Freestyle lyrics

These City Streets

Original and similar lyrics
these city streets got a nigga packin heat for bustaz no time to reli on these bitches cause theres riches to make some niggaz is fake but we separate them from the real and still maintain the squrill that fills my pocket wit green idamean soldier to solrier marchin stay of dosja holdin the strap how im supposed to puttin cowards deep under the dirt like a flower get deboured when my weapon shower from los angles south central 49th and sampedro cant nobody yell louder

All 4 Nuthin'

Eightball "Lost"
[Featuring Bun B Of UGK] [EightBall] Check 1 2 Check 1 2 baby yeah uh 1 2 1 2 microphone check 2 somebody better tells these mothafuckers how we wreck fools Disrespect fools Check and snap necks too Chrushin' duos Sittin' waitin' on the next 2 Nigga me and Bun got the extra clips and bullet proofs Gone off illegal shit bustin' out the sunroofs Scatterin' niggaz chatterin' About where they been Where they from, why they hate me, and relate me with Stereotipical, down South country shit On the real, we on the hustlin' makin' money shit It's EightBizall makin' nigga feel Memphis, Tenn Makin' hip-hop, funky as a chit-a-lin Bitter men, mad, thinkin' that they better men Knockin' at the Suave House door, but we won't let 'em in Hoes and niggaz, got a lot of shit to talk about Runnin' your mouth, can get you dead, deep down South Chorus: [EightBall] I don't know where ya been, And I don't know what ya seen But I know deep down South, It's all about the green [Bun] Now, I don't know what ya seen, And I don't know where ya been But I know deep down South, ya keep your G-U-N [EightBall] I don't know what you've done, And I don't know what you do But I know deep down South Nigga, it's all on you [Bun] Now, I don't know what you do An I know what you've done But we can't tell ya 'bout nobody else, But Ball and Bun [Bun] I see no evil, Say no evil, Hear no evil, Try not to get in no evils Raised up on Briz and Biz Bo-wevils Ain't no sequels for your people when we touch down South gon' put that crush down Nigga lay your philly, and you'll touch down Takin' that shit so much clown Don't even sound real no mo' Your cap'll get peeled, slo-mo Fuck you and that steel .44 I'm triz, oh hoe Pay your dumbasses no nevermind Flip flows, so clever shine Like diamond grapes on leather vines Forever I regard it As the first fool that started Movin' gassed up niggaz till they farted Hands, black hearted, cold Get retarded Like slingblade, it bring made niggaz I played niggaz Still wanna see a thing fade niggaz I stay niggaz That is the fight, what you believe Give you life room to breathe But tonights the night for you to leave As soon as sleep Ain't got, no tricks up, Your still get mixed up From Southern black macks That stay gettin' they dicked sucked Chorus [EightBall] Crooked as the first letter in the word South Niggaz who be 'bout gettin' paid, even when it's a drought Fuckin' some stout, smokin' out At my nigga house 98 live, side bet and gettin' screwed out Screwed up, drinkin' my cup Grippin' my nuts Hoes be jockin', but eager niggaz get setup Wet up, fucked up, what's up? Test us, guess what? True but, you just, messed up Deeper, than encyclopedia Britanica If Ball don't do it, then Bun-B gonna handle ya [Bun] To all you Betty Crocker, Cock knockers that wanna cook a cake But don't know what it took to make that bitch, Take a look you fake And switch your recipe Niggaz always takin' tests of me Pressin' me, just to see the stress and hate Bring the best of me Leave your mouth open, sesame seed I seperate from stem and weed Me, I go, murder Murder them in deep blood clot They get all red hot from lead shots And what not Mine, I go dead after red dot And buckshot, So bitch niggaz get the fuck out Leave suckas stuck, fuck props This where the buck stops Chorus [EightBall Talking] Yeah, Euphoric images Psycadelic gangsta shit This is fuckin' groovy man I'll be back 3004

