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J. COLE lyrics - The Warm Up

Knock Knock

Original and similar lyrics
Yea, we fresh off-mutherfuckin South Beach Yea, huh, Sometimes play the villan, sometimes play the hero Sometimes I be dealer sometimes I be primo Sometimes I be feeling, I got a big ego Other times a nigga swim a round like Nemo Uh, small fish in a big ass pond pushed around like a mower on a big ass lawn I get my weight up, Inflat up and make these old niggas open the gate up at the mansions that they laid up in Like, "Hello my name is Cole" I'm walking right up in and well known Don't give a fuck it you gon hate it man, hey fellow Either you follow me or swallow me bitch And I done hit to many hoes to ever pause that shit Now since I just seen my face up in the XXL A few chicks want to text let's chill-how obvious Girls from all over the world is my hobby and I got a chic who stay in DC like a lobbyist My old chick from Rawley that I still like to parley with Just to hear that accent, now come and get that back bent The moans turn to screams I can feel her climaxing Now if you faking that baby you need to try acting Hollywood shit, Had a nigga feeling like the milkman deliver that due to body good dick Feeling like I got game that Karate could'ntkick, Therefore I'm bagging things that you probably wouldn't get, what up! I'm a talk until you tell me shut up Huh, and we can walk the beach until the sun up Huh, I ain't gon lie I'm trynna get some cut up! Ay, so what up! Hey You heard that huh? Oh you ain't heard of me well I prefer that! Uh, I text my number to you did you get that? Huh, well when you lonely baby you can hit back And I I'll fix that Tell me is you with that, hey, ay tell me is you with that Ay tell em is you with that Yea, ay baby is you with that! Yea

Figure You Out

EVE "Eve-Olution"
[Chorus:] Lady look I'm tryna figure you out (OK) I'm tryna find out what you all about (Yeah) Baby girl I wanna get in ya head (My head) Damn is you everything that you said (No Doubt) Mean no harm. I admire ya style (Hmm) Just take a second baby here me out I know ya game you tryna make me shout Yo look I'm just tryna figure you out He approached me boldly. Said he felt me said I'm lookin lonely I had to stop 'em. Tell him daddy chill cause you don't know me He said listen ma mean no harm Just wanna let you know my story yo, don't be alarmed Usually I'm like the bitchy type I'm quick to hit 'em wit a 'Ha yeah, ok aight' 'What's ya name again' But I was feelin dude And to my surprise for once I wasnt being rude had these eyes that'll make you melt So what its corny. That's the way I felt Had this body not a big deal but it helped I mean this nigga had some shit wit 'em And everytime I tried to talk he grabbed my hand and said sweetheart just listen [Chorus] Felt like I was little. Got me back to shy days Is he being real or is he comin at me sideways Said he want a build wit me. I'm like here we go Said he was a regular nigga that liked my flow Confidence is key wit me so I let him go on Casanova sayin shit like damn you got a glow on I'm like he did his homework knowin what I like Cant find nothin wrong on 'em and he might be my type Continued wit his story bout his 3 years in jail How he missed the streets cause being in there was like hell Bout his little daughter Kira center of his world His princess and she know she daddy's little girl I'm lookin at his face-I looked at my watch He smiled said he wished that time would stop I apologized to 'em cause I didnt mean to be rude He said 'I know you busy. Just really wanted to meet you.' [Chorus] Asked me if I had a man I said that I didnt Wanted to know if he could be that wit my permission Told 'em that I wasnt ready. He said 'Yeah right' Told me that I need a real nigga in my life I agreed wit 'em. Told him that'll come soon Let him know that I enjoyed the talk but had to run soon He asked when's the last time I took time for me And if I ever reflected on how shit could be He told me I was blessed. I said 'Dog I know it' He said just a reminder. Feel that way and never blow it, huh Slipped me his number said use it for inspiration Kissd my cheek and whispered thank you for your conversation, huh [Chorus]

