JAY ELECTRONICA lyrics

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Yeah, this is another Sol Messiah production You are now tuned in to the sounds of Jay Electronica Man this is some beautiful weather we having this year right This is grown folk music right here It ain't been this cool in a couple of summers It's Friday night, in the club and I'm feelin' a vibe I'm sharp as a tack I'm black and I'm feelin' alive Senoritas on the floor three-quarters naked The deejay was bangin' that "We gon' make it" Ok, I can deal with this All the ladies starting screamin' "Where my real niggas" I seen Dave by the bar gettin' gin in a cup I said "Dave, where's Bum[?]" "Man he still in the truck" Stink pink gators My Detroit players Chillin' in the circle Errol Flynnin' it up Yup, now it's off to V-I-P The waitresses be grinnin' when they see Ali Two dimes walked up "Can we sit with 'ya'll" I said "I don't know ma, lemme see I-D" Cause the truth is she really wanna take me to the telly Put my dick in her belly Then play me like R.Kelly But I can't go for that I'm on a mission I can't put myself in that compromising position So um, we can chill relax for a minute Maybe a pat on the back or some dap when I'm finished Now, I right back to the two-step Two in the morning and I ain't even loose yet (I ain't even loose yet... haha) Hey deejay play my song Rock that shit all night long This party won't stop This party won't quit This party's on hit nigga We came to rock we came to step We came to shut this bitch down Keep talking that shit Keep poppin' that shit Get knocked the fuck out We can get it crackin' any minute right now man I'm ready for war On the dancefloor two-steppin' like Sigma Beta With them down south head 'bussas knocking out a hater I mastered the dark side of the force like Darth Vader Now, lean back like Fat Joey Crack Jay Elect got the flow to make your booty go clap I'm a Third Ward soldier I told you playa' See the U-P-T and the clothes I we-ar Out in that lower ninth ward the walk with a bop Never caught without a glock or a sock full of rocks Shoutout to Big Reem on this twenty-four-seven hustle to stack the green Man, niggas got plans and dreams Cash rules everything around me, cream Get the money Haters wanna see me stay bummy But you can't change my cards or take nothing from me Police comin' (what) Fireman comin' (what) Niggas wilin' out in the club we stay dumbin' Niggas stylin' out in the club now say somethin' Man, I'm ready to wile out The game just started I'm ready to foul out 'Ya'll better hope we gracefully bow out But we don't want no trouble tonight man...

