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ATMOSPHERE lyrics - SouthSiders

Idiot

Original and similar lyrics
[Hook:] Whoever taught you how to speak your mind Never knew you'd turn out to be an idiot And I might be stupid But I'ma keep it movin' like I know what I'm doin' Whoever thought you had a God damn clue Never knew you'd turn out to be an idiot I might be a fool But I seem so cool when I'm next to you Aight [Verse 1:] I was in the middle of a selfie When you were trying to text me Genius Interuptus Swing like Kirby Puckett I'm as subtle as an alien abduction in public Somebody call the cops Suck it, blow the trumpet until the bubble pops And butter up another patch of those muffin tops I'm just trying to find a balance Wound up with a wife and a gang of kids Her kiss tastes like black licorice And now I'm riding in the back of her ambulance Knock knock knockin' on heavens door Let me in yo I got a laminate I guess Its my job to let y'all know That those my nuts y'all tampered with [Hook] [Verse 2:] I'm not the coolest I'm just a dude thats got some flows Attitude, a lot of soul I got a wood nameplate says "I wish you Gold" And this watch don't even work And these people only came for the cheap dessert And we can fight over a piece of dirt Like all y'all ain't gunna leave the Earth Might as well keep sand in a baggy My favorite people call me Dad or Daddy I never claimed to be too smart I never been afraid of a new start Luck-ay siete my wifes so fly all the suckers envy Shes a beautiful soul to have and to hold And wipe my butt when I get old [Hook] [Verse 3:] Hey mamma can I call you Cupcake You remind me of a status update You're the wind beneath my limbs It might sound weird but you look like Prince Bang Bang under purple rain Fertilized the egg in the back of a mustang No shame, ain't no thang Baby came out lookin' like K.D Lang, Yeaah [Hook]

Keep It Comin'

HOUSE OF PAIN "Same As It Ever Was"
Smokin' up an L Might kill a brain cell But I might as well I'm on a highway to hell sometimes I feel doomed, Totally consumed By an eerie feelin' I hear pigs squealin' Soldiers of fortune Are torchin' huts The girls on them TVs Are shakin' their butts I'm hyperventilatin' I might be hallucinatin' Yo I got a chill I'm feelin' sort of ill I'm goin' mad But aren't ya glad ya used Dial I'm goin out like style [chorus] Uh and ya don't quit Yeah, keep it comin' And ya don't stop They say Uh and ya don't quit I got complexes Ya can't figure out My dad said 'He's a bum, kick the nigger out' My head's fucked up But I lucked up And got a hit record Now I'm well respected I can go places I never went before I still dress the same So it must be my name I can't deal With who's real and who's not Who treated me the same When my record wasn't hot They said I couldn't eat too So I put my cake down I think I'm having a breakdown [chorus] It's not paranoia I got something for ya It's made of chrome And it'll burst you dome No joke my gun'll Blow a fuckin' tunnel Right through your body FREE JOHN GOTTI I'll leave with your hotty And I'll take her home Lay her down on her back And I'll make her moan [chorus] Uh and ya don't quit Yeah, keep me cummin' And ya don't stop Soul Assasins and ya don't stop FunkDoobie and ya don't stop Cypress Hill and ya don't stop House of Pain and ya don't stop Soul Assasins and ya don't stop

Spur Of The Moment

LUDACRIS "Red Light District"
[Quik] Gotta keep it a secret (woo!) [Luda] Ay man let me ask you somethin man [Luda] You ever have one of them days where you felt like [Luda] you mighta got rid of all the bad seeds in your life? [Luda] Y'knahmean like you just got your paycheck [Luda] Paid off a car note or somethin [Luda] Just jumped out the shower feelin fresh than a muh'fucka [Luda] Witcha good shoes on, y'knahmtalkinbout? [Quik] You mean like, paid off a Cadillac car note? [Luda] Like a Cadillac, like you ready to throw a party [Luda] Like call e'rybody you know, don't even plan it, just do it [Quik] In Compton we call that 'spur of the moment' [Luda] Well let's do it, spur of the moment, whattup? [Ludacris] Well you can bring the drinks a little mo' my way More I say, on another hot sunny Cali-for-nye day Just touched down, called up my 8-1-8 fo' a date with some other bust downs And I cruised up the block, car losed up the top I take the breeze, quick break the trees Feel good as we flippin through the Robb Repo't My baby momma ain't trippin on child suppo't [DJ Quik] Because she can't support that garbage, she should come pay homage When we pair 'em, we gon' share 'em, when I'm finished we all switch I ain't really got the time, yo I'm chillin with Luda- -cris stop and twist the buddha got me feelin like this is it If we gon' party, we gon' sip, we got a bar We all in shape, we gon' go far, you can't stop the car We on the freeway, if you get out you burnt You woulda thought you woulda learned me when my hair was all permed I think y'all bullshittin with it dawg [Chorus] It's on tonight, get licked, get gone tonight [KJ] Therefore, in my life, everything's gonna be, alright G'd up, my mind is freed up [KJ] From the day, through the night, everything's gonna be, alright [DJ Quik] Arabian Spruce, Seagram's bumpy and juice We used to bag and then truce, we used to sag and get loose Not the kind of cats that would jump in your bag for your jewels But to put some money in it for your drink and your shoes We get the News like MTV, every ten to the hour We play Mario Brothers, we eat the 'shroom and get power Now eat your sour powers, and use your dental floss What does bein mental cost? If you ain't knowin you already lost [Ludacris] So stay with me, and let's get tipsy Rememberin the days on the block sippin whiskey Runnin 'round grinnin, runnin 'round sinnin Gettin lit, then I wonder why my head kept spinnin But I'm all grown up now, less throwin up now Record blowed up, so my hood throwed up Now let's break loose cause your boy's around And tonight we gon' celebrate bein allowed riiiiight [Chorus] [Ludacris] It's just one of those days, without a care in the world You ain't gotta look mean, I know you care for your girl But she's lookin this way and I'm gonna come get her Fresh haircut, so I'm feelin quite kipper Can't nothin go wrong cause my strap's on my back And if fools wanna scrap then my tool will attack But forget the click-clack, ain't no need for the steel Just a straight house party and some meat on the grill [DJ Quik] If it's Los Angeles, watch a boss handle biz I'ma put this on my kids, stupid it's an outfit If you ain't been around the world keep yo' mouth zipped Cause I do {?} elevation You see I'm not normal and I'm not a homo I'm mo' apt to shoot a porno with you in cornrows And call it 'More Hoes: Volume 5, Volume 6' And show it in the back of my truck, at the picnic [Chorus - repeat 2X]

I Wanna Hear It From Your Lips

ERIC CARMEN "Eric Carmen"
I run a comb through my hair and step out in the street And the city's the color of flame in the mid-summer heat, oh yeah Jennifer's got her daddy's car, she's playing up-town on the stereo We go cruisin' so close, the way they did long ago My darlin' CHORUS: (Turn) Turn the radio up for that sweet sound Hold me close never let me go (Keep) Keep this feelin' alive Make me lose control Baby baby (When) When I look in your eyes, I go crazy Fever's high with the lights down low (So take) Take me over the edge Make me lose control We put the top down and park with the moon in the sky And the wind is so hot in our hair, like a fire in july, oh yeah Jennifer's singin' Stand by Me and she knows every single word by heart Was love always this good, or could this be just the start? Oh darlin' CHORUS Keep my baby clothes on, and were movin' in time And the heat from your touch, makes me feel like I'm losing my mind Oh yeah (And then they played) Back in my arms again (We close our eyes) We start rememberin' when (We start to kiss) And all the feelings return And we just pray that this night never ends Oh, my darlin' (Turn) Turn the radio up for that sweet sound Hold me close never let me go Keep this feelin' alive make me lose control Baby When I look in your eyes, I go crazy Fever's high with the lights down low (So take) Take me over the edge Make me lose control Baby baby (Turn) Turn the radio up for that sweet sound Hold me close never let me go (Keep) Keep this feelin' alive make me lose control When I look in your eyes, I go crazy Fever's high with the lights down low (So take) Take me over the edge make me lose control Baby baby CHORUS

