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ACTION BRONSON lyrics - Mr. Wonderful

Brand New Car

Original and similar lyrics
I got a brand new car I got a jazz guitar Welcome, everybody Thank you a lot for coming, it means a lot to me Steer the yacht with my knee, plenty of botany Damn, bad chick on top of me, pornography And I know she only want me for my guap-ery (Ahem... let me get my voice right Gary, sorry, 1, 2, 3, 4) It's the first time ever Yo fuck this jacket, I turn this shit to 85 napkins Since Jeter's done I'm now the captain Trust you me, Gotham's safer now But there's always a new joker in town Ready to smoke you with that pound But when he shoots it, the flag says "BANG!" and everybody laughs He must be up and off the molly tab I'm by the bar lookin' Swedish in the trenchcoat stupid The only one drinkin' mango lassi in the bullpen My lips are sealed like the singer with bad skin My need for speed made the Jag spin Dog, I'll resurrect Freaky Tah to do my ad-libs Overseas I prolly got mad kids That I don't even know about, you better slow down, baby I'm still young, fuck it, gotta use it while it works Nothin' lasts forever, or does it? Fuck it Shout out to my cousins, all of 'em I got a brand new car I got a jazz guitar I'll take it back to playin' handball and smokin' on the park benches Dippin' cabs and hoppin' fences Laughin' all the way back to the buildin' runnin' Got to the door, twist the key, elevator waitin' for me 100, got upstairs and fixed eleven bowls of Crispix Grabbed a Snapple out the bin, no one's an even match for the kid Legs are made of stone, the back of a bridge In goal line situations I'll tackle The Fridge Peace to Mike Ditka, 50 on the light fixture Right side shifter, fight fixer, twist your sister And I ain't talkin' 'bout the hair band, mothafucka It's Bam Bam doin' ah ah ah ah Out with the, ah! I can't even get this fuckin' right, are you kidding me? I'm ashamed of myself, I'm sorry

Mob Up

TWISTA "Mobstability"
(feat. The Speedknot Mobstaz) [Intro] Yeah, mobsta style for you muthafuckas, you know what I'm sayin' We fin to bring this shit like this here This muthafuckin' Chi shit, check it out [Chorus 1] The niggas in my mob can't be touched You best to mob up to come fuckin' with us, oh no Niggas in my mob bring the heat You best to mob up fuckin' with the elite, oh no [Liffy Stokes] You just a bitch in the sky, I hear cries 'Cause you can't whistle for your guys Surprise when you saw this pistols in your eyes So I peal like mere mortals, bet I shoot bloody portals To muthafuckas who owe us, niggas die, causin' horrifyin' () My passion for blastin' made me an assassin on all enemies that work us Whose purpose is to serve () timbs 'til they high and they hurt us Murders got us murders, I pull my weed and gun out Blastin' 'til they run in the house while I got the blunt in my mouth [Mayz] We in a rage bustin' rapidly like when I'm on stage It don't get no rougher than Liffy Stokes, Twista and Mayz In the blood of your day, then lay flat on your back Then while he fuckin' your hoe The mob gon' be straight coppin' you stack [Twista] Your mob lacks, I'ma defeat you run three-two on contact Cogniac, get me strapped with the black gat itchin' to bomb back Hoes can't get no sleep Bullets hit your chin for the grief that you bring us Shots hit his face as he grabs his chest Then we watch him bleed through his fingers Now come on, come all, but if all come all fall, fuck all y'all We road dawgs, then I come gunnin', niggas runnin' like they sold y'all In the heat of the night, the () static we start up Guards up, while we come strapped they come ready to mob up [Chorus 2 w/ 1] If it's static, one of my niggas gon' get two niggas Two of my niggas gon' get four niggas Four of my niggas gon' get more niggas That's more triggers meaning more killers You muthafuckas better mob up [Repeat] [Liffy Stokes] It's a static, it's automatic, so grab the automatics And pumps and pull the triggers and make some niggas look acrobatic I was cold but frantic, the foes have panicked They got bloods blew out their dome, bet the bullets run rapid I kept bustin' for the love of hustlin' squeezin' my wesson Ruger, gang () maneuvers, niggas wanna be bruisers but I'm a shooter Fuck the squad, because when it's said and done Liffy Stokes will do some poppin' [Short Skit] [Liffy Stokes] Nigga the devil's knockin' at your fuckin' door With some hot ones and toe And ready to hit 'em with nothin' less than four Nigga let me go, I'm 'bout to pop this bitch You know you know the lick, art of the mobsta click Fuck the argument, mob elite's runnin' up apartments Kickin' in doors pistol whippin' hoes be heartless Searches as the bullets marches between your arches Make one call and wait and reload the cartridge [Chorus 2 w/ 1 - (2x)] [Mayz] You can't even mess with a mobsta, nigga, is you sick in the head I torture that ass and have you overdosing on lead Or maybe I just leave you cut up, drippin' and dead With your crew skippin' town scared, my lead gon' lead their ass red Don't get misled, don't mistake me for somebody but a soldier The elite niggas got more death than AIDS and ebola Getting old and colder I be quick to () start uppin' but that chip off your muthafuckin' shoulder [Twista] Behold the stack folder, gun holder, AKA blunt roller Mayz if I die for you get your (....) and trap holder To hurt particular niggas comin' with perpendicular figures Crushin' triggers, y'all niggas better bring back some memos [Mayz] It really don't matter if that nigga pack a glock or a gauge 'Cause whatever the fuck Mayz blaze gon' make him see his last day Takin' 'em out, my life and makin' sure his cast stays Jack 'em for his last days, that's how livin' fast pay Nigga, you know the word on the street It's the mobsta elite that's servin' the streets to the rockin' these beats You better have a nice way to greet us than rolling with your guys And you could still die in a multiple homicide [Chorus 2 w/ 1 - (2x)] Let's mob up [Chorus 1 - (2x)]

