatever you want

(Hook)
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, I said whatever you need
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, I said I don't wanna lose you no
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, uh, 'cause you're my boo and my only one
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
Uh, uh, uh

I'm doin this one here for Shaun Haynes, Lashando and J.D.
D Quick, Boo Gees and Fatty
My nigga Lil' Erv, Gino and Poochie
and everybody over on Euclid and Labade
Young Big Touch, Pooh and Big Baby
Rio, J.T. and Big Money
Herky Jerk, Wezz and Pea and Cody
J.E., K-Ug and Odie
Toe-Fa, M.J., and Cowlby
And all my soldiers down at Fair Ground on Monday
My Lunatic fam, Keyuan, Murphy Lee
City Spud, T-Love and Big Lee
Yellow Mack, Slow Down, Courtney B
The rest of my niggas up in the N.Y.C.
And without Trail, Cooter and Coach it just wouldn't be
And I will always be there to give you whatever you want

(Don't stop ever lovin me)
I said whatever you need
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
'Cause y'all my niggas for life you know
(Don't stop ever lovin me)
You can always smoke with me

Posted on Apr 30, 2001, 1:11 PM

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Till Hell Freezes Over

by Eminem

Artist: Eminem
Album: Detroit Underground 2000 Volume 2
Song: Till Hell Freezes Over
Typed by: eric420eric123@hotmail.com *

* send corrections to the typist

Yo yo yo yo yo (this is)
This is my motherfucking anthem (hip hop)
To hip hop music (anthem)
Cause I'm gonna keep doing hip hop music
until the day that I die (aight bitch)

Yo I'm into voodoo, tarot cards and ougji boards
Lighting candles camping out at haunted beach resorts
I write the dark shit, and rap about perverted violence
Ghost stories of people murdered on deserted islands
Dressed in jean shorts, high tops and tube socks
Holding a rifle, with a life full of drama like Tupac's
Jumping off roof tops drunk after i do shots
Landing in someone's backyard getting chewed up by two rocks (Rockweilers)
I got a new watch and two rings with huge rocks
This rap shit got cash coming out the blue like new tops
I use to sell pizza's, now i got twelve visa's
So tell jesus I'm gonna quit sending when hell freezes

[chorus]
That's why my brain is out of order
That's probley why my nights are getting colder and my day seems shorter
But as the world turns and I keep growing older
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes over
Bitch till hell freezes over
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes over
And as the world turns and i keep growing older
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes...over

Yo I use to be to heavy in that cruising rap shit crap
I think i fucked my head up listing to acid rap
I go to party's bumping nasty nas's new song
And smoke pot till I get high and i stare at shit for too long
Like this weed is laced aint, it taste tainted
Your whole place fainted, I woke up with my face painted
Spaced out like sci-fi t.v
Fuck ICP buy my cd
cause while I'm screaming while I'm handing out promo tapes of my debut
telling bitches let me eat your pussy while I shave you
Aint no shame in my game I turn the party out
Making everybody shout for the rapper with potty mouth

[chorus]
That's why my brain is out of order
That's probley why my nights are getting colder and my day seems shorter
But as the world turns and i keep growing older
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes over
Bitch till hell freezes over
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes over
And as the world turns and i keep growing older
I be living this hip hop till hell freezes...over

Uh, uh uh uh uh
Ah ah ah ah
Uh uh uh uh
Ah ah ah ah
Uh uh uh uh(Dr.dre)
Ah ah ah ah(Slim shady) (Outsiders)

Posted on Apr 27, 2001, 7:10 PM

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I Cry

by Ja Rule f/ Lil' Mo

Artist: Ja Rule f/ Lil' Mo
Album: Rule 3:36
Song: I Cry
Typed by: ice_man504@yahoo.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

[Lil' Mo] (Chorus)
When I cry, you cry
We cry, together
Said I cry, you cry
We cry, together
Said I cry, you cry
We cry, together
Said I cry, you cry
We cry, together

[Ja Rule]
I love my life, I love my wife
A bad time to prevail, it overwhelmed me
I'm livin in hell but livin wealthy
And know these hoes love me
Because I'm a star
I can't even cop a drink at the bar
Get me some bottles of that Remi Mar-tin
Let's get the party
Cracking right here fuck V.I.P
Now when my baby loves me
Home wit tears in her eyes
And when I get in, I hurt her more by tellin her lies
She ain't surprise at me
Just surprised that we
Been together for this long
And I can be
The one to mistreat her
Thought it last forever
Cuz if I cry, you cry
We cry together

[Chorus]

[Ja Rule]
From, what I recall we was little niggas
Cuttin school gettin high wit da hottest bitches
Livin, life so free
That we ain't fearin
The, ills of the world
In heat of drug dealin
You and I then made a killin
And tuck together
I this land of forbidden treasure
Love is the only evil seed that could sever
A tied this close
Not the love between us but your love for the dough
You went O.T started makin M-O-N-E-Why
All my good niggas gotta die
But shit could last forever
I wish death was pleasure
Cuz when you die
I cried, we cried together

[Chorus]

[Ja Rule]
Wash away your tears (my love)
You ain't gotta cry no more (my love)
I'm putting on everything out (my love)
And my pain it's my love
And I want
This world to smile for me
Don't shed a tear cuz the nigga died happily
My momma warned me life was a muthafucka
But I ignored the warning and kept on hustlin
And every night she just looked at me
Tears in her eyes and they be saying shit like
"I don't want me baby to die"
Brought so much pain into a life
Gotta make it better
Cuz when ma cried I cried
We cried together

[Chorus]

[Lil' Mo]
Oooooohhhh
You cry, then I cry
Then we cry
When he cries
I cry together, together
When I cry, then you cry
Then we'll cry, together
Baby, cuz when
Ja cries, Mo cries
We'll cry, together
If he cry, I'll cry
Then we'll cry, together

Posted on Apr 26, 2001, 11:22 AM

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That's not Hot (Hot)

by KRS-One

Artist: KRS-One
Album: The Sneak Attack
Song: Hot
Typed by: jostmatt@bluewin.ch
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

Yeah
Who will be standing when the smoke clears?

(KRS-One) --> Redman

Word up!
What's up with this?
We're coming through
Boogie Down style, kid
What's up
This is KRS-One
The light at the end of the tunnel

Yo, they not HOT, all they do is talk a lot
That's not HOT, where's your respect on the block?
That's HOT, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not HOT, a real MC you're not
I'm HOT, been hot, repeatedly heated
Don't call the teacher, hah, you best be seated
You got these kids gased up like you own the inventory
Fake muthafuckas ain't tellin the whole story
Tell em how you borrow from everyone you knew
And now that you're on top, they can't borrow from you
That's not hot, tell em how you love bein pop
Cause you was so broke before, sleepin cold on a cot
You don't rock, you grab money
Your crocks rock the spot and you grab them honeys
It's about to get ugly
I don't even go to these bullshit kiddie-ass clubs
You wanna be a thug? Let's thug
First of all, soldiers speak to soldiers
Captains speak to captains
Lieutenant/lieutenant, cool?
But your first mistake is: he's steppin to me, rookie
Like you a O.G. and you just a run-up, fool
Who really got these streets on lock?
Whose name really holds high respect on the block?
Who opened up these clubs and taught you how to mix?
Who opened up these thugs from Compton to the Bricks?
I don't even sound like the rest of you kiddies
I study the ways of God, you studyin titties
And ass, I pity your class
Cause you come out with a blast
But you're trash, so you really don't last