Higher

TWISTA "Runnin' Off At Da Mouth"
[Intro: Twista + (Ludacris)] Yeah, you know it's about to go down right? (Yeeah!) Got to let them know who is this? (Ludacris!) And who else nigga? (Twista, wooo, ahhh!) Uh, uh (check it out) [Verse 1: Ludacris] Sometimes I think that I got to see a little bit of brighter days Cause I confine myself to a city near you in a solid cage And you could look to the left or the right but I'm trapped on center stage And I could rap to the beat, but I don't know how to change my ways I still hear a fool and I track them, distract them, and whack them Jack a nigga for the day to days and I yak them, attack them, and sack them Get a weapon and I crack his brain cause I'm a hustler, baller, pro And it wouldn't be right for me to be around busters, and crawlers, and hoes But I'm a pimp at night, so talk shit and I'm a lift them up off of they toes With a street sweeper regulating quarters, and ki's, and o's In a two-seater, Ludacris and Twista with bags of dro Smoking, choking, get them open, croaking It's so potent - I'm hoping to keep on floating Soaking wet and you can bet, people I'm high I'm seeing lions, and tigers and bears - oh my! And I can't hide it or keep it hidden, good riddance I'm felling good I'm weapon-concealing, stealing my neighborhood Would, could, and should break a nigga off They'll see you later, go to the doctor, hold my balls and (cough) You caused some vapors and I caught the throne, brain blown, honey I'm home Give me the microphone, and fools is like, 'leave me alone!' [Chorus: Twista] Throw it up if you get high, get blow, get drunk If you want what I'm on, come on and kick it Let's ride, smoke dro, beat the trunk All the bad ass bitches that want to party Just shake it, great players get pumped Me and my thugs, and hustlers in the party Get money fuck hoes, get crunk [Verse 2: Twista] (Look out!) I put a little bit of hash on some motherfucking purple haze I feel it all over my body, adrenaline with the Bacardi Got me up and then rippng shit in a rage In the netti cofetti with a belly, Gucci Timberland stepping on the petal up in the Cadillac truck Want to get me for the wood Better get the whole motherfucking hood to come and give you some back up We can get into it and if you want to do it I'm leaking the fluids out of the bodies that want to come at this If they all get some blood for fucking with thugs that I bury My adversaries better not want none of Twis' Represent for my city, anybody that different with me Got to get him for thinking it's a game And whether you from my city or not, talk shit I'ma kill him especially if he say my name I've been up on him - I handle my business And I'm a stick him up for the scrilla, from K-Tilla, smoking on a fat piller Murder haters that don't feel a Niggaz claiming they want to bring it, but really don't be killers Balling out so hard the size of my rims grow to a hellafied sight-scene When the dough become no bigger, I'm going to drop that 2003 on 19' [Chorus: Twista] [Verse 3: Twista] We balling out of control, I floss on, play on, pimp on A speed deamon, pedal to the metal when I'm in the zone Hang on cause here I'm gone In the motherfucking wind when I'm sippin on Henn' I got paper, you owe something And I done came a long way from letting me hold something, to roll something Find a body, then fill him up with some adrenaline And then kill him and send him to the cemetery With a flow for the whole world like a poet, Check icy cold, your Pop's so hungry, he mends a berry Shit, and when it come to shipping good Who that?, who that?, I got the sack open And the herb got the flow so strong Hot them on crack, the track is for back-to-back smoking Never come up with it unwise, and he nigga you ain't untouchable when I spark the heat Coming at you like sharks to meat the blood is softly, I can tell when a mark is hard as we Come fully loaded cause I'm hard to beat always screaming where a beat and the dro at? You know we love that cut up In the back of the club with purple in the back crying Twis' and Ludacris get fucked up [Chorus: Twista] [Outro: Twista + (Wildstyle)] Pass me the.. Let me smoke my.. (Yeeah, this a Wildstyle production Twista and Ludacris collabo, get it, get it get it, uh, yeeah)

Won On Won

Cocoa Brovaz "The Rude Awakening"
Smoky Lah, me got flav Smoky Gunz, Cocoa B's Who wanna look like, wanna act like us Wanna be like, roll the trees like us Wanna talk like wanna walk like us Wanna flip like get ripped like us Wanna act like know you're black like us Wanna flip like kick shit like us Wanna bust like you ain't rough like us Tek and Steele, Won on Won, Smoky Guns, what? DING! That's the sound of the bell Oh shit! is all you heard before you fell to the canvas, all washed up like my dirty drawers and pants get, try to challenge get damaged Plain and simple, with bandages around your temple Easily erased out the picture like pencil Peeped me once, saw me again got your pistol I put permanent fear in your heart like a dimple Son hold my A.V. let me rock this no-body Comin out the closet tryin to stop my money? Actin like you're sweet cause he ain't see me in the streets Spit that blood out and get back up on your feet You called me I was there on some Candyman shit Wear that ass out in front your kids and your bitch Hurt you to the boards, put the ten to your jaw Walk away, parley in front of Achmed's store We don't give a WHAT about you, tell them niggaz who sent you Let em come, have em all open wide like dentals Heard they work for cheap, think I might rent you If you feel I disrespected you, good, I meant to Nigga I'd wish you'd, talk about runnin for guns Get your Bankhead Bounce like insufficient funds Left ass-out a home beggin like bums Cut off, swept off the floor like crumbs I'm from N.Y.C.I.T.Y. stay high Lazy eye ghetto celeb rap guy from Bed-Stuy Splash in two lines, me no long rhymes losing your attention taking up your time I gets mine and breathe, bout it bout it like P Too many wannabe me, wanna flow blow hold dough like Smoky (Smoky Lah), fly across seas blow shows for B.C.C. (knock you out), but you can't be You heard me, you soft like porridge You ain't gettin money and you have no courage (Aiyyo son, let me at they ass son) Introducing, the one who gets you bugged like a lucie Same height, same weight, same fight skills like Bruce Lee Try me, ready for those who wanna harm me Don't toy with me, you wanna be all you can be, join the Army I swarm like bees plus sting too, bring grooves I blow em out like hankies (hachoo!) nab you like cops do For the longest I've been waitin, to take it to these Jafaicans Corner eyeballin on the moves that we was makin Thinkin that we lost it cause our line was closed Can't stop a hungry nigga with nuttin to live foe I'ma see that dough, many hustlers I know Three car longshark white chalk and celo Yo, I think I'll take this time to remind you not to sit by the line, test mine, CrimeStoppers won't find you Before we come kickin your door to the floor Throw you to the wall, making you our prisoner of war Cut you too short to take walks with Tattoo Attack you from your front open you back with my scalpel Snatch two, niggaz from the crew if they got anything to do with motherfuckers coming back to avenge you I intend to, get down for my temple Keep a strong mental when dealin with evils that men do Them who, fail to comprehend I Recommend you remember you're dealin with men who'll send you - - off in a coffin Cause far too often niggaz are gettin lost and it's costin body parts, from anybody that starts We play the hackers, takin rappers apart Dissect em, from they rectum, to they necks double check them make sure shit's correct then direct them To the section, where the session's, in progression Where you come to get blessed by Smif-N-Wessun (various talk to outro)