Splish Splash

Cappadonna "The Pillage"
Rzarector in the shadow Tru Master in the shadow Golden Arms in the shadow 12 O'clock in the shadow Verse 1: Crushed off the bag of dope I felt pity My cold thoughts evole around New York City Evidence ?sir? in the tunnel where the train enter Be the gat from the old time 86 crime opposites attract My electrical shine ?ok? polly see me downtown 2 blue cops wit Rollie Fingers We the Razor Sharp Wu-Tang singers, hum dingers Try to connect wit pros, drug slingers Keep heat under they clothes, everybody in the project knows My rap shot's hot but suppose you get Caught up in the mix, a ?non fix? of convicts Conflict the prejudice, unrealistic Politics, economics, chicks, counterfeit 2 face, they cliques be getting rubbed like vicks Right off the dirty water, south of the border Reporters and cotten bald heads paid they quarters To see the spectator perform, cameras are litting The return of the swarm, the nighttime storm Little kids got bit by the rap exorcist My chainsaw mouth split tracks for the fuck of it Travel wit the rich, politic Put your money on my dick Baby, Wu-Tang is Navy Park Hill, Staten Island seal Rock the real to real, we ?high hill deep? Creep, sweep beats off they feet Teach in the cracks of the street My family incomplete unless the Abbot in the seat South of the border Shaolin in the shadow Medina in the shadow The Emerald City in the shadow Verse 2: Mysteries revolve around my unorthodox sound Splash you, I'm still the best in town Striving for perfection wit my new rap investment My testament, my own apartment, on a confy pay rent More time is spent wise Chambers of the Orient franchise, we fat like thighs Too much french fries, not enough shake Rza blow orchestra earthquake No set date Me and Bobby Steels got a cabin in Crystal Lake Industries bug out Hit Madison Square house, roll the red rug out I'm loyal to the Clan, dedicated to the South South of the Border

Cake And Eat It

Dead Or Alive
Uhhh Uhhhh Uhhhh All ma dawgs Chorus: It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop It's bigger than hip hop, hip hop stic.man: One thang bout music when it hit you feel no pain White folks say it controls your brain I know better than that, thats game And we ready for dat 2 soldiers head of tha pack Matter fact who got da gat? Rather attack than not react Back to beats it dont reflect on how many records get sold on sex, drugs, and rock n roll whether yo projects put on hold/ And tha real world (is bigger than all these fake ass records) the moment my people die and my womans' disrespected In the real world (we just people wit ideas) we just like you until tha smoke and cameras disappear If you check 1,2 tha word of advice to you is just relax Do whut you got ta do If dat dont work then kick the facts If you a fida rida chronic stay ebonics or if you wanna just get high then just sing it But if you a liar, liar pants on fire wolf crier Agent wit a wire then i'm gonna know it when i play it Chorus M-1: Who shot Biggie Smalls? If we dont get them They gon get us all I'm down for runnin up on them crackas in they city hall We ride for y'all All ma dawgs stay real Nigga dont think these record deals Gon feed yo kids n pay yo bills' Because they not Fake mc's get a lil bit of love And think they hot Talkin bout how much $ they got Nigga y'all records sound tha same I'm sick of that fake thug [email protected] rap scenario All day on tha radio Same scenes in tha video Monotonous material Y'all dont hear me though These record labels slang our tapes like dope You could be next in line and sign Then rhyme and now your broke Would you rather have a Lexus or justice? A dream or some substance? A Beamer, a necklace or freedom? A nigga like me dont playa hate I just stay awake And its real hip hop And it dont stop Till we get tha Po Po off tha block They call it Chorus DP's got dat crazy shit We keep it crunk up John Blaze n shit Repeat 4x