They not HOT, all they do is talk a lot
That's not HOT, where's your respect on the block?
That's HOT, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not HOT, a real MC you're not
They not HOT, all they do is talk a lot
That's not HOT, where's your respect on the block?
That's HOT, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not HOT, a real MC you're not
This is hotter than heat, too deep, I'm on top of the streets
You weak, you ain't really rockin these beats
You ?????, you dress straight, eat straight
But you're a slave, and yo, you can't come up in a heat tank
G-o-d we thank, we watch what we sell
You better hope these Christians are wrong cause you goin to hell
Think about that when you're spittin your raps
And you call out KRS, I'll put you flat on your back
You're not HOT, all you do is talk a lot
That's not HOT, where's your respect on the block?
That's HOT, not cause you're friends with the cops
That's not HOT, a real MC you're not
What's HOT?
(KRS-One)
That's HOT!
What's HOT?
(KRS-One)
That's HOT!
Who's HOT?
(KRS-One)
That's HOT!
Where's your respect on the block?
[ scratching of ]
(KRS-One need to be runnin for office
So Butta-Pican Rican, tell em to get off it) --> Redman

Posted on Apr 26, 2001, 11:18 AM

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Father

by Bizzy Bone

Artist: Bizzy Bone
Album: The Gift
Song: Father
Typed by: pat_suave@yahoo.com *
sent by: Lionthemad@theglobe.com

* send corrections to the typist

We all so scared cause its, its war everywhere, you know
War everywhere

(Chorus)
How many friends will we see die? (Why we so scared cause it's war everywhere)
How many friends will we see cry? (It's war everywhere)
How many friends will we see try? (Why we so scared cause it's war everywhere)
How many friends will we see die? (It's war everywhere)

All we need is a little love, and someone standing for the little cubs
And I see brutality all over niggas killin' niggas
The ghetto got them being born to be killas
Flooded with drugs and tryin to get us, so get up
But don't give up, ya'll gotta sit up
If you last before they kill us
And the guerillas, try come kill us
Pillage the village and we'll be winna
I love it when niggas the way we took it to another level
So many rebels doing the best shit forever remembered
And in the killing fields, everybody's locked up
And good niggas getting shot up da dadan dada
Mind if I say something for mine
Cause it's about time, to get serious
A mysterious time, blind melons
It ain't no telling, if the willing
Will stop chillin', then help the children
Turning them out, then burning them out
Like morphine, waters getting shallow
It's over and over the gallow
A president in the drop, it's on now though
The end of life, for now so
I think it's the ozone, bad to the bone bone
Mother Nature be long gone
And don't nobody wanna do nothing but speculate
And all they worried about their own
Wrote a song for the future
Millenium, I'm in, I'm hopeing it don't last untill we all past
Living in the stars, looking through grass
Aboard the enterprise, recognize this, in the course of a da-da-da-da-da-da-day
And thats the way we sing, thats the way we play
that's the way they . . now and

[Chorus 2X]

Still got bombs from the cold war, radioactive
And the critics, they wont take action
They want us to repo this to your satisfaction
But while they build more, computers keep crashing
What about felling, pestilence dammit
How do we manage to keep standing
Living in a legacy of bitterness
With the epitimy of vigorous trips on the ships we were crammed in, slammed in
Other man and them, why don't we demanding our damn money
If we can't get forty acres and a mule, let a nigga get a range rover
Shit you got time you, I'm still waiting on a canoe, but it will never come
I don't even know where I come from or where I'm gonna go to
I'm headed to the mother land, but will I be accepted by the brotha man?
Awww me so confused, with nothing to gain and everything to lose, choose
The righteous and the high, look in the eyes and realize the lies
Family ties, but not even for the have-nots
Who the enemy? It ain't me. It ain't even the police
Unless they trippin', and use that authority and start flippin', flippin'
Leaving dead bodies, and with them bitchin' hotties
That poppin' the collar, my god I'm horny, ride shotty
And tellin' the kids that ain't the way to live properly
Get yo monopoly and get your own property
And that's the way we sing, and that's the way we play
and that's the way they . . . now and

[Chorus 2X]

Ooooh and the daddies and momma forgivin' so we can live with us
And all the runaways get off the bus
Kids, put the guns down, come down
If the rest build a bridge with us, it gotta get better than this
It's head of the risk, shoulda been poor, and I been rich
Lost so many friends to the war shit, caution
When I get to walkin', and it's mobbin', nigga in a crypt
Life is a fight to the street life, tonight
I might go meet the reaper, and I will give him a hug
And tell him "Thug luv won and I'm so glad to meet ya"
And that's the way we sing, and that's the way we play
and that's the way they . . . now and

[Chorus to fade]

Posted on Apr 24, 2001, 1:44 PM

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Lick Shots

by Missy

Artist: Missy 'Misdemeanor' Elliot
Album: Lick Shots 12" *
Song: Lick Shots
Typed by: 03rff@williams.edu
sent by: lionthemad@theglobe.com

* immediately follows "Get Ur Freak On" in the video

[Missy]
Ugh, Ay yo Timberland, see what they don't understand
Is we about to flip our whole style on ‘em for two double zero one (Ay!)
And for those of you who hated (Ay!)
You only made us more creative

[Timberland]
Misdemeanor Ugh!

[Missy]
You don't wanna speak my name
Mess around get that ass blown away
Blaaah!
Fool gone away
I didn't even like your tail anyway
Missy got somethin' to say
I ride down the block in an escalade
Bling bling all in your face
I think you might need to put on your shades
Blaaah!
I know you feel me tho
You hatin' on me, but you hear me tho
Twenty inch rims sittin' crazy low
AAAAHHHHHHH! I'm a crazy ho
I'm a keep the party live
Me and Timbaland gonna flip it tonight
Keep yo hands in the sky
Wave ‘em round like your crazy high

[Chorus]
Hugh!
Time to lick shots
Time to see you dance
Hey you, why you frontin'
Blaaah!
Time to lick shots
Time to see you dance
Hey you, why you frontin'
Blaaah!

[Missy]
You don't know who I be
You mammy tell you not to fuck wit me
If I give you head, you'll never leave
Raaah!
Stop sweatin' me
Flip it on the black hand side
Look it here boy, don't you even try it
Make me dislocate your spine
My rings put your shine like turpentine
What you comin' around hang out fo?
Baby him know, you just want my dough
Get cha black ass on the flo
Fool touch me, that's a no no
Raaah!
Mr. DJ won't you play that song
Tell the freaks shake they nasty thongs
Hey boys won't you sing along
Cause we gone rock the party til' the early morn

[Chorus]
Y'all don't hear me (hot)
You got your guns but you don't scare me (ooooooh)
Originality is leary (ugh)
My only style and I ain't sharin' (back up, back up…easy now)
Hey Y'all (hot)
Let's turn it up and tear the club down (ugh)
Grab your drinks and give me two rounds (zooooo)
I'll break you off I'm goin' down down
Watch yourself, I'm about to turn it up

[Chorus]

[Music plays a little]

[Chorus]

[Music fades until end]

Posted on Apr 24, 2001, 1:44 PM

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I Like Dem Girls

by Tyrese

Artist: Tyrese
Song: I Like Dem Girls
Album: 2000 Watts
censyremmb@hotmail.com

I like them girls
I like them girls
I like them girls
I like them girls

Verse: I
I get a call from my crew this weekend
Talkin' bout a party say it's gone be crackin'
Since I'm pushin'
I tell them push the new Benz
'Cause when it's over it's straight parkin' lot pimpin'
Once I find my keys to the ride
Hit the spot around 11:45
'Cause everybody knows that's when it gets hot
Tonight I'm gonna find a little shorty gor a player to cop