I Like To Party

SALT 'N' PEPA "Blacks' Magic"
Let's kick it like this, ah yeah We gotta kick it like this, ah yeah We need to kick it like this, ah yeah We gonna kick it like this, ah yeah (And let me tell ya, girl, I'm a party animal, see Word, and I need a man that can hang with this thing You know what I'm sayin' Oooo, child, I know what you're sayin' Hey ladies! I said homegirls! We've been goin' for the dog-doo It's gettin' to be a real drag around here, you know what I'm sayin' A woman can't do nothin' no more, man We've got to let the fellas know what they can do for us) As the smoke clears you can hear And the ringing in your ears just disappears Your body's soft, but you still want more You might end up as a casualty on the dance floor I'm an addict, strung out on dopeness But you can't chew, sniff, or smoke this If you wanna get high step by the speaker And overdose on somethin' sweeter Do you suffer from migranes or other pains That's caused by stress and strain Brother, refrain You came to the right place to get your head straight The cure's for sure, the beat's the bait I won't wait for the crowd to get loud or rowdy I enjoy my life cuz I like to party [CHORUS] I like to party, night and day I like to party in every way I like to party, I can't stop I like to party till I drop [Repeat] We're steppin' on the case, watch your face Don't like the pace then leave the place It's Ladies Night, yeah, and we hype Heels, shirt, tights, and a mic Like three the hard way we're doin' it our way Rollin' and gettin' funky like Kid 'N Play See her over there behind the phonograph She's a psychopath, I make the breaks last A Salt and Pepa parade this is So march on the dance floor with his Arms wrapped real tight around your body And you'll understand why [CHORUS] (Make it funky, Pep) Oh, I feel hot then again why not This ain't pop, it's hip-hop And got a lot to rock to, dip and dop to You don't have to, but you probably want to It makes you laugh because it's really fun to Twist your tongue and exercise your lungs to Tonight on the mic we're showing We're strong enough for a man, but made for a woman Hey you! Where do you think you're goin' Yo, Stan, my man, keep the horns blowin' Havin' a good time ain't no crime When the joint is jumpin' and people are dancin' Everyone does it, now it's no sin Yo, I just did it, and I'm ready to do it again and again and again [CHORUS] (Wait a minute... Now I think it's time we give the drummer Some of this funky groove we got here You ain't got to throw no solo in, brother Just keep what ya got Yo, turn it loose cuz it's a mutha Now when I count to four I want y'all to chill And let the drummer get ill And when I count to four I want y'all to come back in once more It's in my feet, feels so sweet) Said it's in my feet, feels so sweet It's in my shake, oooo, but it work me to death Said it's in my shake, but it work me to death I want the floor, I wanna rock the floor C'mon, y'all - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - hit it! [drum solo] (Ain't it good to ya Uh, ain't it good to ya)

