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GETO BOYS lyrics - Grip It! On That Other Level

Trigga Happy Aggin

Original and similar lyrics
[ Intro ] Today's special is Geto dope processed in Fifth Ward, Texas We sell so much of this until they want to know what we put in it OK, I'm gonna share this recipe with y'all Hey John, gimme an ounce of that ether Fifth Ward bass Yeah, aw yeah! Yo Doug! Give me a half a key of uncut drums Aw yeah! Yeah! Say Red, give me a pound of them horns with red (???) cents in it! Yeah, aw yeah! Yeah, aw yeah! Say fellas, give me ton of everything and cut it with the trigger happy motherfuckin' Geto Boys [ Verse 1 -- Bushwick ] We needed money, so I robbed a liquor store Down on your knees she hesitated, I kicked the whore Wanna go for bad, bitch I go for broke Pulled out the 9, think it's a game, she said nope Out comes the manager, mother' thought I was bluffin him She knew I was serious, so did he when I busted him Come on motherfucker I ain't playin' so give it up She said the cops are comin', does it look like I give a fuck! You're lucky I ain't horny, I'd be rockin' ya She let down her hair, pulled up her skirt and said what's stoppin' ya? Bitch you must mistake me for a lollygag Cuz' if I get in that ass, they'll haul me off in a body bag Gimme the money, I'm tired of the waiting shit She said the box is empty I said ain't that a bitch Back to the safe you better open it fast I'm gettin' tired, I'm about to melt a cap in your ass I got all that money that I'm live, how you figure? I'll forever be a trigga happy nigga (gunshots) Don't fuck with me (gunshots) You die motherfucker [ Verse 2 -- Willie D ] Doin' crime in H-Town in my prime Robbed the same motherfuckas 4 or 5 times Where was the cops when I was rippin' off dividends? Out writin' tickets to hard workin' citizens! They ain't never been smart enough to catch me But one day I went climbin' with a pussy He got shot and hit the floor I ran non-stop to my god damn front door Stashed the cash and case A clue led the motherfuckas to my place I grabbed the bill cleaned my popper And what did I hear a god damn chopper Damn, ain't this a bitch, the motherfucher must've snitched I thought about puttin some head to bed But I played the stay instead Surrender, the last day of November, made bond the first day of December Promised myself when I see that snitch, I'd kill that son of a bitch! We scrapped the slate every day I just couldn't put the fuckin' gun away Wait a minute, I'm full of those forties, I caught his ass slippin' at a block party Killed a motherfucka as he said D please Put holes in his ass like rat cheese Squash that shit, how ya figure? I'll forever be a trigga happy nigga! (gunshots) You die motherfucker Say hello to my little friend Don't fuck with me You stupid fuck You die motherfucker Say hello to my little friend (gunshots) I'll take you all to fuckin hell! (gunshots) Don't fuck with me You stupid fuck [ Verse 3 -- Scarface ] Boys on my corner tryin' to run a day game Sellin that phony shit, it's white but it ain't caine Some stupid mother fucker said I owed him I ain't payin' the mother fucker I don't play and I showed him That if you come and front me with that bullshit You card is filed and you'll die when I pull it Cuz life is a gamble when you fuck with a psycho No pity on another it's a game, it's how life goes I'm hip to all the tricks of the trade Killin', and stealin' and gankin' niggas to get paid But this time you bullshitted the bullshitter and found out that I'm a trigga happy nigga Don't fuck with me You stupid fuck You die motherfucker Say hello to my little friend (gunshots) I'll take you all to fuckin hell! Don't fuck with me!