Hook:
I need a hot girl for me (girl for me)
Sexy little mommy (mommy)
Knows how to turn me on
Freak me from the night til the early morn
A girl that knows just what she wants (what she wants)
When she sees a baby girl (front no)
Hair fly nails done
Look like she got one
That's the kind I like

Hook:
I like dem girls between the sheets
I like dem girls iced up like me
I like dem girls in the fly Gucci
Rollin deep in the "6" Cartier on the Wrist
I like em'thick
Small waist with the big 'ol hips
I like dem girls in the Bentley
That's the kind of girl I need

Verse:II
Out the corner of my eye spot a shorty
Ice so bright baby lightin'up the party
She got the Prada fittin' right on her body
36-24 how could I let it pass me
I approached her with the game on tight (game on tight)
This the type of flavor I like (flavor I like)
She said what's up with later tonight (later tonight)
I'm gonna do whatever feels right
To you

Hook:
I need a hot girl for me
Sexy little mommy
Knows how to turn me on
Freak me from the night to the early morn
When she see a baby girl (front no)
Hair fly nails done
Look like she got one
That's the kind I like

Chorus: 2x
I like dem girls between the sheets
I like dem girls iced up like me
I like dem girls in the fly Gucci
Rollin' deep in the "6" Cartier on the wrist
I like em thick
Small waist with the big 'ol hips
I like dem girls in the Bentley
That's the kind of girl I like

(Tyrese Says soome6thing)

Hook

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 24, 2001 1:49 PM

Posted on Apr 23, 2001, 11:07 PM

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**Unreleased

by Jay-Z

Artist: Jay-Z
Album: **Never on a album
Song: In My Lifetime (Original Mix)
Typed by: i3omb1st@aol.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

[Jay=Z]
This song here..
.. is dedicated to Danny Dan, and may he rest in peace
Who at his funeral left us with the words that
he did it his way (uh-huh, uh-huh)
So, I have no other choice but to do it my way
Uh-huh, uh-huh

Uhh! While niggaz are shootin stupid
I'm carefully plottin, ways to make it rotten
Well planned hits until you're long forgotten
Y'all niggaz that utilize my style don't hurt me, cause on the low
half of these rappin-ass niggaz wanna work for me
Now picture me standin on somebody block tryin to rock
I drop bombs and niggaz see me with that dough by eight o'clock
My feet never touch the concrete, just street sweep awards
While you're starin on my dick nigga, gimme yours!
I don't hassle with capsules cause that'll make the grass grow
and get a project nigga paid up the asshole
if I'ma risk a frisk, gettin my wrists wrapped up in steel
I'm out here tryin to make a mill', my shit is real for real
While others worship guns I worship tons of money
tons of fun, laughin at shit that ain't even funny
So I ain't pressed to make a CD, I took it slow
Eighty percent of these niggaz with deals
can't see me with the dough, uhh!

Chorus: Jay-Z

In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough (for real!)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash (stay real!)
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of dough
I need a whole lot of dough *
In my lifetime, I need to see a whole lot of stash
I need a whole lot of cash

*1: (for real!)
*2: (true!)
*3: (true!)

[Jay-Z]
More ice than winter ninety-four
I toured the fifty states with a trunk of raw
Recrutin, I'm hittin shortiess with consignment, but don't play me
Ohh you gon' pay me, y'all niggaz ain't crazy!
I'm laid back in the five thousand Italian leather seat recliner
under some vagina, discussin the finer, things
My crib is mean, watchin a hundred inch screen
Lettin the shorties slide by once in a while and let em dream
They think I've mastered the game cause dames scream my name
with passion, I tell em stop flashin and start stashin
And we'll all get off the corner, the only heat you'll feel
is from a sauna, lettin bubbles shoot up your ass if you wanna
And fuck that weed, it keeps you broke, invest in
pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope
But keep your nuts cause this is a man's game
And we'll all pop champagne til it's a damn shame

Chorus

[Jay-Z]
I'm shootin to Vegas gamblin green-o at the casino
Schoolin the dice like Vinny Barberino
Welcome back, the ninety-four version of the mack
As soon as these ladies see me they don't know how to act
Cause like that, nigga, never twist the cap of malt liquor
Only pop and droppin Cristal's down my throat, take a swigga
My style, ladies intoxicated by my profile
Your rollin with a pro with, money to blow child
You need to feel how sweet the skills be
to come and slide down Sugar Hill with me
The high roller, rolled up on your dice game
Unfold a pack of bills, grab my balls then bet it all
I never slept, cause sleepin keeps you deep in debt
On the block you lucky if you see my silhouette
I'm ghost, envied by most
So I keep a crew of crazy tenants that's sling toast, fucker

Chorus

[Jay-Z]
Haha, f'real! Jay-Z lives
Ski, Roc-a-Blok Productions, uh-huh, uh-huh
Dame Dash.. ha-ha
Roc-a-fella Records.. uh-huh
Everybody from Brooklyn
Sauce Money, Big Sarge, B Hah
DJ Clark Kent, everybody Uptown
my V-A click running thick
D'Shawn definitly in the house
Roughness y'all, this how we do

Posted on Apr 23, 2001, 2:19 PM

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Uptown

by Young Turk f/ B.G.

Artist: Young Turk f/ B.G.
Album: Baller Blockin soundtrack
Song: Uptown
Typed by: shakaramh1@hotmail.com *
SB: rassfan@hotmail.com
* send corrections to the typist

C'mon
Whoa
Hot, Hot
(B.G.) Wassup Lil Turk
Hot, Hot
(B.G.) Let em know what's happening with you nigga
Let em know what's happening

[Young Turk]
Look...
Can u picture a lil nigga like me straight thuggin
Hotter than fire, hotter than something that's in the oven
The G - Code, i live by everyday
Bitch nigga outta line, bitch nigga get erased
Like chalk boards
Look here my nigga, I mean what I speak
Nigga want beef, i rip down both sides of the streets
I got niggas like Big Woo who a ride with me
Trailer ducking, Waldo too, a ride with me
I'm bout beefing, creeping, whateva
In any kinda weather act a fool with the desert
Pumping in bare, look, my niggas we thugged out
Quick to run up in your house and clear everybody out
Know what I'm talking bout
You don't you better find out
Cause i leave your folks in all black, crying and whined out
I don't play cousin, I give niggas head shots
Not one, a couple of em, making sure that he drop
Look here nigga

[Chorus: B.G.]
Nigga you must don't know his background, background
He been a lil donkey straight from Uptown,
Nigga you must don't know his background, background
He been a lil donkey nigga, from Uptown,
Nigga you must don't know his background, background
He been a lil donkey out that 'Nolia Uptown,
Nigga you must down know his background, background
He been a lil donkey nigga, from Uptown

[Young Turk]
I'm tired a telling you niggas bout fucking with me
What you think I'm bitch made? Keep on and you'll see!
You can make me go off if you want, and get your issue
Face be on the picture, your relatives gon' miss you
Nigga, i never talk twice
If a nigga get down bad with me, I'm a show him I aint nothing nice
I aint gon' buck I'm a keep it on the tuck
Catch you with ya head down, then I'm jamming you up
You cou

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 23, 2001 2:20 PM

Posted on Apr 22, 2001, 9:51 AM

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We Know

by Cappadonna f/ Da Brat

Artist: Cappadonna f/ Da Brat, Jermaine Dupri
Album: The Yin and the Yang
Song: We Know
Typed by: andreas@graficonn.no *
SENT BY: rassfan@hotmail.com
* send corrections to the typist