Coming 2 America

LUDACRIS "Word Of Mouf"
The royal penis is clean your highness Thank you, king shit Yeah motherfuckers! Welcome to the United States of America. Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses. Hailin from the filthy, dirty South, where the Kings lay. Ludacris; Disturbin' Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty when you hear it. The throne has been taken, so kiss this nigga's earring. Luda throw some grapes on these bitches! [Ludacris] These bitches throwin rose petals at my feet mayn! They wanna spoil me, treatin me like royalty; what I'm 'sposed to do It's such a sweet thang Work that track, whip 'em like Kunta That's why they stay down, they loyal citizens of Zamunda By way of A-T-L; if you disagree don't even look at me ho don't pass go just go straight to jail With no probation or bail, but this ain't Monopoly It's Jolly Green Giants cause we smoke so much broccoli Uh-oh, Spaghetti-O's! Luda's oodles of noodles And testin me is like pitbulls put up to poodles My rap career goes back further than yo' father hairline It's Ludacris - I pack more nuts than Delta Airlines I'm fly, even when I get high I work cash And even got my coats bumped up to first class I'm boss to all employees - and I'm here to teach the principle Cause I've been saved by mo' bells than Lark Vorhees Man fuck that nigga 'Cris man, for real man. I'm tired of this shit man. Man I try to rap for the nigga, I try to get a nigga tracks; he ain't hearin my shit. Man for real. Man my four-year-old son can rap better than that nigga; man that nigga garbage. Man I got talent too, the nigga ain't hearin me. Man iii-iiiis this shit on 'Cris, c'mon 'Cris. 'Cris, f'real man. FUCK YOU NIGGA, MAN FUCK YOU! [Ludacris] Fuck you too! What you wanna do, scrawny nigga But I got a arsenal of automatics down to twenty-twos Know how to use 'em, fight dirty as SHIT I throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a CLIQUE You see y'all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos And comin up shorter than five Danny DeVitos I'm on a cool ranch, get laid more than Fritos With five strippers, four wives and three amigos I go scuba divin in Bays at Montego I find gold links and snatch 'em like I'm Deebo But I'm the light-skinteted version of Mandingo I've seen more Beatles and Jagged Edges than Ringo I used to run numbers in line they caled me BINGO Cause I'm big, you a little star, you just twinkle Old asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled And I stay with more BULLETS than yo' Billboard singles Ho that is just too much! You just gotta give applause he is definitely all f'real - yaseeI'msayin Ha ha I be fuckin with him all the time, yahhmean I'm sayin, I used to just () now home come through he want filters a purple, he want quarters a purple now. I want y'all to trip with it man, I woulda sold him a Coupe () we coulda played with, yaseewhatI'msayin [Ludacris] Yeah, can I get a little hit of that, little nigga with a bigga sack See piece of the bigger trap look at that God be rollin on that Where they kick it at And a lot of people just don't know Shady Park you heard just don't go Quick to flip the bird up po'-po' Makin the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show! Gotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people I gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll - oh no where the beat go Bring that, shit back, didn't wanna hear that, clik-clak Tons of fun with guns Fuck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that Who knows, who goes there Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear Stop and stare; pourin out a lil' gasoline and then drop a flare Come on, FIRE! And you know I can't stop 'til I re-TIRE! Oh no, we stay swoll, rollin on Vogue TIRES! Right down the avenue, passin you rapidly stackin In the back of the Cadillac and packin emergency action Camera, LIGHT LIGHTS, throwin a punch and then FIGHT FIGHT Packin a lunch and then BITE BITE, A-T-L stay TIGHT TIGHT I'm just tryin to save ya shorty. I'ma let you know it's real down heah. When you ride down that two-eighty-five, and you go past Kincaid, get ready to go past that Cambleton Road fo' you get it cut free shorty just shave; cause dat where dem real niggaz at. I ain't lyin when you in Decatur and you flossin down Clintwood, Cambleton Road or () Boulder to shave! Cause dat where dem real niggaz at. When you're goin down that ol' Nat Hill and you pass dat second waffle house 'fore you get to the rich niggaz daaang, cause dat where dem real niggaz at! Matter of fact, just shave when ya get to Georgia nigga.