Deliver

Chino XL "Here to Save You All"
[Intro] Yeah To all the real hardcore motherfuckers Soft motherfuckers With the bitches that don't give a fuck! [Chorus] Now who wanna diss to get they reps a little _bigger_ How many bitches wanna fuck this _yellow nigga_ You get your whole crew cut like a scissor Watch this world shake from the album I deliver [Verse One] I threw a Brownstone at Brandy now she's Changing Faces Standing in my Aaron Hall I'm Blackstreet packin suitcases Goin back to Indiana, on the Subway Soul For Real, missjones is my usher in church on Sundays Clear the runways, cause I'ma make you rappers my examples Avoiding battling me like I'm Eazy-E's blood samples It's me and Carey, nah never wrote no rhyme that's ordinary Won't throw my life away on coke like Darryl Strawberry Removing you skeletal system playing your ribs like xylophones I'm nastier, leave you scraped and ashier than Larry Holmes But ladies I ain't always violent You could pump pump until the dawn, like Adina Howard Can't You See, I'm Notorious as Total get Uptown Girls in bed, like Billy Joel do Laverne and Shirle, give us any room we'll break it Remember you was wack remember Ice Cube had a jheri curl BAMMMMM!!!! Dead on your car horn chump My beat get messy as abortion on the ninth month Now who be that, slap, did iiii do that? Now Whoopi Goldberg goes Steve Urkel but I'll leave your grill The Color Purple Give you a Dogg Pound, could even Dru Down Provoke me album is weak your whole shit sound like karaoke Conversation, loss of limbs amputation Head meaning decapitation rough like Craig Mack derm abrasion Evil tendency, strong like Miles Davis heroin dependency Fuckin up lives like teenage pregnancy [Chorus] [Verse Two] Them clowns like Will Smith got fast cars and fancy homes But I'm headstrong, I could even break Puffy Combs Some kids still doubtin and they girlfriend stalkin keep it real We'll cross that bridge when we come to that Anita Hill Now Ever_last_, will never _last_, with no ghetto _pass_ Leave you breathin hard like bitches at lamaze _class_ Niggaz are slippin when they sippin gin and tonic smokin chronic Jersey niggaz packin more handguns than Harry Connick My style is welfare, half of you bitches is on it!! Was born with a halo, when broke, I had to pawn it I stir up controversy and sell I'm like Sister Souljah So bring out bum-ass Russell Simmons cuz comedy's over The Lucci I'm worth is enough to deficit a nation With media coverage like a hostage situation (yeah and if you lovin them hoes you betta bounce back) Tryin to make that bitch your wife she fucked the whole New Jersey Drive (soundtrack) High like Stone Temple Pilots, Pearl Jams on tour Rrrraahahrra rrrarhraarah I rips it like a chainsaw Dig deep as truth go ahead and shoot your Karl Kani suit in shock absorbing tired and I'm wide like a police informant Pray with one eye open, shootin more Led than Zeppelin Dysfunctional like the Jackson's, death is my obsession You comin through with thirty cowards think you causin fear Rush lookin bust in your boosted Donna Karan gear Now fuck the po-po, beats down the five-oh Been there, done that, do it again tomorrow nigga Sometimes I vibe inside a spot where nobody else knows me Until I come hot steppin like Ini Kamoze [Chorus]

New York

AZ "A.W.O.L"
[Intro: AZ (samples)] Yeah... "the city" This is serious, here "number one" New York! It's beyond the 5 boroughs "keep it real" "I get ill" "Number one" This will rock! "the city" "I gotta get in" [AZ] This is that, Riker's Island, not slipping rap flows For them box bitten bing monsters, sniffin' that blow Block covers know the style, triple that dough Forty cal. for them cock suckers, sittin' back slow What y'all know about coke pies, give 'em that low I mouth them before the bowtie resemble cash flow Rap NY, no lie, my side is back Ghost, so hot Crooked cops are searching your asshole, it's the drop That freeze niggaz right where they stand for the gwap Niggaz'll play Pac and pop with they man, it don't stop We up top, but we locked and landing He roadblock, he flow shots, get Ghost and scram Gingerbread niggaz on the run from feds Shit is sick, pretty chicks'll put a gun to ya head Never a vic', either think quick or end up dead Cuz when we flip, what's left to be said? New York New York, New York, New York [Chorus x2: samples (scratched by DJ Premier)] "New York, New York" "Number One" "New York, New York" "Keep it real" "I get ill" "New York, New York" "Number one" "New York, New York" "The city" "I gotta get in" [Raekwon] You know the town stupid, this is all authentic ground You can get poked, grabbed and choked, then shot up, for product Bank holders stay in the lab, too many dumb niggaz is scheming You can get murked up in the cab Shout out to niggaz that be jerking tags, rollin' in Jags Good boy leathers, hood boys'll blast you Niggaz that carry ones and hit grass And love hip hop, the shit that bring money outta ziplocs Protect your dome, I'm warning you, what harm I do to the kid I have you on the floor with ya armor loose Break the raw down and sign truces Then switch the next muthafuckin' date, fuck all excuses When you see me it's real, I'm just a natural born hustler The castle where they wrap you in plastic, duke So every soldier that's armed, remind your general It's critical, you might stay a night, if you pretendable [Chorus x2] [Ghostface Killah] Yo, we was raised in the dead arm district Before guns was called biscuits, Stapleton was on that hood shit Live from the New York borough, keeping it thorough Bunch of snakes in the grass, stay creepin' like squirrels Cuz a snitch gon' crack that nut, don't give a fuck Did ten hours long and try to wrap us up He dry snitching, post up in the whip with a fly wisdom Hopped out to get a dutch, but he left with his wig splitten We from New York, my city never sleeps (No) We runnin' with a hundred heats When beef pop off, we ain't the one to speak Dressed in all black, driving six feet hurses With sixteen niggaz, dropping sixteen verses Big faces, bolgin' outta big green purses Stuck ya man for his vegi's and his lame ass circus So I dare niggaz act up, y'all niggaz act up Now like cars in reverse, y'all better back up [Chorus x2]

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