We know the game, like we know time
We know biz, like we know crime
we know a tech, like we know a dime
We know fat, like we know whack
And how to make a dope stack
We know, we know

This years money and thug affiliation
Wu-Tang Clan, Dupri colabiration.
AT ya'll?, New York, real live creation.
No busters, niggah what no imitations.
If one things not for cash and gold rings
it's real shit you can feel shit, no basin'.
Hot bitches are rich, plenty ass chasin'
This be that bomb shit, stop player hatin

We know the game, like we know time
We know biz, like we know crime
We know a trick, like we know a dime
We know fat, like we know whack
And how to make a dope stack
We know, we know

We know bad, like we know good
We know the wold, like we know the hood
We know young, like we know old
We know platnum, like we know gold
And how to get the fat dough
We know, we know

We know how to blow this weed, how to toke it up, take a smoke with us
Ya'll wanna get a hold of me, if you let me of, we know how to pressno
Get fucked up, cant you tell by the way I talk
It's the bitch in me that dwells from my head to my socks
(queen when I crock?), pop any niggah like, red (buck?)
I like sexiest crop more than ever, no mather how you wait, n' I seen us pray.
And when I slay niggah's, I butaly burn'em
I turn them into church goers, then they'll die by serving?
Pray for all ya, run for cover, When a disaster is behind us
on the lose like mine and passing others?
Dust, cuz we dont give a fuck about him.
Were's the blunts, we can't live without'em.
We know how to get the money and hussle, we know
how to split a niggah dawg, for fucking over they're dough.
We know, not to let a motherfuckah get to close
Cuz in this world we know, there aint shit free so why work niggah?

We know the game, like we know time
We know biz, like we know crime
We know a trick, like we know a dime
We know fat, like we know whack
And how to make a dope stack
We know, we know

We know bad, like we know good
We know the wold, like we know the hood
We know young, like we know old
We know platnum, like we know gold
And how to get the fat dough
We know, we know

We know this trouble, like we know hoes
We know the style, like we know clothes
We count bank, can we get dough.
What? Money and fast cars
we cant let it go, Dupri and cappadonna kid
We got the flow, shot callers
ya better be low, so what's on player?
Your money with the Wu, it's all about paper.
What the fuck you wanna do, champagne all night.

We know the Streets, like we know heat
We know what's right, like we love ice
We know what's ill, like we're getting bills
What? know what's love, like it's love is love
Push, come the shove.

What's ya'll gonna go with this shit?
Yeah, play it, it's the Wu.
Four of us buyers, money on the lable
No fucking around, Gats on the table
Getting money for life, That's how you say it's stable

We know the game, like we know time
We know biz, like we know crime
We know a trick, like we know a dime
We know fat, like we know whack
And how the make a dope stack
We know, we know

We know bad, like we know good
We know the wold, like we know the hood
We know young, like we know old
We know platnum, like we know gold
And how to get the fat dough
We know, we know

Posted on Apr 20, 2001, 9:35 PM

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We Need a Resolution

by Aaliyah f/ Timberland

ARTIST: Aaliyah
sONG: We Need a Resolution
SENT BY: ghettolova2k@thesource.com

Verse - 1
Did you sleep on the wrong side?
I'm catching a bad vibe
And it's contagious, What's the latest?
Speak your heart, Don't bite your tongue
Don't get it twisted, Don't misuse it
What's your problem?
Lets resolve it
We can solve it, What's the causes?
It's official, You got issues
I got issues, but I know I miss you

Chorus - 1
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Who should be blamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Who should be ashamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Will we remain?
You need a resolution, I need a resolution,
We need a resolution, We have so much confusion.

Verse - 2
I want to know: Where were you last night?
I fell asleep on the couch, I thought we were going out
I want to know: Were your fingers broke?
If you had let me know, I wouldn't have put on my clothes
I want to know: Where'd you go instead?
Cause it was 4 in the morning, When you crept back in the bed
I want to know: What was in your head?
Or what was in my head? Am I supposed to change?

Chorus - 2
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Who should be blamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Who should be ashamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? And will we remain?
You need a resolution, I need a resolution,
We need a resolution, We have so much confusion.

Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? and who should be blamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Who should be ashamed?
Am I supposed to change? Are you supposed to change?
Who should be hurt? Will we remain?
You need a resolution, I need a resolution,
We need a resolution, We have so much confusion.

Bridge - Aaliyah
Baby let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)
You'll let me know, You'll let me know (I will)

Rap - Timbaland
Girl holla!!
You give me bits and pieces
You tryna blame me when I don't even know the reason
I think it's just the season, Maybe the month, Maybe the building
Now tell me what's the reason? Stupid yo? Looks are deceiving
So, cut the crying, Cut the coughing, Cut the weazing, Girl
Quit the blaming, Cut the naming, Cut the sleeping, Girl
I think you need some prayer, Better call the deacon, Girl
So, get your act right or else we won't be speaking, Girl
So, what's it gonna be? Fikifiki... Me and you?
Or is it gonna be who blames who?
I'm tired of these things, I'm tired of these scars
I think I'm gonna get me a drink, I'll call you tomorrow

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 24, 2001 1:47 PM

Posted on Apr 19, 2001, 5:41 PM

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Playa's gon' Play

by 3LW

Song: Playas Gon Play
Artist: 3LW
Album: 3LW
sent by: ghettolova2k@thesource.com
(thanx yo)

Naturi:
I don't mind, what people say or do
But I do mind, what you believe is true
You are the only one getting all my love
Cause what they do, ain't nothing new

Chorus:
Playas they gon play,
And haters they gonna hate.
Ballers they gon ball,
Shot callers they wanna call
That ain't got nothin to do
With me and you, thats the way it is, thats the way it is

Naturi:
So, called friends, don't wanna see me with you
Behind your back, callin my cell and pager too.
No matter what they do, I will stay true
Only to you, only to you.

Chorus 2x

Naturi & Adrienne

I want you to know ( I want you to know)
I'll never let you go (I'll never let you go)
We gotta talk about everything you hear cause you know that it ain't true
You can trust my love and I can trust yours too
Our love, will be forever
Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yeahhhhhhh, yeahhhhh, yeahhhh, yeaahh, yeah

Chorus until fade out

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 20, 2001 9:42 PM

Posted on Apr 19, 2001, 5:35 PM

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Dem Thangs

by Angie Martinez

Artist: Angie Martinez f/ Q-Tip
Album: Up Close and Personal
Song: Dem Thangz
Typed & sent by: ghettolova2k@thesource (thanx yo)

[Chorus: Q-Tip]
Girl, you gotta move dem thangz, dem thangz
I wanna see you move dem thangz, dem thangz
In the hood dawg, you know they move dem thangz, dem thangz
Cause ain't a damn thing changed man, they move dem thangz
(yeah, it's my thang)
[A] Yeah, I know how to move it.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[Q] I know how to do it.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[A] I know how to move it man.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[Q] And I know how to do it

[Angie Martinez]
Yo, whoo!
Step up in the club like "Who up in here?"
Linda Carter with the world premier, watch out now!
Shit ain't clear, cause Hova got me open on the Belvedere
Yeah, settin it real good feelin proper
Checkin out the nigga with the Gucci parka, like
Uh-huh, okay, whassup?
It's a luv-a-dub, and it's your world
I'm a choosy girl
but we can dance to the dawn like Lucy Pearl
Cause you got that thang thang
And we can do big thangz, but go, easy
Like I told you before, cause I don't wanna hurt you pah.. huh
And the name is Angela
And ain't too many niggaz that can handle her, it's true

