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Annakin's Prayer

Original and similar lyrics
Look at this bitch smilin in a nigga face I hate her I can drill a hole at the earths equator Fill it with dynamite and make another moon a craters See ya later She ain't know, that innocent shit with obi-wan behind the jedi back Can turn anakin to vader Shit your lack of faith in the force is disturbing And if it wasn't jack daniels and parliament lights it woulda been murder My eyes is red like ketchup Tired of playin catch up Laying on the floor starin at the dresser Got on my knees and prayed til they bleed Dear god, I'm a sick motherfucker I even fool myself, I'm a slick motherfucker I'm sick of the scandalous livin I don't think even I'm equipped for a higher standard of livin But if you give him one more chance and forgive him Hell push that negative gene into oblivion Heres what I'll do Put you in this basket And float you down to mississippi Twenty miles from the bayou Heres grace heres sty-le Have faith cause I'm a try you My mama introduced me to the scripture The channel four news introduced me to the shit that produced hitler I was a young lad, three stooges superman batman and riddler Moonwalk, windmill, freeze for the picture My grandma taught me courage She told me never let the grizzly bears eat your porridge Or you'll just be a carcuss dying slowly in the forest I could never thank her for it But I can slay a devil when I see one Steady practice mastery of self so not to be one Life is like a rerun Season after season Bums on the train bums (bombs) from the plane Of disgruntled citizen being trialed for treason... Whatever

Street Dreams

NAS "It Was Written"
Uhh, what, what, uhh.. [Chorus: Nas (set to Eurythmics 'Sweet Dreams')] Street dreams are made of these Niggaz push Beemers and 300 E's A drug dealer's destiny is reachin a key Everybody's lookin for somethin.. Street dreams are made of these Shorties on they knees, for niggaz with big G's Who am I to disagree Everybody's lookin for somethin.. [Nas] My man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square Headed for Delaware, with one change of gear Nothin on my mind but the dime sack we blazed with the glaze in my eye, that we find when we crave dollars and cents, a fugitive with two attempts Jakes had no trace of the face, now they drew a print Though I'm innocent, til proven guilty I'ma try to filthy, purchase a club and start up realty For real G, I'ma fullfill my dream If I conceal my scheme, then precisely I'll build my cream the first trip without the clique Sent the bitch with the quarter brick, this is it Fresh face, NY plates got a Crooked I for the Jakes I want it all, ArmorAll Benz and endless papes God sake, what nigga got to do to make a half million without the FBI catchin feelings [Chorus] [Nas] From fat cat to papi, niggaz see the cat Twenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back Holdin gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back Livin with moms, gettin it on, flushin crack down the toilet Two sips from bein alcoholic Nine hundred ninety nine thou from bein rich but now I'm all for it My man saw it like Dionne Warwick A wiser team, for a wiser dream we could all score with The cartel Argentina coke with the nina Up in the hotel, smokin on sessamina Trina got the fishscale between her The way the bitch shook her ass yo the dogs never seen her She got me back livin sweeter, fresh Caesar Guess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins Bitches blow me while hoppin in the drop-top BM Word is bond son, I had that bitch down on my shit like this [Chorus] [Nas] Growin up project-struck, lookin for luck dreamin Scopin the large niggaz beamin, check what I'm seein Cars, ghetto stars pushin ill Europeans G'n, heard about them old timers OD'n Young, early 80's, throwin rocks at the crazy lady Worshippin every word them rope rockin niggaz gave me The street raised me up, givin a fuck I thought Jordan's and a gold chain was livin it up I knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts everybody Cut out of class, just to smoke blunts and drink naughty Ain't that funny Gettin put on to crack money With all the gunplay, paintin the kettle black hungry A case of beers in the staircase I wasted years Some niggaz went for theirs, flippin coke as they career But I'm a rebel stressin, to pull out of the heat no doubt With Jeeps tinted out, spendin never holdin out [Chorus 2X]