Sum Shit I Wrote

COMMON "Resurrection"
Marks I erase like racism, I'm as large as a bigot Groove is my escapism, when I'm bubbly I just kick it What I need from you is understanding that I'm standing On my own two, down with my own crew Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm prone to snap off When I'm off that Cognac I can't hold back like a massouse I get loose like a screw turned from left right to tight When it's time for some action I get Red's Tonight's Da Night An eye for an eye, a life for his wife Dissected I'm on some hi-tech shit computers want to bite Your style is Pascal, mine is Basic and just instinct I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and Murray got up on big links And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the locksmith Started a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like bostage I switch styles like a channel with controls that are remote Engage in a page, and with words I elope Walking down the aisles with styles I freak the viles Anti-Nazi when I rocks like a Z-28 At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned them microphones They couldn't house the shit so they had to rent to own It's like that, coming from the go rapper I wanna bone Jada Pinkett and that hoe Patra So keep on, and you don't, now come on Ah keep on, and you don't Sometime when I'm alone in my room I stare at the wall And in the back of my mind I hear a wack-ass rhyme And I catch Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get charged Like a nigga in position with the stolen card the credit Fuck flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit My mellows call me Never , they be like Never's going to get it Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to poetics That's why cats be like Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! Other studs come through to see what I am up to They be on the dick of crew that be giving us sweet and buying us fruit Like Kareem I got the hook up, brothers look out because they look Rest in peace to ?Heavena?, washing tons of rappers like Booker Tee told me You gotta get out of the crib, get into the world How you going to come off with the style that's thourough? It's like that, keep on, ha ha It's like that, keep on My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat cock I'm real like a fight with my rap, rappers I slapbox Back I got my rap, now get your glock out the black face Got tall flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race Just cause you got Adidas with the fat laces and the fro don't make you hip-hop You sorry excuse for funk rap Why is there so many cranks trying to rhyme, yo funk that The real shit's starting to come back The Go is where I'm from and where I'm at, jack I started eating cat when I was 10 Before dinner I was getting big dog like Glen Robinson I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind But comes a time when you gotta get off of that booty The facts of life I didn't learn from watching Tootie But living in the big city but I still like Tootie cause she got big titties My style is steep, I write rhymes on the incline Splat guts plus fat nuts and lay up like a crib line I'm slamming, jamming on the one I'm a bad man, you're just a good son, come on

Mr. Pitiful

Big Daddy Kane "Taste of Chocolate"
[Big Daddy Kane] Mmm.. mmm, yeah Oh I like this I wanna tell this story A little story about umm.. .. a brother who you would think has everything goin for himself But apparently for some reason he just ain't happenin I call this brother Mr. Pitiful I wanna tell you somethin about him, check it out The story begins in 1984 when I met the BizMarkie out in front of the store He used to tell me all the time, Yo your lyrics is hype We got to get together and make a record of some type I said, Man, the hype behind Run-D.M.C. and Cool J What the fuck makes you think they're gonna give us a play We did a few shows together, freestylin on stage Manhattan and Long Island, for Mike and Dave After that, I was convinced we can do it until my man Biz jetted and came out with Make the Music.. From right there, I said, Man, this shit is real Look at Biz in the new leather and a pair of spot bills I got to give it to you Dukes, I was wrong Well you out there now, so put my black ass on and sure enough, huh, in about a year's time I was R-A-W, goin for mine Droppin jams that slammed on every radio program And bam, GOD DAMN, look where I am The first album, _Long Live the Kane_, it sold about umm.. AWW FUKKIT it went gold The money was comin in, yes I had done em in It wasn't quite hard for me to find a woman then Cause I was in demand for lots of fans A sexy chocolate guy in the public eye I bought myself a condo out in Queens A plush white Volvo and drove off the scene But I remained the same since I moved out for instance - drinkin Olde E and Guinness Stout And also, hangin out with the troops Most of all, takin care of Ma Dukes Then all of a sudden things started to change And many old friends started actin strange Behind my back, sayin I'm soft and a sucker Some even said, Yo let's rob the motherfucker And family members askin for my papers But Biz set them straight, by makin The Vapors Girls cryin pregnant, to get some of my green I'm like, What the fuck is this Billie Jean People harassin me, steadily askin me dis or dat, some even had the audacity to say that I only liked light-skinned women Tchk, huh, are you kiddin Cause I love everyone and I never act prejudiced to none But for some reason people make my lifestyle so critical That's why they call me Mr. Pitiful A few people know what I'm sayin Hmm, to the Little Daddy Shane, you know what I mean and to my man Cool V, you know what I mean To T.J. Swan, you know what I mean and to Scoob and Scrap, you know what I mean To Rob Base and E.Z. Rock, you know what I mean The Magnum Force, you know what I mean And to the playboys, you know what I mean To Shemp Shawn, you know what I mean and the F.M.C., you know what I mean Can't forget Miv, you know what I mean Godfather D, you know what I mean My man Doug E. Fresh, you know what I mean and the fifty dollar crew from Canada know what I mean But most of all I can't forget my man Biz-Mar-KIE And may I send this to A.J. Quest, Rest In Peace

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