Certs Wid Out Da Retsyn

Maestro Fresh Wes "Naaah, Dis Kid Can't Be From Canada?!!"
featuring Percee P Pray to the east pray to the east... Yeah I got my man in the studio One of the illest MC's in the world Rhyme Inspector Percee P Kick some flavor for 94 baby Pray to the east pray to the east Before you fuck around nigga pray to the east ( 2x ) [ Percee P ] Your skills lack while I'm still strapped With real raps and feel that I should kill wack Niggas that peel caps and that ill crap Bigger threat than you with your tec when I rip the set Niggas get smoked like a cigarette, so hit the deck Watch ya chin, nigga, Ho-chi-min when I rock my shit When it comes to props I get lots of it I can get Madonna, money, your threats are minor And bet you find your girl with a wet pijama Drippin with my cassette behind her Got more band trail than your hand's sellin Fans scalin, jam railin like it's Van Halen Skills scored high on billboards, I kill frauds Get real applausesteal broads' hearts at will force Hate a mark, skills lay a squad, and pray to god Don't say a hard verse worse than a plate of lard Percee P wanted for first degree Murder, since you heard it first from me, you worshipped me Fuckin threat, you heard nothin yet No need for buckin tecs, but rappers to duck in fret or upper-jet Mastered art, yo, when I flow something drastic starts Speed up a bastard's heart, great like jurassic park I cut you up like a sharp machete blade Swear to god, only card you can pull if it's Medicaid Done with all this gun shit, fuck who you run with, son split The only thing you shoot is your dick, and it comes quick [ Maestro Fresh Wes ] I'm like a bat outta hell tonight, niggas compell to bite I swell the mic when I like, fatter than cellulite I injure ears of engineers, sendin em into cheers Bringin my peers into tears, don't interfere Critics know I pack a wicked blow I put you in a clinic, so forget it like Riddick Bowe Nigga, go to hell, I flow so well Find another brother or mother or hoe to tell Or a bro to jeal', how's my jam gonna sell? Very well I send you back because you bring the wack I'm into rap, I interact with empty tracks Locked in, wack muthafuckas are blockin The Top 10 while the black radio jocks spin The calmer vibe, the modified I like the harder side, Jeffrey Dahmer tried, but died More words than a hour of scrabble, I got the power to battle Skadaddle or get devoured like the Tower of Babel Adversaries are snotty, some compare me to Gotti I bury a body, then carry a shotie The maestro rips the psycho shit Brain like a microchip, and I'ma excite you with The smoother rhythm, sendin mad crews to prison Who choose to listen while I use my U-4 missiles Collectin the pesos from a stage show Gettin fellatio from a h-o (why) because I say so My ratio expands as I wreck lands Makin def jams like Redman and X Clan I'ma nail the genitalia from Australia to Somalia Cause I'm smooth, just like a sailor I damage em all, bitches give me casual calls I'm slammin and jammin and rammin they vaginal walls Drums are fat over funky tracks Like Perce every verse could make your lung collapse I'm extra-nice, who's next to slice? Before you step to mics, nigga, check with christ You better Pray to the east, pray to the east Before you fuck around nigga pray to the east...

Pray To Da East

Maestro
featuring Percee P Pray to the east, pray to the east... Yeah I got my man in the studio One of the illest MC's in the world Rhyme Inspector Percee P Kick some flavor for 94, baby Pray to the east, pray to the east Before you fuck around, nigga, pray to the east ( 2x ) [ Percee P ] Your skills lack while I'm still strapped With real raps, and feel that I should kill wack Niggas that peel caps and that ill crap Bigger threat than you with your tec when I rip the set Niggas get smoked like a cigarette, so hit the deck Watch ya chin, nigga, Ho-chi-min when I rock my shit When it comes to props I get lots of it I can get Madonna, money, your threats are minor And bet you find your girl with a wet pijama Drippin with my cassette behind her Got more band trail than your hand's sellin Fans scalin, jam railin like it's Van Halen Skills scored high on billboards, I kill frauds Get real applausesteal broads' hearts at will force Hate a mark, skills lay a squad, and pray to god Don't say a hard verse worse than a plate of lard Percee P wanted for first degree Murder, since you heard it first from me, you worshipped me Fuckin threat, you heard nothin yet No need for buckin tecs, but rappers to duck in fret or upper-jet Mastered art, yo, when I flow something drastic starts Speed up a bastard's heart, great like jurassic park I cut you up like a sharp machete blade Swear to god, only card you can pull if it's Medicaid Done with all this gun shit, fuck who you run with, son split The only thing you shoot is your dick, and it comes quick [ Maestro Fresh Wes ] I'm like a bat outta hell tonight, niggas compell to bite I swell the mic when I like, fatter than cellulite I injure ears of engineers, sendin em into cheers Bringin my peers into tears, don't interfere Critics know I pack a wicked blow I put you in a clinic, so forget it like Riddick Bowe Nigga, go to hell, I flow so well Find another brother or mother or hoe to tell Or a bro to jeal', how's my jam gonna sell? Very well I send you back because you bring the wack I'm into rap, I interact with empty tracks Locked in, wack muthafuckas are blockin The Top 10 while the black radio jocks spin The calmer vibe, the modified I like the harder side, Jeffrey Dahmer tried, but died More words than a hour of scrabble, I got the power to battle Skadaddle or get devoured like the Tower of Babel Adversaries are snotty, some compare me to Gotti I bury a body, then carry a shotie The maestro rips the psycho shit Brain like a microchip, and I'ma excite you with The smoother rhythm, sendin mad crews to prison Who choose to listen while I use my U-4 missiles Collectin the pesos from a stage show Gettin fellatio from a h-o (why) because I say so My ratio expands as I wreck lands Makin def jams like Redman and X Clan I'ma nail the genitalia from Australia to Somalia Cause I'm smooth, just like a sailor I damage em all, bitches give me casual calls I'm slammin and jammin and rammin they vaginal walls Drums are fat over funky tracks Like Perce every verse could make your lung collapse I'm extra-nice, who's next to slice? Before you step to mics, nigga, check with christ You better Pray to the east, pray to the east Before you fuck around nigga pray to the east...

