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AZ lyrics - Decade 1994-2004

Sunshine

Original and similar lyrics
Once again, firm affiliation Like we say; the show must go on [Chorus: x2] Sunshine – we hustle to the moon light Reminisce on a good time Cop come on boget Yo when times get trifle I'm subjected to street survival See many never complete they cycle Other retreat to bibles, living holy But currency seem to control me, moving coldly In the presence of old parolies My mind mold me, keep me in mack mode like Goldie Police know me, but ain't got enough to hold me I follow rules, through the knowledge, swallow jewels A form of teaching, from the streets never taught in school You caught you lose, a wise man utilize tools Solitude certifies all moves So I walk this path of the old dread, that lead me off the Ave Absorbing fast, learning from niggaz I lost in the past Its poison plays in these foul days Housing cops and they foul ways, I'm walking through a wild maze Holding my brain trying to maintain Sleet hell, snow, or rain, I guess the game will never change [Chorus] Since the genesis, paraphernalia circle my premises Poor images, project life drained my innocence It's all the worst genocide, I guess the water's cursed My old earth identify, though her soul is for the church She prayed for peace, hoping I'm saved before she lay deceased To say the least, the one to wise to play the streets I know the ropes, certain niggaz to slow to cope & though I sold some Coke, it was only to stay afloat Amongst the frozen hearted, some bending, some departed Inhaling chocolate, tracing back to where it started The Crack wave 2 for 5, deuce and trays The Mack sprays, puffin' lye, truth & days & though it sound ill, through all the foul shit, I'm down still All around real, rough is the grounds in Brownsville I know the ledge, meditating, holding my head Eyes red, it's "Doe or Die" till I'm dead [Chorus] I played all positions, plus learned from each mission Politic wit all type niggaz wit different diction I did it up, from young in some cunt, the way I hit it up Bugging off my first Philly Blunt, and how I lit it up But time flying, playing these corners I'll let it slide by Smoking lye, homicide, coke supplies dry So play the game, other slow up change the lane Awaken, unchain the brain in exchange to take away the pain It's a part of scriptures, put together wit different mixtures They tricked us, got us trapped in taking pictures Interrogating, locating, destination, estimating Or play a part of them investigating It's on going from them killers, to them broads hoeing Unknowing first time felons on trial blowing So burn your clips and sit back, learn your shit The last of these real reps left turned legit [Chorus]

Streets Is Callin

B2K "You Got Served Sountrack"
Verse 1: Omarion Last night tryin ta make it home. I get this call on my phone. Stop yellin, slow down, I can't understand a word you sayin. Did you say my nigga got hit? Did you say he didn't make it? Please tell me you know who did this. I'm on my way and somebodys gonna get it. 'Passed by him on the highway' O: Seen him. 'And my baby in the background' O:Pleading 'Come home and leave it alone!' O:Its out of the question, girl its on. 'What about his newborn child?' 'And you know that he was wild' O:I don't wanna hear this shit right now, when they just stretched my nigga out. (Chorus) I've been going through some things. I struggle with my inner man. I'll hustle, I'll do what I can to get this money. I know I promised you some things. There's gotta be a better way. Its not easy to make that change. The streets keep calling me. Verse 2: Omarion By my name saying: 'How ya gonna get paid?' 'No education equals minimum wage.' 'Minimum wage equals minimum play.' 'And you know real niggas wanna play.' Won't you come on and move these waves? School don't guarantee a higher place. That's the shit that'll get me locked away. Man they tryin ta give a nigga all day. Now I'm out here every night commin in late. If you slip then I'm commin for the take. It's going fast and I need to hit the brakes. The greater the risk, the more you make. All my thoughts are in the clouds. 'What about just shutting down?' But girl I really can't quit right now. Notice on the door, they tryin ta throw us out. (Chorus) Although I was raised right. Still these streets ain't nothin right. They can change the course of life. And you know that I know that I must grow to see my kid grow. But still the streets is all i know.