[Chorus]

[Angie Martinez]
Uhh, since the start of it all
Standin alone, claimin my own, y'know?
Little that, little this
Cop a couple pieces to cover my little wrists
Prayin while they hopin they sayin my shit'll miss
Man listen, it's, my, thang I'm, well connected
Pull dem strings and I'm, not new
On the block for a minute
And I, won't stop 'til I get it, get it
Comin widdit like the Punisher
Gettin all up in your stomach uhh.. huh, my bad
Gettin focused now
Lot of niggaz in the club wanna poke us now
But, back it up baby nice and slow
Cause I roll with a whole lot of G.I. Joe's
In the cut camoflauged with they eyes on me
while I, move, my thang, c'mon

[Chorus]

[Angie Martinez]
Yo.. I, come through - doin what I do
Niggaz buggin out like, "Who the fuck knew?"
Same chick from the radio dial
Same one from the summer jam, gettin 'em wild
But now my niggaz it's a new day
BK always like Biggie doin "Jui-cy"
Iced out like David Blaine
What's it all about baby IT'S, MY, THANG

[A] Yeah, I know how to move it.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[Q] I know how to do it.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[A] I know how to move it man.. (yeah, it's my thang)
[Q] And I know how to do it (yeah, it's my thang)

[Chorus]

[A] Yeah, I know how to move it..
[Q] I know how to do it..
[A] I know how to move it man..

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 20, 2001 9:45 PM

Posted on Apr 19, 2001, 5:33 PM

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My Baby

by Lil Romeo

Artist: Lil Romeo
Song: My Baby
typed by: lil_julliet85@hotmail.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

Hotline
May I request a song
yeah
"My Baby" by lil Romeo giggling
you got it

oh Romeo give me a chance
unt unh Tiegin I don't need a girlfriend
walk me home from school anyway
ha ha O.K.
oh Romie your the cutes boy I know
I know I know
so let me be your girlfriend

They call me lil P, I represent the CP3
Calliyo ya heard me, straight from New Orleans
Gotta Uncle named Silkk and a Uncle named C
I been dribbling the ball since the age of 3
I got game like Coby, dunk it like Poppa P
Once I'm in the zone ain't no stoppin' me
you can jumpa baby humma girls be jockin' me
humilaouet NO Limit yet from head to feet
Bridge:
It's like that worday (got me crazy)
It's like that worday (wanna be your lady)
It's like that worday (want you to be my baby)
It's like that worday (can't no girl fade me)
we at the skatin rink

Oh, Romeo give me a chance
(unt unh Tiegin I don't need a girlfriend)
Walk me home from school anyway
(ha ha Okay)
Oh, Romie your the cutest boy I know
(I know, I know)
So let me be your girlfriend

11 years old, makin' A's and B's
and these lil mommy's can't keep their hands off me
when you see in the streets holla what's up doc
I gotta a bugs bunny chain wit a matchin' watch
I make you jump like Kris Kross, bounce like Bow
I'm the next generation, I came to lock it down
I'm a little boy, but live a big man's life
I got girls passin' up wanna be my wife
I got grown women wanna be in my life
by the time I'm 18 I'm not gon be nothin' nice
I'm that R-O-M-E-O, after high school
I'm goin' straight to the pro's bounce,bounce

Oh Romeo give me a chance
(unt unh Tiegin I don't need a girlfriend)
walk me home from school anyway
(ha ha Okay)
Oh Romie your the cutest boy I know
(I know, I know)
So let me be your girlfriend

Well boy I want u to myself
I don't want them girls around
Your the flyest thing up in here boy
and that's why it's goin down
I heard they call you Romeo
Well I'm your Julliet
u must be good at hide and seek
cause boy ur hard to catch

Oh Romeo give me a chance
(unt unh Tiegin I don't need a girlfriend)
walk me home from school anyway
(ha ha Okay)
Oh Romie your the cutest boy I know
(I know I know)
so let me be your girlfriend

(oh Romeo)
why you boys make them elbows swing
why you girls make them elbows swing
repeat 9x's

Romeo gonna do dat thang, Romeo gonna do dat thang
Romeo gonna do dat thang, Romeo gonna do dat thang

(throw em up get em up throw em up get em up throw em up get em up what)
(Master P while saying this is for the fly girls......)
why you boys make them elbow swing why u girls make them elbows swing)

(Girls)
this is for the fly girls that punk them
(Boys)
this is for the fly boys that punk them

(Girls)
this is for the fly girls that's bout it bout it
(Boys)
this is for the fly boys that's bout it bout it

(Together)
Make em sweat,make em sweat
make em sweat,make em sweat
make em sweat,make em sweat
That's all folks

Posted on Apr 19, 2001, 11:57 AM

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**Unreleased

by Nas, Foxy Brown, AZ

Artist: Nas, Foxy Brown, AZ & Nature (The Firm)
Album: was only availble as a b-side to a single*
Song: La Familia
*= never released on a full album

Verse One: Foxy Brown

Ill Na Na cap 'em, the Firm team can stop 'em
36 moves, 37 ways triple days triple pays
Na Na, Fox Boogie Firm momma, kineiver
Lady Gadiva, like Scarlet whichever O'Hara
It's hazardous, we lays the lazarus
Dip and probably find her behind the liner, three na na
So what the deal, God I kill for these three for real
You soar cause you bustin' off shit to get ya rocks off
The therough, the crime organized mad deniro
And six point one five desero like hero'
Team let's roll on 'em, watch 'em turn bitch
'Mega stole on 'em, that's how we play this
I slay this, copped the pair of fours fucked the draws
Really, his pretty had the nigga leary
Mad dipped in, Nas you flipped this
Sos with VSO's twisted, from seperate the real from the fucked up
We switch up, I gave the stroke though
Ill skin color coco, we loco love is love talk the tre` ocho
Status Illmatic, whatever raw dealer for real-a
Baby girl, yet it's La Familia
I die in a minute for 'em, so side dipped
The four poin six range rover the feelin' over
From Castilano to Columbo, easy the Genevezy
Firm stay jigged in trash and pass, I swear
You know the lose there, straight cop threes
Can't knock thees and drop threes, we cop cheese

Verse Two: Nature

Peace and diagnosis, properly supply the dosage
Leave them stuck like parol niggaz and breathes the focus
Nigga when I squeeze ya pleads is hopeless, we wet though
I jet from the block, niggaz can spot me like UFO's
Dressed the low, jumped in the Q front for who?
No need to stress it though, smokin' my dope countin' decimals
Recognize this, real thugs respect violence
The 1-9-9-6, some are rather dry snitch
Coruptfully, my whole team recieve ???? to be
Some are spare guns, shootin' fair ones in the public streets
Believe the worst, so it seems the whole team is cursed
We totured, drain the whole heat and squeeze first
Never ending tales, when niggaz fall but some prevail
They fake, callin' us together like four Navy war seals
Must I start pullin' jooks or place my trust in God
Force to cover my face, cameras held the case can solve
Ya faith disolves when hump against the next coming
For now I focus on Nature, bet I win something