Vital Nerve

Company Flow "Funcrusher Plus"
Intro/Chorus: Soon you'll see As I flow fluently to frequently, another MC will drop off the face of this Earth, for what it's worth I've been the nastiest, one since birth New York is number one today in the house! [El-P] I'll do the simple shit, strike harder than Hoffa El the maladjusted MC, Funcrusher Massive, a sign for my condition automatic Goldstar connect thoughts get jostled at your position Listen, abort mission without further discussion Dual personality, half me Doc Jekyll when I burn your paragraph down to a haiku So Tootsie Roll motherfuck back to your seat cause I don't like you I got a hundred beats, all nicer than your joint Karaoke MC's need not receive G's that's the whole point Be out within the crowd get open like herpes simplex sores on vexed pussy found that I put more crush, on crews than Jets You're just that simple plus overfronted -- but that's the status Cold caught my shit you better not sit, so stop the madness With hip-hop guidelines I state I never liked authority When sales control stats I place no faith in the majority Chorus Auto, matic, just for my people Auto, matic, just for my crew Auto, matic if you're wack then you'll get knocked out of the box and you'll deserve it too New York is number one today in the house! [El-P] I analyze, people call me El so son catch it MC's be disillusioned as hell, them can't hack it I'ma knock you out your tax bracket Slipped into the wrong hands, the mental barbarian Stay-Freshed in Ziplock, money plot hatcher How the fuck you gonna bring a Go-Cart to the Grand Prix hee hee laughter, enter for irreconcilable disaster I'ma protect mine like a Japanese fighting sticks master Aim, pierce your vital nerve, the bloody conquest Rappers they be like bro, I sunk your Battleship Ultra-magneto, burnin pee burns my credo Mad men cry like when you realize you got a shirt full of infrared dots plus I'm scopin at this bitch, be prepared for the mental headshots When the CoFlow leave the room, we takin mics bitches and boom (the incredible BMS...) [BMS] Now the mint and governor get paid, collectin off raids all the cash that was made from a brother, New York Undercover Don't love her, still I'm SuperHun Rhyme styles monstrosities, fools never stoppin me I swat MC's quite easily, Dunn Imitate styles most complain you can't begin to express Elevate off this, nine times to your brain makes your mind manifest, shit's hopeless Stop stop the nonsense, this could not accomplish Low pro interactive, go open carsnatchin CoFlow, by all means necessary packin rhymes is automatic Check the barrel circumfrence who done it, confirm it sewers done run it BMS just a killer plus serial But still ill and Sugarhill, to the fullest extent Tactic G represent, C-4 blowin up like the doors and this president (Dead, Presidents) Chorus Auto, matic, just for my people Auto, matic, just for my crew Auto, matic if you're wack then you'll get knocked out of the box and you'll deserve it too [El-P] I'm gettin fresh for my freeform All hold heart rocks down when I'm turnin veterans to greenhorn Beat it, make a bee-line, be lax or you'll be outed Spit words that's really cold, pinchin lymph nodes, El The inconvenience to your master plan fell, your shit's abyssmal Decimal point, zero for the judge burnin rhyme books Fuck basic, iambic pentameter just dissolves So I'll say fuck you suck your marrow like a chicken wing, from pluck you Location I'll rock like Zeke, calamity What's your composure, shoot sex like Vanity it's over Done it again brainstorm slice in your direction Cut the belly of your block open over to C-Section Death callin one, for the dysfunctional son Trapped in my digital domain ... (the El to the P) Yo fuck rappers that freak a fable, phony will make them fall out Frequencies painful run em as sonar, CoFlow's the callout You're misaligned, I turn benign breaks into malignant Knock em out the box, capture they flag and kick they can in Badlands, live one down the information highway Write a rhyme in braille, send a fuckin battle to your e-mail Yes once again empty MC's we have had here for those fortune enough to feel this, blessed number one ichiban numero uno crew -- track runner stun gunner plus vocal freak show performance Company Flow rockin shit from the intro to the outro Nevertheless I must digress for the master The walking FreshFest MC's pure when in soil yet shallow when the bank roll The independant representation of what MC's can and should be Judge prosecution defendant and jury New York... New York... New York... New York... New York is number one today in the house!

Show And Prove

Big Daddy Kane "Daddy's Home"
Verse One: Scoob Hah hah, hey hey, laugh now nigga My man's right behind you, