G.B.H. lyrics - Wot A Bargain [EP]

Tipuki Thunder

Original and similar lyrics
He lives his life down on the beach, his grilfriend's got the skin of a peach. He likes a good time and he knows how to get it, rolls his own, you've gotta give him credit. As the waves come crashing to the shore, Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more. Don't need booze or no whore, Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more. Tipuki Thunder, maui waui lightning. His pockets bulge with wonders from all over the world, and he's a real big bro' to all the boys and girls. Holds his own but does tend to drawl, he's got a photo of us going over the Niagra Falls. He's a nice guy but don't mess with him, he's a nice guy but don't mess with him. He call us the 'jeebers' and takes us to gigs, 'cus back in the States you know, we're pretty big. But I had to be down, I could not compete, with air in my head and lead in my feet. When he came to London the saw, a midnight flit to find another bed. But back home on the beach he can do no harm, with his video collection and Charlie farm. He's a nice guy but don't mess with him, or you'll end up with a pair of concerete boots.

Got The Shakes

JAMES "The Morning After"
Got the shakes, too much gravy I'm so fried What did I do? Knuckles scraped, please don't blame me Can't hurt a fly I couldn't hurt you Change my shape when I'm crazy Flat stones skim the surface of water Three strikes, and then they go under Don't tell me it's over Please wait for me, I swear I'll go sober Please wait 'til this hell freezes over Some people shouldn't mess with the thunder I'll go sober Don't mess with the thunder I'll go dry, I'll go dry, I'll go dry, I'll go dry It's not over

125 Part 1 (The Bio)

JOELL ORTIZ "The Brick: Bodega Chronicles"
[Intro:] Mirror mirror on the wall Who's the most feared up and coming emcee of them all [Verse:] Joell ortiz what they call you crazy that kid has been nothing but short of awesome lately His mixtape recieved 4 stars in the u.k Toured s.o.b's down several tuesdays Valet it up on hot 9 with kay slay He on nba live 05 Cuz ea sponsored the rap battle last year that he won A flight from l.a headed back to where he from 6 Hours so he copped a little somethin to read son Source mag page 66 was a regun He got unsigned hype the reckonightion had begun Very next monday was double x l's chairmans choice Recently the p.r prray got to hear his voice Now he back in xxl this time show and prove Cuz he writtin hit records and his shows improved He's the dude you need to worrie about 3 More mixtapes done he fin to put those out Thats how he laugh at doubt If i was you i would clear his path Cuz everything about him says you really wanna feel his wrath He turned down 3 deals this last month Labels playing tug a war with his name he who they want He signin over there "Nope" He signin over here "Nope" The both of ya'll wrong he grindin over there In a city near you tryin to strengthen his fan base Layin down cuts like a band-aid He know how many dudes this man paid the list is endless He carry big crates just to get into the club And when he got into the club he gave out his mixtape His work ethic is great his drives like t-mac You let him go share a poster RELAX He's back give him room to breathe All those that hated will all soon believe All those who made it will all soon just leave Once the fans get a whif of mister ortiz He spits raw please dont confuse him with these other cats He's a full workout they 3 jumping jacks Front to back he's an obstacle to overcome I mean you know nothings impossible but dont be dumb He grew up in cooper projects so you know he's slum The only child homie wild he the only one i ever heard nick named the peoples champ Under-dog all his life earned his stripes doin things he aint like Like igniting the fifth all night huggin the strip servin a pregnant bitch hard white He happy his mom's never sucked a glass pipe She use to sniff gettin her off that shit was a fight Why the fuck you think homeboy go hard when he writes Tryin to make his future bright cuz his past got him tight His cash might be lite pockets empty kid But same time next year its mtv cribs His put his life on it twice on it To make sure he cant ask ? His crib must gon' have a nice price on it Chandaliers with the ice on it, Persian rugs with no mice on it Huge tv screens with classics episodes of miami vice on it Indoor pool and the floor got a mic on it Plaques all over the wall with his name engraved nice on it Man listen his ambition gonna have the game locked like the box in san quentin Fin to win his race cuz he ran different In through the no's out through the mouth Not worryin bout his competition radio clout Look straight same pace let them nigga's be out They true colors gonna show later on when they breathin all heavy and they legs is worn Duke gone from havin an ill buzz in the streets To yo dont nobody give a fuck when he speak I know it could happen in a couple of weeks Lifes a bitch aint it? But me i love every picture that this kid painted He's the difference between artists and rappers Artists draw hits rappers take flicks Other rappers trey sick man these nigga's aint shit Everythings basic they should claim the same clique Thats why everything he give hip hop game sick Like the syringe in the vein of an aids patient C'aint spit on this b.k bemis take that The kid is go sign by the dudes who made rap Face facts g-rap told mike he got a problem on his hands Mike is joe's a & r just so y'all understand Krs responded with one word "damn" The cyphers complete once he shake rakim hand He a one man movement General coronel seargent major private and them youngin's on the front lines shootin Gun high troopin through this war with his music And he aint gonna stop till he drop get use to it He speak english fluent his spanish pequeno So doin regeaton a slight problemo plus he sound moreno They aint know he was spanish till he transformed so quick and got his goverment established but none of this matters if you nice you nice You could be ethiopian rhymin for rice You could be hatian tryin to rhyme for your rights You could be south african writtin rhymes for ice You could be cuban rhymin to cop you a nice little boulder to make it to us coast over night It is what it is in this buiss you live When you die thats when your records sales sky high He tryin to rep while he alive his heart still beatin Brain still sumbin his nerves still tweakin Stomach still growlin cuz what he's eatin Aint enough bring the twelve gauge out its duck season give him one reason your carreer is gone Say his name on a song he'll put yours on a tombstone Not a pizza either im talkin everybody blacked down cryin to the wrods of a speakin preacher He's a deep believer and what goes around comes around and whats comin around is dope And what went around is his name and the strength of his flow His ill show his radio apperances and more Some things is maybe's and some things for sure Some niggas is crazy and some nigga's m.o some nigga's is lazy and some nigga's just wont stop workin till they get what they deserve ya know That nigga is joe e double l o r tiz pa' please you one match in the snow He's like a crib on the sun sittin next to the fireplace with the heat on a million and one This young man is hot he'll sun tan your block He gon' keep firing your gun jam alot Heat rise expect to see this man on the top [Outro:] Mirror mirror on the wall Who's the most feared up and coming emcee of them all Joell ortiz what they call you crazy that kid has been nothing but short of awesome lately