Verse Three: Nas Escobar

I die for my niggaz, stick you for pies and lie for my niggaz
Plead guilty and get the chair and fry for my niggaz
It's essential that we all is there like ya mental
We've been through life, cold blood living simple
Though we learned from old dogs that made it, peeped who they played it
We rated and then evaluated, calculated age is weepy
The days that we see chips freely, beyond whips and TVs
Stock bonds, Lou flipped the CDs
Niggaz hate to see you on top, they'd rather be you what not
I keep the dessert evil poncot, spot the Vickidees guy quick
While poppin' shit that leave ya shot quicker than a hop skip
Specialize in fly shit, bs on my breath while niggaz gossip
On the tostic, I'm on some doe or die shit

Verse Forus: Az the Vizuliza

Check my lingo and all the white ice that make my rings glow
I've seen doe, got a dime wife who Sandimingo
Face it it's mathematics, basics far from fake shit
My mind is sacred, my spins shine like a cuban braclet
Egyptian pharoah, roll the coke that used to give me powder
Now I enhale from ???? buckshots through my double barrel
Beneath the town is how it's sounds travels, so what have you?
Keep minds bests, never stopping until they grab you
Used to bust shit down wit' test stocks and trust funds
Cheese and CDs so my seed can so touch some, the foulness
I once provoked is now behind me, it gonna take more than sellin' coke
To now to bind me, you had me thinkin' I got to push leek
To keep from sinking, that can out way life
That keep live niggaz from linkin', I saw it coming
That's why slowed down from from dumbin', most of my crew was runnin'
Can't even afford a summons

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 17, 2001 3:28 PM

Posted on Apr 17, 2001, 3:25 PM

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**Unreleased

by Charli Baltimore

Artist: Charli Baltimore f/ Mase
Album: not on one*
Song: Ice
Typed by: d_dawg123@hotmail.com
*= this song was cut from an album that was never released

Uhh nigga
Uhm, yeah

(Do you wanna (repeat through song))

[Charli Baltimore] (Mase)
Yo, yo, yo
See I hold my head, hoes wanna 'spite me
Mad, I got the Jag' but they the wifey
Icey, is what my merchandise be
Know I'ma star, so they over-price me
Charli B'More be twice you bitch
Tell you got no style by the Ice you pick
Step into my cold area, polar bear wear
White minking, white Lincoln, now what you thinking
What? Too much Ice got you blinking?
Meanwhile, Mickey sinking, what you drinking
West Philly, bad bitch, dress really
Ain't met a nigga with enough dough to sex really
Seen everything, from king's to heavy haters
Cherry gators, Tahoe in every flavor
Rhymes I wrote (9's I tote 'em)
And times I hold 'em
I even put 9's in niggas quotas

What
Yeah
What
Yeah
What what
Yea what what
Turn me up, though
Turn me up

[Mase]
Yo, yo, now if you don't stop
Then we won't stop
If you want the bottom, then I'll be on top
I ain't never met a bitch that ain't ever suck a cock
So if you gotta proof, I gotta have a drop, bi-atch!

[Charli]
If you know B'More, then you know this song
I'ma rip any shit, niggas throw me on
While I'm reachin' mine, I ain't known you that long
Fuck around, nigga, wiggle more then your rollie gone
Ring too
Get that nigga cream too
Hit him bout once or twice, dream come true

[Mase]
I'll give you more then a six, mansion on the beach
Chanel flip flop's, satin all on ya feet
Liguini for brunch, or spice and your heat
So a bitch like you, can't check me from the street

[Charli]
I'm not a girl who'll dream about living with Mase
All I wanna do is get his cake, and sit on his face

What what what
Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah

[Mase]
Yeah, what what what, what the fuck, ughh, yo
What they think, cause be Mase young, Mase be dumb
They get Mase strung, there'll be no prenum
But ever since Blood die, my life change
Out the blue, I'm they boo, that's quite strange
Now ya nice thangs, way out the price range
Half these girls, don't even know my right name
Though I got Rollie, mink made of coyote
Love a ghetto hoe, I know she die for me
You got me confused, see Cam the freak
Mase never the cat, bring sand to the beach
Show some that the average show-hand couldn't reach
Living expenses, 50 grand a week
You know me, I V-O-T, low key
Platinum rollie, smoke a O-Z
Baby face nigga, without no goatee
2 point 8, about to blow 3
Huh

What the fuck
What the fuck
Yeah yeah yeah
What what what
Yeah yeah yeah
What what what
Yeah yeah yeah
What what what
Uh
What the fuck
Don't stop
What the fuck
We won't stop
Harlem-Philly's
Still bless ya forever
Mase blessed forever

This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 17, 2001 3:22 PM
This message has been edited by tidepoetry on Apr 17, 2001 3:21 PM

Posted on Apr 17, 2001, 3:20 PM

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**Unreleased

by Charli Baltimore

Artist: Charli Baltimore
Song: Works Hard For The Money
Album: not on one*
sent by: bmorezbest

*= This song was cut from an album that never came out

Uh, uh, uh, uh

Chorus

She works hard for the money
So hard for it honey
She works hard for the money
And you better treat her right

Verse One: Charli Baltimore

Whatever you gotta, do for the Prada
On sex, each minute, ten dollars
24 hours, on Beauty Parlors
Poppin' that tower, moves be power
Why ya'll sour, I deals in bragoits
See my thugs just ahppy with Nautica sweats
While I look vexed, these cats get over
Peace to the Rover, who sleep on the sofa
You nine to five, I'm five to nine
Sign dotted line, checks all mine
If ya'll haters wanna courtsy me fine
But I met mills, ya'll ain't worth a dime
Ain't worth my time, curves stay dented
Gotta do a bid, daddy watch the kids
Whatever I did, to get this cash
Did it hard, so spell me out real fast

Chorus

She works hard for the money
So hard for it honey
She works hard for the money
And you better treat her right

Verse Two: Charli Baltimore

Yo, yo, honey come, honey go
Money dough, money blow
Where should I begin, cash on end
Believe you me Charli pull no stunts
Jet black six stacks in the trunk
CB in a rut, work hard for the money
Trsut me boo, play hard for the money
Even if it's trippin', hey it's a living
Just make sure them old men is tippin'
Even the ones that be actin' hard
Put my mack down tehn get platnuim cards
Girls pop they four's, even drop they drawz
For the pool, the house and the parcae floors
Wanna take me out, don't need no roll
Impress me baby, my kids need clothes
If even I'm nervous, been out there flirtin'
One things certain, I'm always workin'

Chorus

She works hard for the money
So hard for it honey
She works hard for the money
And you better treat her right

Verse Three: Charli Baltimore

Yo I lie for the cash, die for the cash
Only time I'm on E, is when it's class
B fronted, don't Miss Thing lookin' pretty
Oh yeah baby, my bankbook pretty
Roll in a six, took his keys
My man stays at home, he cooks and cleans
While I get big, clockin' fast
He'll watch the kids, I'll watch the stash
And yo you think it's a figure of speech
When I say, I get six figures a week
And all ya'll think, that's ideal
I'm wit' fly wheels, in high heels
In tillin', that mink catch a feelin'
Heights in the billin' building, over seas dealin'
Yo you ain't treatin' me right
It's aight, cause at the end of the night
My money still tight

Chorus

She works hard for the money
So hard for it honey
She works hard for the money
And you better treat her right

She works hard for the money
So hard for it honey
She works hard for the money
And you better treat her right

Posted on Apr 17, 2001, 3:15 PM

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Put your Hands Up

by Jadakiss

Artist: Jadakiss
Album: Kiss the Game Goodbye
Song: Put Ya Hands Up
Typed by: Lefferts01@hotmail.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