Cash Still Rules / Scary Hours

WU-TANG CLAN "Wu-Tang Forever"
[Raekwon] Shake them niggaz Scary hours no money out, smash the Guinness Stout Play the outfield, Lucille, switched cracks on shields She's a rich fiend, sacrifice her fam, shift them niggaz to Queens, Guess jeans she charged thirty-five beans Hit the cell phone, regulate with well known tone A Wally kingpin, who also slam and strike edition Whattup, Corleone smoke the bone Tone phone me Whattup he tried to slang there, address him with chrome only Grady with the gray beard, transport for him Rockin Nike at Rastafarianburg, pipin that Switchin Benzes, ten carat nigga with gold lenses Frontin like he's sittin on a lump he's sittin on junk You wanna pull a heist, draw guns and robberies You wanna rock rep, step in yellow Wallabies Names arraigned, the century fox, little glocks Them niggaz with stocks, wail on your blocks Rich lifestyle, small like an ordinary white child But right now, Son is still shine, shed light now Breakdown, liquidate God, fuck it grab the nickel plate Spencer for Hire, tension when we mention Dryer He's a slave cop, behave pop Blue suits who bay stop us blow that cat at the Purple Haze spot [Method Man] I remember stickin fiends at the one-six-ooh when we was starvin, duckin five-oh, payin em dues Times is hard in the slums I'm from, they got us barred in We warrin and cage dodgin, rippin and robbin Got the NARC sabotagin, slippin cracks in your camoflougin, now you snitchin on the squadron That's somethin niggaz can't pardon City overrun by young gun with bad intention, and Wu-Wear garment So I see no need to mention, the potency of a sting from a killa bee, kickin the battery out the back of them wisecracks Distorted for your get high you hijack These friendly skies ain't for you, they for me and mine This the year of the grimy nigga, ragtime Keep these niggaz on the run, peep my Clan emblem Iron Lung ain't got to tell you where it's comin from Catch us swimmin with these sharks now, you rap villains (I feel the same way you niggaz feelin) We feel the same way you feelin, let it be known (let it be known) [*together*] What the blood clot you niggaz dealin, you crash dummies Cash rules, still don't nuttin move but the money [Ghostface] Aiyyo strongarm that kid right there with wavy hair Billy Johnson, snatched him out his whip in Times Square Took his Pumas, nameplate, dude lost weight Summer eighty-eight, started a fight, that can't wait Ask Dorothy, same kid pussy up in Marsey Blazin that Tad Rossi, up in the Marquis He lost like a hundred ounces, Jake rushed his houses Had him on the porch, ass no trousers This souped up, individual stuck, the new stuff Same kid cryin on the stand with Judge Cuffner Kissed him with art num it's three to nine style Before he left he flashin his face like Denzel Richard Dale took his Beaver, off the wall pullin his whip Mussy dropped and split his wig with the heater His safe butt was all fucked up, as he had me laughin God you see how he was laid out, in the grass with dirt in his mouth, Slim woke him up told him he wild out Blood leakin from his teeth he smiled like he gunned out Big bolo, stackin his shit financed a Volvo He copped his shit from a small, coffeeshop in SoHo He still pussy, he sell his dust up on the Lower East Posin like he rappin out...

When It's On

Eightball "Living Legends"
(feat. P. Diddy) [Verse 1: MJG] I'm just a drop top flippin', flippin' Fifth of Yacht sippin', sippin' Dope crack that's going in the strip clubs tippin' MJG ah, P.I.M.P. ah Fuck a blind date, oh no, I got to see her The new millennium poet Forever show it, can't blow it If you reap it, you sow it I, pay my, dues And it's the rules that I play by Carry the team like I'm A.I I used to cook rocks, and hit the block And gun in the bushes, and money in my sock Shit, I had hoes way before I was nationally famous I was in the hood strapped up good Watchin' my anus I'm a target splitter The world strongest man hardest hitter Even though you hate I still elevate regardless nigga Step to us boy, look what you done started And we don't even care that your arsenal be the largest [Hook: 8 Ball & MJG, P. Diddy] When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone When it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on When it's on, you better get your shit and be gone [Verse 2: 8 Ball] Look, you niggaz play too much mayne You need to pump yo' brakes Keep a heater nigga need for them restless snakes Right in my face caught a case tryin' to defend my space Dodging snitches police niggaz jumping state to state What kind of nigga run his mouth and snitch out everybody The kind of nigga that's gone end up being a dead body Yo' wife and children gone be searching for their dear ol' daddy They found his headless body tied up in a dark alley It's cold like ice and snow on a nigga soul For bricks or snow, niggaz will fuck you like a dirty hoe Kick yo' door and put and your babies on the floor See you in public fuck who with you let the thang go A nigga tell you don't let business turn personal Fuck what they say cause for gram a nigga hurtin' you Niggaz out here hurtin' fool Nothing is for free mayne Fuckin' with the game That's how that shit be mayne [Hook] [Verse 3: 8 Ball] I was torn this bitch came from the streets I was born Pussy like a little kitty back yellow as corn I don't go around poppin' shit wit' niggaz who talkin' Them niggaz ain't talkin' no more Closed coffin Not often do you see a nigga loyal as I Like that boy from Best Eye nigga ready to die For my bread and them niggaz that considered me family Hold it down mayne I got you til we up there wit' granny [Verse 4: MJG] Cause as soon as I start writing I start going through physical Deeper into my spiritual I'm so fuckin' lyrical MJG the realest the truth the definition Just call me the competition I'm still stomping and pimpin' I'm still working with Diddy, still fuck wit the hood I got the key to the city, the streets is all good My leather is all wood, my gun is still secluded I'm still hoping and praying to God I don't use it [Hook - until fade] [P. Diddy - talking]