The Don's Cheek

ACTION BRONSON "Blue Chips 2"
[Verse 1:] Catch me on Venice Beach working on my base, no blonde streak Swimming trunk, 30K in arm's reach I'm on the boat, in the water like a swan's feet To show respect you kiss both sides of the Don's cheek 360 on the Seadoo in a tux Call my homie, tell him meet me down in Lido Beach for lunch Placido Polanco Crib, his bitch was black She started purring, I kissed the cat Aristocrat, wrist dancing like a disco bass In the holster, same shit color as Sisqo's hair 635 slam like a suplex Cheat off a Chinese kid just like a school test I'm on the hunt for loot, jump out the chunky coupe Hold on, wait till it thunder, here's the gun to shoot Beige leather to the calf, where my math at? You gonna babysit my joint? Then pussy pass that [Hook:] I'm getting paper regardless, I'm never facing no charges I got your honor under the armpit The gavel slam and I walk Hammer dances on the porch, downtown gallivanting with a horse Two different drugs to choose, I need the third thing Oriental style shirt Flapping in the wind like a bird's wing I need that good green, ugh, motherfucker need that good green [Verse 2:] I got the face like a grown lion, my people hold iron Predict the weather by the wind like an old Mayan Hold my son up, show him to the kingdom While all his blood brothers became drug runners in England Made in Queens, Handball courts and 40s Shorties smoking blunts, spades in the corner We moving white like David Spade in the sauna All the money chronological, it look like callaloo Provide the crew designer suits, exotic food Erotic nude and polished shoes, impala smooth Roll up, looking like Sinbad with the earring Lightskin sucking my penis while I'm steering I'm pro [Hook]

Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn

Maestro
Chours: 1 o'clock, 2 o'clock, 3 o'clock rock to the beat that I drop when I flip my hip-hop put this in yo' collection Fresh Wes without a rhyme is like certs without the retsyn I'm coming straight out of Canada far from an amateur LT's my DJ, Flex is my manager I flow so nice so they're calling me the Maestro just pass the microphone fuck the light show real rap is in effect and I'm out to get wrecked on the mic-mec when I make a mic-check not on the sloppy tip I'm harder than a hockey stick exciting niggas like Italian's in a Rocky flick Adrian watch me flow slow or flow fast I'll even make a Spanish brother say no mass I'm wrecking you, disconecting you, disrespecting you hold your smoking ass cheap shit, it'll eventually catch up to you I can make the phony retire, tendoroni perspire she's on my back like my name's Jacobey and Myer, (what's your name?) it's Fresh-Wes with the sweeter beats I make you smile like the brother on the red box of cream of wheat chorus I got more rhymes than Brits in a cathedral my cerebral is lethal nobody's equal, my people wanna hear a funky new style so get with it no dibby-dibby-dibby MC's are permitted I'm wrecking it good (what else) collecting, injecting, and checking it good (where?) Lake Edna or your neck of the woods I'm getting more blow than Chuck Mangeony not a phony but Joanie wanted me for holy matrimony girls like my flavor cause I jam harder let's have a nice quiet date you, me, and my camcorder it's like a power-burst, I'm more than just an hours worth I get down and dirty, but uh honey take a shower first you can't tell me that the bro's soft, I do the cabbage patch, butterfly, and boggle with my clothes off but that's a different chapter I've even got more rhymes than there's groupies of Jack the rapper, on the microphone I slice you and make you say (I knew his rhymes was phat, but his beats are kind of nice too) now is the apocolypse MC's are clocking this they say they got skills but all I'm seeing is a flock of lips acapella, or over a drum track I'm funkier than a group of Jamacians after sun splash chorus the word Maestro is teacher in Italiano I'm from Toronto, causing drama on the the verazono so come and check a real pro grab the peice of steal, yo I make a Black activist say (yes, that's my neigro) when I said the mic's my peice I really meant it so just like the Blue Jays, I'm out to win the pennant so sucker chill, 'cause every head I struck I killed oh, I don't know, is it just me, or am I really that fucking ill chorus

Beach House On The Moon

JIMMY BUFFETT "Beach House On The Moon"
Cameron's getting logical, A Vulcan in disguise, The mysteries of the night are Putting sparkles in his eyes. He's looking for sound reasoning, But the best that I can do, Is this transcendental story, That I'll pass along to you. Past the falls they call Victoria, Down the river named the Nile, Drifts a tiny little handmade boat, It's shaped just like a smile. And steered by a magician, With the knowledge that he needs, To keep him on his destined course, Past the crocodiles and reeds. He's the Admiral of the ocean, The Lone Eagle in the sky, He gave me my first sextant, And he taught me how to fly. It's been quite a lengthy passage, From the dawn of time till now, He has weathered the infernal storms In his trusty petite dow. He has soared about colossal waves, Sailed the endless sea. Sometimes he resembles you, Sometimes he looks like me. I saw him through my telescope, On a cloudless night in June, As he rested between voyages At his beach house on the moon. There are windows to the galaxies And hallways to the past. There are trapdoors to the future And a splintered ancient mast. There are relics from Apollo trips, When the earthmen came to play, And a hammock from a distant star, Out in the Milky Way. He's the Admiral of the ocean The Lone Eagle in the sky. He game me my first sextant And he taught me how to fly. I saw him through my telescope On a cloudless night in June As he rested between voyages At his beach house on the moon. A stripped bass breaks the surface As the sunset fades away And our journey from the Sea of Storms Takes us home beside the bay. We go fishing in the ocean We go traveling back in time Like the song says 'teach your children' To go fishing with their minds. Cameron's contemplating I'm not sure just what he thinks 'Is my dad some kind of lunatic With his stories and high hi-jinks'. Then he says when I get old and gray And feel like I'm marooned, He will take me in his rocket ship To that beach house on the moon.

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