4-5-6

FOXY BROWN "Chyna Doll"
[Beanie Sigel] Ughh, ughh, yeah This is Beanie Sigel That Philly cat who ain't with that silly rap Put your weight up, not your hate up, niggas Y'all know how I play quiet towns and tie 'em down Haters wonderin' how I got a position with Roc Cuz I listen to The LOX and I listen then watch While you still sittin' in spots, ditchin' the cops I'm in the Porsche Box with Fox, glistenin' watch War steel gray, Lexus, GS-4 Desert Eagle metal in the door, pedal to the floor I'm routin' down South, for my aim is to score Eight cylinder, screamin' 'Fuck the law!' Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash Radar detectors, troopers can't find us We bubble down ATL and hit the 'Linas Then get clubbed with some Dirty South thugs Go all out thugs, go in your house thugs Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs 36 South stuck, stay on route thugs You know how Mac play, quiet town, tie it down I supply it now, by the pound Might front you a Q if you buy a pound If you didn't try it then, why would you try it now? Think cause Mac rap, I wouldn't fire a round into your crown I lay you down and retire you clown And I clap niggas, nap niggas in the dirt Pat-pat with the deuce deuce, it'll work Bitch ass niggas wearin' thongs and skirts Catch 'em early in the mornin' while they goin' to work See you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror And you weak ass niggas only bust out of fear I know y'all softer than them feathers that they stuff in a bear I pack two barettas, never bust in the air Twist your shit back, spit til my gat sits back Pack four pieces like a Kit Kat. Heh, get that? Cop Cris' by the six-pack, Range Rov?' Dot six that Benz Coupe, drop six that Buggy eye seven come out? Shit, took the six back Switch the Double R, the Double R's are, gotta get that You see how we play, pop Cris' on the E-Way Soakin' the seat, gettin' drunk with Bleek Or the Shark Bar, grilled salmon, poppin' Dom P While you chicken when you chasin' your high with hot tea Niggas flashin' back money like it's they money Slap 500 on back of a three-twenty I'm bringin' it to any nigga tryin' to shoot games (yeah) With them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and CDs [Memphis Bleek] Check it out, yo, yo Well, I'm a lil' nigga don't speak, I tote heat Here to shut down your whole operation on the street Bleek, you know niggas just had to recruit this My flow drool out like a old nigga toothless Who would believe they pump Bleek with Ritalin Too hyped up, but weed calm my adrenaline Roll day on the strip, SK in the crib Hundred crack viles, playin' the Benj' Nickel nine gleam, like it's Armor All'd up My squad be armed up, gotcha niggas' arms up Who the fuck want what? Me and Bean's trumped up Witcha town under siege, Dillinger in the sleeve If my gun jam, you niggas'll squeeze on me You niggas them cats, that'll call D's on me I'm on on my off game, need a stadium for in stores Floss chains and I pimp whores, stay smoked out Shirt be poked out with the snub-nosed eight Six to jump out, you eat what you spit Motherfucker die clean For you actin' tough cats, but in your heart you serene I read your body languo You off balance and don't wanna mangle You want a challenge, get it brought to from every angle This shit'll slow 'em down, I bet that Your up front dough and your six, bet that motherfucker [Foxy Brown] Sassy Fox some brick money, cop me a drop You know how I run it, 600, glassy top Rock the light gray wrist shit, flash them rocks The red, the yellow, the green, causin' traffic stops Bitch please, never freeze, gonna blast the glock Then I show a little cleave' and breeze past the cops You talk slick but suck dick for money in y'all hand I'm like, 'Bitch, I got more money than your man' While you get your knees scraped up, cum all on your glands Shit, I'm in the V Twinz ballin' on you tramps Y'all hoes greasy, so I keep the bitch easy Rookie, fuck you know about glocks and pock' books? You know Na Na rock that shit, Pra-da that shit Es-ca that shit, Dolce Gabba that shit Hollow points, top that shit, fuck you tryin' to aim Pop that shit, yeah, nigga, Fox got that shit You see the ice wrist shit, can you cop that shit Chanel crocodile and ostrich shit, whoa! You know my style, I be spendin' they cash And I'll show their little dick some celebrity ass And get 'em a brick, I know what style to get them niggas shit real Well, fuck, I let 'em live and lick the tip of my shit To remind 'em of some rose petals, candles, and shit Or some hydro like the nigga grew a plant in my shit So that's what it is, that's why them hoes mad at my shit See my whilin' in the four-six, stylin' on they bum ass Goddess MC, y'all bitches is little Foxes I see my girls frontin', tossin' they little watches Cris? I pops it. Fuckin' a nigga topless Cats? I fouls on. Hoes? I styles on, nigga Wear y'all out then air y'all out Over here? Hustle from where, clear all out Shit, greyhound bitch, stay down bitch And y'all know Jigga sent me here to lay down shit I will spray y'all niggas, will waste y'all niggas Cause I fucked the nigga and paid y'all niggas Shit, what the fuck