Welcome To America

NELLY
The royal penis is clean your highness Thank you, king shit Yeah motherfuckers! Welcome to the United States of America. Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses. Hailin from the filthy, dirty South, where the Kings lay. Ludacris; Disturbin' Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty when you hear it. The throne has been taken, so kiss this nigga's earring. Luda throw some grapes on these bitches! [Ludacris] These bitches throwin rose petals at my feet mayn! They wanna spoil me, treatin me like royalty; what I'm 'sposed to do? It's such a sweet thang Work that track, whip 'em like Kunta That's why they stay down, they loyal citizens of Zamunda By way of A-T-L; if you disagree don't even look at me ho don't pass go just go straight to jail With no probation or bail, but this ain't Monopoly It's Jolly Green Giants cause we smoke so much broccoli Uh-oh, Spaghetti-O's! Luda's oodles of noodles And testin me is like pitbulls put up to poodles My rap career goes back further than yo' father hairline It's Ludacris - I pack more nuts than Delta Airlines I'm fly, even when I get high I work cash And even got my coats bumped up to first class I'm boss to all employees - and I'm here to teach the principle Cause I've been saved by mo' bells than Lark Vorhees Man fuck that nigga 'Cris man, for real man. I'm tired of this shit man. Man I try to rap for the nigga, I try to get a nigga tracks; he ain't hearin my shit. Man for real. Man my four-year-old son can rap better than that nigga; man that nigga garbage. Man I got talent too, the nigga ain't hearin me. Man iii-iiiis this shit on? 'Cris, c'mon 'Cris. 'Cris, f'real man. FUCK YOU NIGGA, MAN FUCK YOU! [Ludacris] Fuck you too! What you wanna do, scrawny nigga But I got a arsenal of automatics down to twenty-twos Know how to use 'em, fight dirty as SHIT I throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a CLIQUE You see y'all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos And comin up shorter than five Danny DeVitos I'm on a cool ranch, get laid more than Fritos With five strippers, four wives and three amigos I go scuba divin in Bays at Montego I find gold links and snatch 'em like I'm Deebo But I'm the light-skinteted version of Mandingo I've seen more Beatles and Jagged Edges than Ringo I used to run numbers in line they caled me BINGO Cause I'm big, you a little star, you just twinkle Old asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled And I stay with more BULLETS than yo' Billboard singles Ho that is just too much! You just gotta give applause he is definitely all f'real - yaseeI'msayin? Ha ha I be fuckin with him all the time, yahhmean? I'm sayin, I used to just (?) now home come through he want filters a purple, he want quarters a purple now. I want y'all to trip with it man, I woulda sold him a Coupe (?) we coulda played with, yaseewhatI'msayin? [Ludacris] Yeah, can I get a little hit of that, little nigga with a bigga sack See piece of the bigger trap look at that God be rollin on that Where they kick it at? And a lot of people just don't know Shady Park you heard just don't go Quick to flip the bird up po'-po' Makin the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show! Gotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people I gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll - oh no where the beat go? Bring that, shit back, didn't wanna hear that, clik-clak Tons of fun with guns Fuck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that Who knows, who goes there? Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear Stop and stare; pourin out a lil' gasoline and then drop a flare Come on, FIRE! And you know I can't stop 'til I re-TIRE! Oh no, we stay swoll, rollin on Vogue TIRES! Right down the avenue, passin you rapidly stackin In the back of the Cadillac and packin emergency action Camera, LIGHT LIGHTS, throwin a punch and then FIGHT FIGHT Packin a lunch and then BITE BITE, A-T-L stay TIGHT TIGHT I'm just tryin to save ya shorty. I'ma let you know it's real down heah. When you ride down that two-eighty-five, and you go past Kincaid, get ready to go past that Cambleton Road fo' you get it cut free shorty just shave; cause dat where dem real niggaz at. I ain't lyin when you in Decatur and you flossin down Clintwood, Cambleton Road or (?) Boulder to shave! Cause dat where dem real niggaz at. When you're goin down that ol' Nat Hill and you pass dat second waffle house 'fore you get to the rich niggaz daaang, cause dat where dem real niggaz at! Matter of fact, just shave when ya get to Georgia nigga.

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