[Jadakiss]
It's the J-A-D-A I got beef with the feds and the D-A
I got footage in the game press replay
I got bitches in the club all over me ma take it e-asy
And y'all scared I can tell
and I'ma get buck's like Milwaukee cause like +Sam+ I +Can-sell+
I'm that nigga y'all know that
bang you in tha yard then slide off on the early go back
In the streets I flash the cannon like Kodak
And I spray threes so say cheese
Already told you I'm lookin for enemies
Double R so of course its' better
I love corn rolls and Farrah Fawcett feathers
It's a message in a glass bottle read the letter
Money in the bank membership Visa sweaters
And we ride or d-i-e together

[Chorus 1]
Uh uh come on put ya hands up
Nah fuck that put ya hands down
[ahh] Come on put ya hands up
Nah fuck that put ya hands down

[Jadakiss]
Y'all know I got the master flow, fast or slow
Y'all wanna know who the best is aks ya hoe
The honies don't lie they love it
And they cop for real trust me dogg the thugs will dub it
'Kiss hit you with consecutive hot shit
Therefore nobody gona spit like I spit
Get money just to walk through off the books
So when you mention my name shit its off the hook
Shirt's off titites is out
and you know I'm there the hardest niggas in the city is out
I'm in the club ice over the thermal waitin for you to try me
When the lights go low I'ma burn you
Start with straight shots and then pop bottles
Flirt with the hood rats then pop models
Gotta slate to 'em more mines our motto
And y'all might get down with the team if y'all swallow

[Chorus 2] (longer and diferent fill in)

[Jadakiss]
(Muahh) Kiss the game goodbye, the game is mine
You thought wrong change ya mind
I'm the nigga that'll pop the king and scoop the queen
and take over the town with a ruthless team
New S-Type waggen future green gun heavy pants saggin I'm used to cream
Who you know can make a million dollar bail on cash
neva did a day and got the jails on smash, K-I double
I move the bediqo quick, and just let montega bubble
'Kiss been a boss, y'all just start workin'workin
Now put ya hands up til ya arms start hurtin
Don't put 'em down til I tell you
Whoever wanna be hard headed then find out what these shells do
Now you can put 'em down if you want
but soon as the hook come back put 'em up

[Chorus 3] (then fade)

Posted on Apr 16, 2001, 2:37 PM

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Back, Back

by Lil O

Artist: Lil' O
Album: Back Back 12"
Song: Back Back
Typed by: Tweet62998@aol.com
sent by: rassfan

[Chorus]
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Or I'ma grab the gat and hit a nigga with the heat
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Don't try to gimme dap bitch you ain't no kin to me
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Cause you catch a slap if keep on grillin' me
Back Back Back Back gimme 50 feet
Gimme 50 feet Gimme 50 feet

[Verse 1]
Hey here's a little story 'bout a nigga like me
I fuck bad broads live large and drive V's
Some say I'm cocky and rude I might be
But nigga fuck you, you ain't got to like me
I'm at the bar taking sips of long island ice tea
Wrist looking' blue or icy I'm pricey
Bitch niggas mean mugging' and starin' all shiesty
Don't make me pepper spray your face have you lookin' all spicy
Cause I know you niggas hatin' and wanna fight me
Thinking I'm all Hollywood like Spike Lee
Thinking I'ma steal you and fuck up your white T
When I catch you in your jaw I'ma fuck up your white teeth
But nigga I be ready to scuffle like dice peat
And ya'll walkin' outta this tussle ain't likely
I hope you boys ready to rumble I'm quite deep
And I ain't friendly but I'ma tell you politely

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Say I'm the type of cat when I pull up in the place
you hatas like a blow job put it in they face
I buy the goochie shoes matching belt lookin' great
Dubs sounding cool you can tell I'm pushin' weights
Courtier full of flakes snow storms in the peaks
Hoe taming nigga keep my bitch on a leash
You the typa cat that'll chase a chick for weeks
Then try to box a nigga when you hear he hit your freak
But playa don't you know you outta line that shit is weak
And fightin' over broads will get you killed up in these streets
You running round here plexin' always thinking shit is sweet
Then have the nerve to wonder why them bullets hit ya cheek
Then wanna step to me talkin' but (Oh you foul!)
All up in my face talking bout (You hit my gal)!
I'm looking at him stupid like man this shit is wild
You better give me space asshole I ain't ya pal

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I keep my game on face when I'm riding on chops
Straight gorilla pimp don't even wave to the bops
Lookin' like a snail crawlin' slow through the lot
Fist full of grain other hand on the glock
Cause when you want fee jackers want what you got
That's why I stay ready with the inferred dot
The first one to jump is the first getting shot
Put the beam on his head then I take off his block
You love to rob O like take off you rocks
Take off your shoes playa take off your socks
But I'm the type of cat before I take off my watch
Aim at your chest and try to take off you heart
You know how I do playa shake off tha marks
Hit him with the big guns that take off a part
Chest lookin' like he been ate by a shark
Bitch you better mind stay in line play it smart

[Chorus till end]

Posted on Apr 16, 2001, 2:20 PM

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Still Thuggish Ruggish

by Bizzy Bone

Artist: Bizzy Bone
Album: The Gift
Song: Still Thuggish Ruggish
Typed by: dj_stevious@samoa.com *
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

* send corrections to the typist

(Verse 1)
Niggas stay hashed out, hashed out
Mash on these niggas til we passed out, passed out
Laugh at these niggas cause we assed out, lets bow
These niggas smacked me in the fast lane
last thangs I need is enemies, is that fame?
Well that shit is lame oh no
Original bang bang gotta maintain the main thang baby
Lately always runnin from ladies
cause no one's thinkin bout my babies
Just maybe I'll be lonely left, cause y'all gone crazy
Got everybody out here wonderin if I'm broke, I don't play that
And we pray, and we pray
let everybody say that, and you can do what the fuck you wanna do
Not like way back, hey
Got mail from the payback, it's evil all around
Now, here we are, praise God, don't hold us down
Praise God, don't hold us down
Praise God, don't hold us down
If you got to get your clown on wit'cha
top down when ya hear the cop sound
I gotta go punch em, calm down
And when you're in the club drunk and you think you see a punk
he just might have a pump in the trunk, and ready to fuck you up(up)
You niggas can't get near me by not carryin the load(load)
as soon as you get babies, she can't wait to say, hello
These niggas think they Panthers, keep movin, go get some Pampers
any questions get on your knees and get the answer
Evidently everyday

(Chorus)
Who the only nigga you know?
Who the only nigga you know, that's thuggish ruggish?
Ooh ain't shit changed

Who the only nigga you know?
Who the only nigga you know, that's thuggish ruggish?
Ooh ain't shit changed

Who the only nigga you know?
Who the only nigga you know, that's thuggish ruggish?
I still do the ditches with my song still fuckin with the lights on
Sit up and real enough to look at the kids
and tell em momma ain't with us, us, us, us ...