Low Pro Diss. No. 2

Lil Menace "The World Is Mine"
[Lil Menace] yea lil menace again right back at ya so you like my gangster profile it's all about the Familia homie fuck Low Profile introducing right now my primo lil Chico what up homie get ont he mic ese show these putos what's up [Lil Chico] I gotta get down with the stress and cover your ass you duck when I blast you thinkin you done with your past hey homies you ain't gonna last It's lil Chico wicked as if you didn't know, fuck who I make the mothafuckin' rules I pay and you know what, I do what I choose you thinkin you mothafuckin leva all that shit and I wont know with all of my homies I got the clips I got the mothafuckin balas and the lighter bitch you're not in the South bitch you're not gonna clown bitch you thinkin of fuckin around but you don't clown bitch you fuckin Low Profile lames I'm also taking a diss I'm taking advantage homie it's all the same I'm making the money making the feria I'm making the cheddar while you sucking dick you thinking you bad but you know what...you really ain't shit hey lil Chico's in the house fuck Low Profile Royal T Lil' Rob serve me with a smile you like the taste of my dick as I slap you with it ho so fuck all you levas and I ain't done trick I'm gonna clown Maniac also to my last day and Mr. Sancho suck on these nuts Silencer you're a lame [Lil Menace] I'm a South Sider Rider South Central East Sider I grew up in the barrio and yes I'm tighter that all lame so Low Profile who's the blame A fat mothafucker 2 skinny vatos what a shame you know who..I'm mothafuckin M you wanna spell my name now fuck it I'm the man it's spelled L-I-L M-E-N-A-C-E and that means..you can't fuck with me and Royal T the nets tell me this side I town you better be chingon simon you better be down you better get and recruit a whole new team because the team that you have don't really mean shit to me they're all bitches..caught up in the game they're thinkin they're gangster but they're truely little lames so what...do you really wanna do? this is lil Menace fuck all you levas now I'm through [Lil Chico] now I'm headed to San Diego to catch a Low Profile swingin a drink and I sippin on this fuckin champagne oh homie I'm trippin you know what when I get my sinister shot glock, on to your face you gonna cry you gonna cry simon you gonna holusinate and lil Rob with your chingo 'Simon Simon' you sound like a bitch you stupid trick I though you know know but you know what, It's all good so represent what's yours but I'ma fuckin bust on you whores I got the federal aggents on my back they wanna fuck with me and put me down but you know what... I'm visiting the sack cause I'm willing to die like a man if I'm going to die with a hole in the sand you know who I be lil Chico simon I'm the man I'm clowning all you fuckin levas and Royal T fuck you you stupid Patty worth Chavala yea you know you're a fool you can't even rap and I don't know why they buy your shit and you got these vatos sucking on your dick. What? [Lil Menace] And it's the back on my own back on my own you wanna fuck with me I'm calling you out ese and that ain't no joke G and Mr. Snipe slick and wicked oh so you say you fuckin leva homie your gonna get laid down to the canvas when we fuckin battle a left and a right and then I'll bust your glass eye you wanna trip on me fuck all you fuckin represent (Califa Thugs) your truely eight years old and sound like a litle bitch