Ballin' Outta Control (In The Element Of Surprise Album)

E-40 "The Element Of Surprise"
Pushed in the game at a young age Feel me touch me as I turn the page A little past ten, roughly about eleven years old dropped in the good location My scratch is smellin sour and it's stinkin got a nigga seriously thinkin How can I kill this odor, and purchase me a Lincoln? Minimum wage flippin patties - nope I'd rather fuck around with Coca-Cola, yola Ice cream, candy, granola, huh Slave for men - that's what they told me and I'll break you off somethin suitable Brought you a key of crack quicker than ? ? recoupable ? future black and beautiful My partners used to be plucked and ugly Hangin around them old squeegee boys Man them the motherfuckers that have love for me They straight cut for me Deal me, touch me, L-O-V-E E-to-the-F-to-the-R-T-Y I spits the shit from the T-O-P It's me, the E, droppin it nuclear all the time Motherfucker comin from the motherfuckin.. mud Fuck you niggaz, you think I sell my soul But I'm way too cold, motherfucker! Chorus: LeVitti Sittin in my livin room Thinkin of, a master plan Tryin to find a way out Then I snatch the scratch, and laugh So I painted me a picture of a life, to make a dream Can you feel me now Ballin outta control, ballin outta control Fresh off the showroom flo', bought me a ninety-fo' Now I'm havin long money, like Ross Perot, so take notes from a big ol' ? pimp, pretty much established Livin out of hand lavish Throwin parties ? with big time folks makin big time cabbage Become a savage, get swoll by ones Twenty a drum's established Six figure digits, just like I tell you like I got the whole city sewed up in stitches Your product'll win if you gots top grade Keep, your law-yers and your bail bondsmen paid The word on the street's is that I done came up too fast Motherfuckers want a piece of my soul Playa haters wanna cut my grass You don't wanna bring your bitch to what type of ? out of control sittin on tickets Million dollar spots, technology chops and a motherfucker proud fool-assed ridiculous Straight fuckin em up like that, throw me my strap man ? feel me Reverend would you put some blessin oil on my head and hear me I never sell my soul cause I'm way too cold Motherfucker! Ballin outta control Interlud: LeVitti This ol' game, kids they run Never get a second chance so take me to this world Now there's always time, to getcha I guess by now you get the picture of what I'm tryin to say I'm ballin outta control Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin Every other fuckin day I'm tellin my sahies how to quit Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin We can get it on, we can get it on Niggaz trippin off me cause I was a young motherfucker ballin Forty-Water, straight lettin em know Even though my pocket's fat and my belly's bigger.. gots to come Sic-Sic-Sic-Wid-It Throw, the hoe Y'know in a big ass gumbo pot Full stir Let it settle to make it lock Horse races, trips to Vegas, frequent flier Whassup you timah, when your ass gonna retire? I ain't knowin Keep tellin myself that I'ma call it quits But I got myself Too much motherfuckin cabbage out there runnin in the streets Lookin up out the way for the one-time Po-Po Penelope seriously concentratin Noided as I watch the back for all of my chemistry cause fools be playa hatin Lucrative spots and blows, investments bonds and stocks Esquired land and crops, techno chops and glocks Cause niggaz be tryin to make movies when they get all in front of these bootch ass hoochies I be like poppin the cap like a hungry mother I ain't even gon' lie I'm to' Twoasted, looped, to' back, souped Plastered, puked, on the get back fully recouped Fuck these niggaz they think I'll sell my soul But I'm way too cold, motherfucker! Chorus [LeVi]