Pile Raps

DJ Clue
featuring Beanie Siegal Beanie Mack right guerilla i'm out for the skrilla Face it ain't no replacement for this killa Keep your hands where I can see 'em an don't make me nervous This 4 4 auto mag you don't deserve this shit Kids either don't make me make you a believa I don't do a lotta talkin' I speak wit the heata I run up in your crib put some in your wig Your babies cryin pop pop pop put some in the crib And I want everything not just some of the shit Got niggas comin home at night like you son of a bitch Nigga done tooked me off you shook an soft You can't blink round no crook one look you lost Niggas'll find your bitch to find your bricks See if you love your chick or you love your chips 4-4 snub shit send slugs to the whip Beanie Seigal desert eagle I love this thug shit (Chorus) X2 Yo what you really know what a thug about Locked up in the bing no grub about On the block doin your thing slingin drugs about Tell me what you really know what a thug about A true thug spreads his game linked up in bubble While niggas stay in one lane like the lincoln tunnel I refuse to limit my game to one hustle I don't only sling crack or let the cards shuffle I nowada play c-lo set it of like cleo Aint no tellin first union a melon The first nigga that move put two up in his melon From the 9-2 an beretta parabellum And I run through cats I'ma two gun cat One nickle one black Who want that I done schooled my youngins Gave tools to my youngins Broke food wit my youngins Broke rules wit my youngins Spark my way outta shit and had bad run in's Talked my way outta shit and near death come in Real thugs do what they want say what they feel They never front they keep it real (Chorus)X2 Niggas claim to be thugs you real fuckin suckas Quick ass runnin good fuckin duckas Obey the rules when my glock unloads Cause when I start firin stop drop and roll Duck behind cars hid behind poles Know I live by the code anything goes Real thugs stand up straight never fold And they don't know shit if anything ever blows Thugs don't wanna talk shit out They wanna spark shit out Till the cops come an chalk shit out Blaze wit the toasta extra clip in the leg holsta Face off like Cage and Travolta If you got beef a thug gonna roast ya Talk behind their back a thug gonna approach ya Right mount of stack a thug gonna ghost ya Lay you out flat like a thug suppose ta (Chorus)X2

Call The Ambulance

BUSTA RHYMES "It Ain't Safe No More..."
(feat. Rampage) [Busta Rhymes] Yeah.. Busta Rhymes now, Flipmode now, check it See we in two-thousand-and-three already, catch up to us Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, hah, huh Now motherfuckin case closed The shit blow your speaker, keep turnin your base low Spaz out because I motherfuckin say so Before I blow this bitch like we down in Waco Thick in cock diesel, that's the way we roll Big truck shit, even my bitch whippin the Range Rov' We 'bout to skyrocket and THE WAY WE GO The way the bitches lookin love THE WAY WE BLOW Check it, we light shit up like Broadway yo The crack-head rappers better JUST SAY NO Before I turn stupid and back the heat slow Lay and wait for niggaz in the back street yo Weak flow, take your shit like I'm comin to Repo Create a crowd scene and stack a bunch of people We bustin through the doors, shootin through your peephole The shoot that never miss is like shootin a free throw All you niggaz better go and.. [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people Put they body on the stretcher, carry they ass out Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people Call the ambulance, come and pick up your people I'll put they body on the stretcher, carry they ass out Call the ambulance [Rampage] Catch sixteen to remove your organs H-2-O ridin round in same orbits Notorious from New York to New Orleans House come with the lake swimmin with dolphins Fifty keys with large proportions Caught a few niggaz on money extortions Niggaz snitch, F.B.I. is hawkin Call Johnny Cochran, yo this nigga is walkin Shit, we got to close down the club Me and my cousin Bust, we like Crockett and Tubbs Pushin Lambo's, big chains and dubs Lead the Flipmode security with snubs Uppin club levels, hundred G's and up And if them ducks rollin Bust I'm beatin it up The streets ain't safe, yo we heatin it up The party's on smash, now we tweakin it up The bitches want this dick so they eatin it up [Busta] Now all you bitches better go and.. [Chorus] [Rampage] Flipmode, we in heavy conjunction We shut it down in every function Beat you in yo' head until your brain malfunction Yo Bust, call the label, tell 'em we in production Pinky ring status so it's no discussion Stop talkin shit, niggaz dodgin and duckin I'm cream cheese with the english muffin I still got respect in the Flatbush junction, HEY [Busta Rhymes] Huh, it's like we shakin down a dude We like a pack of dogs that come to take a nigga food My niggaz flip quicker than a FUCKIN interlude I beat niggaz head and blood drippin through a tube Peep bitch, I'm only here to change the fuckin mood And freeze you niggaz money like a nigga gettin sued And leave you in the church watchin your body gettin viewed Don't get it fucked up or even misconstrued All you niggaz better go and.. [Chorus]

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