Your Gyrlfriend

KURUPT "Tha Streetz Iz A Mutha"
Man what you need man? Yo' bitch ass always come around here wit this whole three dollar two dollar five dollar hit shit Nigga come around here with a twenty-sack of somethin nigga My bills gotta get paid motherfucker I'm outta here -- catch me next week beotch! [Daz] Hop in my Chevy get to wheelin down the block Makin sales, whether slangin weed or rocks Clockin major strapped up, me and my niggaz in the house Might as well BACK UP, bustin on niggaz if they act up On a mission with my gang, around here we run thangs Get paid, every night, where we hang cause it's a street thang, cops and automatic weapon keep a nigga intact, for these niggaz half-steppin Daz Dillinger, got sewed up for real Dealers servin these niggaz for a quarter a mill' Ninety-eight my motto to kill, that's how it is Fuck my family, fuck my friends, when my dope come in [Kurupt] You feel like fuck trust, a nigga lose his life tryin to trust on motherfuckers like us.. Stackin, stolen stack stackin it ain't nuttin but murders kidnappings jackings and vault cracking crackin up in these parts, heat sparks up in these parts The dark parts of the motherfuckin park The tarantula's loose and I'm heated now with somethin in my right palm to keep y'all seated down Repeated, headhuntin, huntin for heads Shot in the chest neck arm and legs [Daz] Ain't no fakin we all out to get paid Wettin niggaz what we do nowadays (nigga) Around here, you can't trust nobody Anybody's somebody tryin to jack somebody (somebody) Whether it's weed or your life or narcotics Anyway you get, you can't trust nobody [Kurupt] We jack a nigga for a half a thang, we back up in this with a flock of these chickens, worth three and a half million Now we set, we relaxed chillin, livin the boss life Every day every night me and the Columbians take flight Eight hundred ki's to fly across seas When I flip it I make about twelve million G's I'm a two thousand Ricky Ross, transportin the sauce And it pay to be the boss cause when yo' ass get crossed every nigga on the street gets paid [Daz] A couple pieces spread, bear arms nigga, warfare nigga Shut down the alarms nigga Time to hit off, get off then break off If he don't kick in the bread then take off Columbian ties, Columbian mob members in Columbian neckties Columbians disfigured Daz MIDI machine Dillinger Two shotty Young Gotti, bout to put it on somebody [Kurupt] And my mindstate today is fuck everybody Around here, you can't trust nobody Anybody's somebody tryin to jack somebody (somebody) Whether it's weed or your life or narcotics Anyway you get, you can't trust nobody Around here, you can't trust nobody Anybody's somebody tryin to jack somebody (somebody) Whether it's weed or your life or narcotics Anyway you get, you can't trust nobody .. shit, who the fuck at the door? Aww man the police fool c'mon get out of here man c'mon! Flush the shit! Flush the coke!!! {*toilet flushing sound*}