My Block (Remix)

2PAC "Better Dayz"
[2Pac] Damn, take a ride, to my block My block, that's right! Heh F'real on my motherfuckin block [Verse One] They got a nigga Sheddin tears, reminiscin on my past fears Cause shit was hectic for me last year It appears that I've been marked for death, my heartless breath The underlying cause of my arrest, my life is stressed And no rest forever weary, my eyes stay teary for all the brothers that are buried in the cemetery Shit is scary, how black on black crime legendary But at times unnessecary, I'm gettin worried Teardrops and closed caskets, the three strikes law is drastic And certain death for us ghetto bastards What can we do when we're arrested, but open fire Life in the pen ain't for me, cause I'd rather die But don't cry through your despair I wonder if the Lord still cares, for us niggaz on welfare And who cares if we survive The only time they notice a nigga is when he's clutchin on a four-five My neighborhood ain't the same Cause all these little babies goin crazy and they sufferin in the game And I swear it's like a trap But I ain't given up on the hood, it's all good when I go back Hoes show me love, niggaz give me props Forever hop cause it don't stop... on my block [Chorus: a bunch of kids - see the liner notes] Livin life is but a dream Hard times is all we see (on my block) Every block is kinda mean But on our block we still playyyyyy But on our block we still playyyyyy... [Verse Two] Now shit's constantly hot, on my block, it never fails to be gunshots Can't explain a mother's pain, when her son drops Black male slippin in hail when will we prevail Fearin jail but crack sales got me livin well And the system's sucidal with this Thug's Life Stayin strapped forever strapped in this drug life God help me, cause I'm starvin, can't get a job So I resort to violent robberies, my life is hard Can't sleep cause all the dirt make my heart hurt Put in work and shed tears for my dead peers Mislead from childhood where I went astray Till this day I still pray for a better way Can't help but feel hopeless and heartbroke From the start I felt the racism cause I'm dark Couldn't quit the bullshit make me represent Hit the bar and played the star, everywhere I went In my heart, I felt alone out here on my own I close my eyes and picture home... on my block [Chorus w/ minor variations] [Verse Three] And I can't help but wonder why, so many young kids had to die Caught strays from AK's and the driveby Swollen pride and homicide, don't coincide Brothers cry for broken lives, mama come inside Cause our block is filled with danger Used to be a close knit community but now we're all cold strangers Time changes us to stone them crack pipes All up and down the block exterminatin black life But I can't blame the dealers My mama's welfare check has brought the next man chrome wheels Shit's real, I know ya feel, my tragedy A single mother with a problem child, daddy free Hangin out pickin up game, sippin cheap liquor Gamin the hoochies hopin I can get to sleep with her It's a man's world, stayin strapped Fantasies of a nigga livin phat, but held back Pipe dreams can make the night seem hopeless Wide eyed and losin focus... on my block [Chorus w/ minor variations] [Verse Four] And block parties in tha projects lastin way past daylight A young nigga learned to break night Used to play fight with my homies but they stuck in the pen I send them ends, but it's tough on a friend, in my mind I see the same motherfuckers ballin Alcohol will make a lazy nigga slip and fall, miss his call I know the young niggaz understand this Growing up in this world where everything is scandalous I reminisce on tha fast times, past crimes Tryin to cop a slice of pizza with my last dime Can't explain, just what attracts me to this dirty game Gold chains, some extra change, and the street fame And what's strange is everybod knows my name, swear they all know me And lots of cash make a nigga change I hit the green just to maintain, feelin pain For all the niggaz that I lost to the game... from my block [Chorus w/ minor variations; kids repeat last line over and over] [2Pac - speaking over Chorus] Rest in peace to all the muh'fuckers who passed away From all the blocks that I'm from One-twelve street, 7th Avenue, New York, Uptown, knahmsayin 183rd and Walt, my block, that's right 122nd and Morningside, my block, that's right Decatur Avenue, Baltimore, my block, that's right In the jungle of Marin City, that's my block, that's right Los Angeles, haha, that's my block too Oakland, can't forget Oaktown, that's my block for sure And all the other blocks around this motherfucker Houston, Florida, St. Louis, Tennessee, Miami, Chicago All y'all niggaz stay kickin up dust Represent the motherfuckin block