Top Of The World

HOODIE ALLEN "All American"
[Verse 1:] Bad girls, all in the mad world Gave 'em the mace flow, Don't know they dad girls Tell em I got a place they can visit that's near the beach You never settle for nothing, but money is what you preach So peace, to the old life Got the same old car but now a days I don't drive Kicking it with people that do wrong their whole life And yeah I'm still up on that high horse, old spice And they don't want to mess around They just want to get in for free Don't we all man? It's feelin fantastic Get up on my level where you at bitch? [Hook:] Oh, I'm on top of the world I'm on top of the world We making money right now Yeah, yeah, we making money right now Oh, I'm on top of the world I'm on top of the world We making money right now Yeah, yeah, so let me give it all out [Verse 2:] Can you make your booty bounce like hers? Ah, ah, is everything I ask absurd? If I dig a little deeper, can I get below the surface I paid all my attention baby, don't that mean I earned this? I went from working at google, to watching my google alerts Now, I got a buzz bigger than Google Earth All my fans are virgins, let me get a word in I ask him who they favorite is, they screaming "You the first" I like to hear that, hear that They been telling my we're back, we're back In business, but now a days who isn't Treat it like a holiday every time you visit Don't be dumb and fall in love with an actress She ask what room Ewing, Patrick And now I'm always on top, like a fasten Get up on my level, where you at bitch? [Hook] [Bridge:] I take all my days, And rewind them back Throw it all away, And let the real shit last I take all my days, And rewind them back Throw it all away, And let the real shit last [Verse 3:] Standing at the top of the world yelling Geronimo From the top of my lungs, made it on to the honor roll Your boy made it, the education was worth it I know you paying for dinner, but let me pay for desert It's the most that I can do, and the least that you deserve I can't afford a lot, but I can give you my word Word, it's real talk, but they be saying we average Get up on my level, where you at bitch? [Hook]

Babies With Guns

AESOP ROCK "Bazooka Tooth"
Radio check check Video check check This is how the city-folk and mole-people connect-nect Somebody warped the message, tried to pass it to the next next Data-perforated counties making you upset-set Harvest all Brand-X Clark Kents to worm food Carbon heart, buried his nozzle in fossil marker art Pardon, cadaver had a legitimate pulse And littered volts all over the village where the skittish pigeons molt Bastard polter-gasps when the pigeon with Lazarus billy-goat whiskers He roasted sea-salt in the open blisters But blind anarchy slips through the cracks See naked martyrs with Bubblelicious on fishing rods itching to pull it back With that organic invention incubated to have some [?] to make it through [?] on paper now, a lot of details later And lot of crews will taper out A wooly mayor souse, who [?] happy shooting at the bladed mouth Bazooka Tooth zoo-keep the paper route with janky funds and favors Cradled by twelve empty Zelda heart containers Man, it's freezing in this brick bitch, winter forever Like Punxatawny Phil found with his four furry wrists severed I walk face-first through the sex, drugs, and church With wild things that make Maurice Sendak question his early works But no hostages, no promises Out the clock corporate constant sprockets Now clocked-off grommets Running from a rabid ring-wraith click basilisk Serpentine, in and out of traffic jam and murder scenes Scrub blood of the AF-152, pick up first degrees Some toddlers smuggled Tommy guns and crack into the nurseries Dog, there's a fucking baby at the door asking for wallets (yeah?) And those ain't twin Beanie Babies inside his pockets (nope!) 2010 sonograms showed the Magnum formed directly out the fetus Evolution for the young killer convenience Radio check check Video check check This is how the city-folk and mole-people connect-nect Somebody warped the message, tried to pass it to the next next Data-perforated counties making you upset-set Magazine check check Paper route check check This is how the hermit and the busy bee connect-nect Somebody's losing track of their flesh-and-bloods and arrests-rests Polka-dotted landscapes, what did you expect-pect? Now a-days, even the babies got guns Diaper snipers having clock-tower fun Misplace the bottle, might catch a bad one Have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young If this Jesus piece around your neck is bigger than your pistol It makes homicide okie-dokie and your god will forgive you Just show the saints at Heaven's gate you should be on the list "I heard he overlooks manslaughter for a tattooed crucifix" Twisty, fishy, contradicty, wild animal ship fleet Off the sliding board dock of the Mr. Turtle pool mom bought Somewhere they laminate dry bones and cool water and ease medulla After you thumb-suck and diaper-change get burped and shoot the school up I'd do it too, but only to exploit no-brainers Teenager beef passed alligator teeth and extra-curricular flagpole scrapping Amongst tadpoles that have yellow backbones De-mechanism brought airborne shrapnel scraps to hassle captains By the itchy index of an umbilically-garped fraggle baby Fragile maybe, you think? Chopped shop and a mislead, maladjustee trustee locked box Hiding clips that light the sky in seconds like newly communal hop-scotch gives them leverage Cut them with mortars while I mumble in the immortal slang of mushmouth for the anti-led Nirvana I used to think I'd get hit by a bus or something dumb and dumber That or bust the slugs plugged by the newest kiddie thug wonder Self-victim kings who rep a wide pride dosage For tomorrow the holsters are bound to outnumber the roaches I'm not a coach But that won't even jolt the immobile when global terrorism's all the rage and folk get smoked local Block, if you need me (yeah?) I had to bounce to DC (yeah?) To bullet-proof mom's flower garden before the war cheats me (yeah?) If I'm not back in a week tell the crew I said "peace" and lay low Strays don't vacate slow Radio check check Video check check This is how the city-folk and mole-people connect-nect Somebody warped the message, tried to pass it to the next next Data-perforated counties making you upset-set Magazine check check New flash check check This is how the hermit and the busy bee connect-nect Somebody's losing track of their flesh-and-bloods and arrests-rests Polka-dotted landscapes, what did you expect-pect? Now a-days, even the babies got guns Diaper snipers having clock-tower fun Misplace the bottle, might catch a bad one Have a mid-life crisis when you're ten years young Aboard the battleship grey sky The day I got the phone call Jam Master Jay died So now I'll probably never write another "Daylight" Because the stingers [?] into the portable hay-rides It adds it up when a pioneer fall, in comparison to your 99 bottle of beer wall There's banana peels in your hamster wheels, hand cannons in your shoebox, please Mine's got Adidas, rest in peace