Rebel Flag

INSANE CLOWN POSSE "Carnival Of Carnage"
Stop the bus, Violent J comes out Barrels to your chest And blow your lungs out Motherfuck a fucking hick I'll kick you in the mouth, swell your fucking lips up You swallow them teeth when I do And me and my boys will run a train on your Felma lip Then break her fucking back Goddamn bigots ain't all that So I'm a cut your brain out Reach in and pull your spine out Welcome to the carnival show You're invited, you and your bitch Flo And the wicked clowns gonna jeck Cut your lights off and if you crawl back Don't step to the city folk Bitch, that's how you got your titties broke So get back on your ardvark Don't let me see a bigot coming through Clark Park Cut his neck with my good blade Thirty-four years old, still in the third grade Yes, speaking on others Look at your hootnannyass motherfucker And your Billy Bitch hey Fuck both ya and your rebel flag Fuck your rebel flag (8x) Been down south you can't tell me Hillbilly hillbilly hillbilly Uncle Willy acting illy Old bitch cooking up fiddles That fuck on the porch playing the fiddle You know I'd love to show you that ghetto style Take you out back and throw you in the shit pile Life in the inner city I'd whip your ass, but you're all shitty and funky Like the pigs you eat Picking that shit off them yellow feet Don't step or so much as cough Or I'm a shoot you in the back until your chest falls off What you say ain't always hype So I'm a slap you in the face with a lead pipe Teach the kids what pops taught you And he's a funky-ass bigot too Fell short other do respect Don't speak when I slap you in your red neck Fuck all that bullshit you stuck on Get back on your mule and get the fuck on Don't look back, I'm a hit ya Take that red neck bitch out with ya Spit on your rebel rags So fuck you and your rebel flag Wilbur - I'm a cut his neck Haus - I'm a break his back Guber - I'm a stab his face Jed - I'm a slit his throat Felma Lou - I'm a fuck her in the ass Hillbillies listening down south I'm up and I'm headed for the south Finna blow a round of buck shot in your mouth And blow the back of your fucking neck loose Hillbillies run a rhyme like a headless goose Cuz you try burning down my cross That's ready racist hick named Haus You sleep in the barn and you fuck your horse Break to the head, put your back on coarse, yeah But ya know I chill If I don't flex on you, the others will Straight folks in the south won't have it They put a round in your racist ass quick The coolest south team up with the north And blow that bigot off his fucking horse So put away your goddamn twine Cuz I'm a cut your pipe and take a little moonshine And drink it all up Barrels to your face and blow your fucking head off Keep on gunning cuz of what they said Punk, I'll put a slug in your bald head Scalp a skinhead quick And your greasy-ass triple Klan ain't shit Zip you up in the bag And I'll shit on a motherfucking rebel flag Yeah shit on a rebel flag Fuck your rebel flag... Wilbur - I'm a cut his neck Haus - I'm a break his back Guber - I'm a stab his face Jed - I'm a slit his throat Felma Lou - I'm a fuck her in the ass I'm a stab that motherfucker in bitch ah!

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