Throw Your Hands In The Air

CYPRESS HILL "Cypress Hill III - Temples of Boom"
Intro: Sen Dog Yeah Bust how we gonna bounce off this ninety-five Soul Assassins Cypress Hill joint. Yo we want everybody out there to throw their hands up... ...so get it on kid! Verse One: Erick Sermon Fresh is the word, when I display my rappin forte Quicker done than O.J., hey I freaks my shit, E the lyrical master Stress me out, no doubt, I might have to blast ya Let me ask ya, can I gets busy one time And unwind and chill, with Cypress Hill Huh, I go on with my bad self I'm the four pound toter, the Phil blunt smoker Believe me not, I'm wicked like three sixes I'm doper than the Pete Rock remixes Never walk through the crowd sluggish I'm hardcore to the Bone, I'm Thuggish Ruggish The Green-Eyed, Bandit, I be ERRRICK SERRRMON I gets real determined And one for the trouble, and two for the bass I take it to your face with this here lyrical mace And if you don't know, y'all better recognize I'm coming through with speed, with pounds of weed Verse Two: B-Real Ahh shit, another one of those gangsta hits Niggaz wanna get busy with the ultimate Fools get real, yo I'm representin the Hill With chips and clips and tons of blue steel So who wants to be the first nigga to die Then try and test this, buddha blessed Gemini You get thrown sent home in a coffin Punk stuff don't make it back, very often I got Erick to take care of the Sermon Ashes to ashes, dust, bodies burnin Bustin open the doors to the temple Takin you to the dark side of your mental Chorus: B-Real Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Kickin it to the brothers on the corners, in the alleys Throw your hands in the air Chorus Verse Three: Redman I rhyme tricky, the sticky smoka with the mind itchy finger up on the pen, be like He the bomb, dicky! These off-keys MC's hawk me, they won't get off me So I kill em softly and use em as walkie talkies *bzzzzt* Turn up my level adjust my voice pitch Hoist this diagnosis, comatosis is what I leave your crew with, boom bip or some two and two shit Raw silk, cuz YOU DO IT TO MY MUSIC *Funk Doctor Spock* lock the hypest individual, to put criminal in diapers With my nigga E and Cypress, what I write bitch You swore, it was a nuclear war, crisis in your back yard, word to God, Def Squad! With my nigga Keith in the place takin charge Word up you'll get hurt up like the jury callin murder You're deaf cuz I freak shit you neva heard of Chorus Verse Four: MC Eiht Steppin to the park in the Hill you can't hang The original baby gangsta on this Compton thang Don't slip, the late night hype, is when I dip Boo-yaa is the sound from a lonely clip Can't feel me, if I was crack you'd try to steal me Heard you, and your little crew, wanna peel me Keep your hands on your hood, you get got The Green-Eyed Bandit, Cypress Hill, and the Funk Doctor Spock You wish you could hang, like I hang Dwells in the C-P-T, the hood thing G, the trigga finger, I'ma get you Hit you, the Tech 9, I'ma split you Ain't no poppin, no stoppin Tick to the tock, tick tock I hit your block Throw your hands in the air, don't bite this I squeeze, nigga please, the E down with Cypress Chorus Chorus Outro: Sen Dog Aight, for everybody All our peeps out on the corners All the alleyways For all our decesed Incarcerated peeps, brothers on the streets Nineteen ninety-five Soul Assassins in your mind

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