My Life, My World

XZIBIT "Man Vs Machine"
My Life, My World Ok, alright, alright. You got me up? Is the Mic On? Yeah. I pledge allegiance to the un-united streets of Los Angeles Check this shit out, yeah yeah...Come on, Ha! You thought I was about to start right there right? Y'all motherfuckers turn this shit up, it's X to the motherfucking Z Yeah...Ha, welcome to my planet.. [Verse 1] Some things money just can't buy From what I seen now that's a God damn lie Been involved in some other shit, ran from the government Landed the mother ship, thanks for the ride My niggaz still bang like the wrath of Cain Fast lane, smack ya bodyguard and take ya chain And it's all in another day's work for me I spit the truth, the truth gone set y'all free SO- What's my anti-drug? Drugs! Anti-drugs is when I can't get none, for fun I drop flows, punk the punk rappers Load clips for nines and clap with gun clappers Listen, too many motherfucking cooks in ya kitchen Missin' the most important part of life 'cause you bitchin' Bitchin' so much you should tuck ya nuts And dick between ya thighs and color your eyes And wax your legs and buy some bras and thongs And go crazy in the nightclub for sisqo's songs You a hook motherfucker with the Jordache look Bring lead with ya heat so the beef can cook [Chorus: Xzibit] Who's sticking to the script like pistol grip? Xzibit, tradition of X-cellence Hit 'em up, this westside G.S.B Openbar all night drinks for free Victory 'cause we make history niggaz actually have the audacity We the shit from the get and we set to win Straight hard on a bitch y'all sensitive (singing) My life, my world, X to the Z The streets done took so much from me Fuck what you heard this is realityyyyy I close my eyes and pray just to see Another day I live to breathe My life, my world, this is realityyyyy (Yeah, Welcome to my planet) [Verse 2] I done had sleep for dinner, natural born sinner Watched fiends suck crack through car antennas Now that we winning motherfuckers aim to get us The game is vicious constant hostile conditions For the times I dropped Jewels and nobody would listen (nope) A new position, got a couple of pots to piss in Got the aim of Oswald nigga I ain't missin' If everybody eating' who the fuck gone clean the kitchen I got vision, and a real deep suspicion About a lot of rappers reps and they street conditions Everybody got bricks of yay, claim they do crimes that pay And tell you that it paved the way (BULLSHIT!) Well only a few niggaz really came up this way With gunplay day-to-day quick to blow you away Trying to sound like snoop, trying to ball like Dre I just think you mutherfuckers ain't got shit to say [Chorus: Xzibit] Who's sticking to the script like pistol grip? Xzibit, tradition of X-cellence Hit 'em up, this westside G.S.B Openbar all night drinks for free Victory 'cause we make history niggaz actually have the audasity We the shit from the get and we set to win Straight hard on a bitch y'all sensative (singing) My life, my world, X to the Z The streets done took so much from me Fuck what you heard this is realityyyyy I close my eyes and pray just to see Another day I live to breathe My life, my world, this is realityyyyy (Yeah, Welcome to my planet)

All In The Mind

ERICK SERMON "No Pressure"
[Erick Sermon] Oh.. yeahhuhh! Def Squad Chorus: Erick Sermon It's all in the mind.. (Pump pump, lickin shots!) *7X* (Pump pump, lickin shots) [Erick Sermon] Aiyyo it's the master rap maniac, comin fat like dat That's my habitat, with the funk track From the Boondocks, when I rocks my styles out the docks Who who? I hear someone knockin at my door It must be Soup, a black human bein I think it's about time for y'all to see him [Soup] Sometimes I get blindsided with the flow, I never know They yell HOE, assumin the motions of a cool flow Notions of a cool, it's the S, Ohhhhhh Never come test, noooooooo, cause even the best'll have to go out with the rest, Nestea and a bag of sess for me Ackninckulous, I kill the weeds in my chest [Erick Sermon] Back on the rebound, it's the magnificents funkdullah Old schooler, more sole/soul than Dr. Scholl-ah Freakin wicked so it sticks in your dome On the chrome microphone so I take it home Don't neglect, just respect, the mic check Don't forget, I still snap necks and come correct I leave the microphone burnin (burnin) Green Eyed Bandit, my ? full name is Erick Sermon [Soup] Erick Sermon, sermon with the preaching I'm fuckin up people's heads without speaking, without speaking Clearly, loudly, niggaz crowd around the speaker to hear me freak the, note like Tamika But sweeter, sixty phoneta, sneaker if you peep the, jams and you reap the fields with the roots and uh, my name is Soup, and uh I flow like orange juice or Tropicana, and uh Chorus [Erick Sermon] Breaker breaker, shh, I hear some static Stop and get my automatic, the rusty one from the attic And shoot, or be killed, and if I ill I might cause a bloodspill so I have to chill and get totally disgusting on the microphone Whyyyyyyyyy, because it's onnnnn (it's on, IT'S ON) It's on (IT'S ON, IT'S ON, IT'S ON, IT'S ON!!) [Soup] The industry is a trick, and everyone is on the dick A cheap trick, just like ? like ? I peep it, everyone, wants me to sound like a ?, I'm dyin, before I get up from behind It's crushin up the rush of the rhyme in my mind Drink and trust - blind, think and trust - my, nine Because, nine lives nine triggers Fine rhymes equal the nine figures Yeah the cold cash, I hold a bold stash Yeah pockets next to my nineteen year old ass Yeah, God bless the child with his own God bless the roots and outsiders who zone Motherfuckers caps, get bucked in the dome Lick a shot, in his mad packed crazy chrome Chorus (+ Soup shouting over) [Soup] Like that, but it's all words Words can kill more pens, than guns, and friends and foes, God knows, I chose the pros that rose, still froze-n, chose-n, YOU S-O-U and the P, E, R-I-C-K Erick Sermon, kickin a rhyme this way Yeah! It's all in, your mind It's all in, my mind It's all in, my mind..

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