(Verse 2)
It won't be easy believe this
We were birth inside the fetus
ghetto mamas still caught up in ghetto drama think of Columbine,
pop pop, what if it happened to mine?
Will I get paid and keep quiet, or say, fuck that and start a riot?
Niggas lyin to me demons keep flyin to me
chuckin many in the street pimpin me fakin lets make history
My people keep the flame in me help me make this money on my family
I can feel it even if I died burn me
They can't kill it if they wanted to my spirits keep on hauntin you
Can't wait cause I'm the realest
I come with the wickedness and pillage the village
Stick with runaways
Fuck these house niggas and grab your crotch nigga
You slouch rat mouse, niggas bounce, niggas bounce, niggas bounce

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)
And my daddy, daddy, daddy's on the chain gang
tell em bout the gunline boss the same thing
And I hope they took a good picture somebody's out to get ya
Lay me down shit's gonna happen right up wit cha
I've seen murder on the news burnin smellin up the room
And the bang won't let me sleep
I put in me latch, latched with a broom
Strategize like, ahh, and it will materialize
Fantisize like, ahh, and never materialize
What am I the dead weight? It'll be okay
I’m hopin that choo choo ride out the real chance, real here
So all my people with AIDS we can sit down and play some spades
I ain't afraid to to die smoked with Eazy everyday

(Chorus till fade)

Posted on Apr 16, 2001, 2:17 PM

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Let's Get It

by G-Dep f/ Black Rob, P-Diddy

Artist: G-Dep f/ Black Rob, P-Diddy (Puff Daddy)
Album: Let's Get It 12" *
Song: Let's Get It
Typed by: mothegreat@bet.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

* first single of the Bad Boy Compilation album

[Black Rob]
Mumbling

[G-Dep]
Really, Get smacked silly, you get smacked silly
Fucking with these niggas from the, what you gonna do
When you ready, shit I was born ready,
And I was all ready on fish and spaghetti
Creep with the culture, rap I can coach ya, attack like a vulture
If I said I get cha, wearing it I'll fit ya, y'all thirteen inches
I see the big picture, if it's to get richer, I'd probably get wit ya
If not burn it, get hot like a furnace
Shoot the video motherfuck city permits
We own the city, on the phone with Diddy (* Phone Sounds*)
Red bone pretty, when she get aroused like to suck her own titty
Put it in the video, ya wanna holla got to follow nigga here we go
Get you ticket, the train, don't miss it,
Won't reach out, and ya bet I won't visit
Till my whole wardrobe is-it listen

(Chorus)
[G-Dep & Black Rob (Puffy)]
Make this money
Take this money (Let's get it)
Ain't no way you can take this from me (Let's get it)
Ain't shit funny (uh)
Shake it honey (Let's get it)
Take it money
Now let's get it (Let's get it)

[G-Dep]
Creep with your people, though my shit is sweet and low it's no equal
Front butch look, once I throw the hook you proceed to get cook
With the game and the soldiers sit,
When I came, the game that I owed you one
Wide big Lincoln, why he died on the side for the stinking
Watch the task force task for look Marlboro
It's a big chance, big pants,
Might guard him with my man's a type barber
Better learn quick, cause my clique don't argue
You ain't my crew, then who are you
For we take off make sure that your seated
Billboard read it believe it

(Chorus)

[G-Dep]
Soul Controller, rap Itola, kids hate me when they older
I put cracks by the stroller, registered voter, motherfucker quota
Give some baking soda and a quota
Man I flow straight up out the water,
I'm break this game till it say out of order
Who's the high scorer, then tear the floor up
On the world tour with your whore out in Europe, head on the tour bus
Do what them niggas them niggas in the drop thinks cooler
All the five quarters, headline supporters,
Hitting wives and daughters
Brought a neck spray from Esate Lauders
Call Puffy to order

[P-Diddy]
Ayo, call me Diddy I run this city,
Send the cops, the feds and D.A to come get me
Cats wanna leave me for dead you coming with me
Get head in the Bentley red at one fifty
Straight lose it, love two things my money my music
Might co-write and produce it
Drop mine, hot 9 exclusive, got y'all hulking like Bruce did
Deuce it, break backs and stacks it's no problem
Make raps and tracks and go Harlem
Get worldwide coverage, got so many spots I don't even buy luggage
Ya love it
Make moves major, hide out in Asia,
If your girl keep coming around them I'm a blaze her
I'm the Bad Boy flavor, light blue gators
NOT GUILTY
Plus I'm filthy
C'mon

(Chorus)

[Black Rob (Puffy)]
I be the east side Soprano, Rob Marciano
Flow in their channel with the opposite handle
Forty-five sparks turn your day gray flannel
Snatch the yay of the mantle, the proceed to dismantle
Can't say Rob, how many niggas done tried to play mob,
Quit they day job
Tired of putting broke niggas under the wing
If I go to jail again I'm going under the bing
Act like you gonna pull that thing, thing
You the only one who gets played for bling, bling
I represent eight blocks and sing-sing
Almost caught a buck fifty for fucking with Latch in Killer Queens
Moves for paper, moves no chaser
Bullets out the blazer four-fifths with laser
Come and get your shit splitted, newspapers say I did it
(We ain't do it) Now let's get it (Let's get it)

(Chorus) (x3)

Posted on Apr 16, 2001, 2:11 PM

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Lady Marmalade

by Lil' Kim, Mya, Pink & others

Artist: Lil' Kim, Christina Aguilera, Missy Elliott, Mya, Pink
Album: Moulin Rouge Soundtrack *
Song: Lady Marmalade
Typed by: dmxx67@hotmail.com
sent by: rassfan@hotmail.com

Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, flow sister
Hey sister, go sister, soul sister, go sister

[Verse 1: Mya]
He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge
Strutting her stuff on the street
She said, "Hello, hey Joe
You wanna give it a go?" oh

Itchy gitchi yaya dada (hey hey hey)
Itchy gitchi yaya hee (hee oh)
Mocha chocolata yaya (ooh yeah)
Creole Lady Marmalade (ohh)

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (oh oh)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (yeah yeah yeah yeah)

[Verse 2: Pink]
He sat in her boudoir while she freshened up
Boy drank all that magnolia wine
On her black satin sheets
Is where he started to freak, yeah

Itchi gitchi yaya dada (da da yeah)
Itchi gitchi yaya hee (ooh yeah yeah)
Mocha chocolata ya ya
Creole Lady Marmalade, uh

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ooh)

[Verse 3: Lil' Kim]
Yeah, yeah, aw
We come through with the money and the garter belts
Let 'em know we 'bout that cake, straight out the gate
We independent women, some mistake us for whores
I'm saying, why spend mine when I can spend yours
Disagree, well that's you and I'm sorry
I'mma keep playing these cats out like Atari
Wear high heeled shoes, get love from the dudes
Four badass chicks from the Moulin Rouge
Hey sisters, soul sisters
Gotta get that dough sisters
We drink wine with diamonds in the glass by the case The meaning of expensive taste
We wanna itchi gitchi yaya (come on)
Mocha chocolata (what)
Creole Lady Marmalade
(One more time, come on)

Marmalade (ooh)
Lady Marmalade (ooh yeah)
Marmalade (ohh)

[Verse 4: Christina]
Hey, hey, hey
Touch of her skin feeling silky smooth, oh
Color of cafe au lait, alright
Made the savage beast inside
Roar until he cried
More, more, more

[Pink]
Now he's back home doing nine to five (nine to five)

[Mya]
Living a gray flannel life

[Christina]
But when he turns off to sleep, memories keep
More, more, more

Itchi gitchi yaya dada
Itchi gitchi yaya hee (ohh)
Mocha chocolata ya ya (ooh)
Creole Lady Marmalade

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir (ce soir)
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi (ohh)
Come on, uh

[Missy Elliott]
Christina
Moulin
Pink
Lady Marmalade
Lil' Kim
Hey, uh uh uh uh uh uh uh
Mya
Rockwilder baby
Lady
Moulin Rouge
Ooh
Misdemeanor here

Creole Lady Marmalade, ooh yeah

Posted on Apr 16, 2001, 2:08 PM

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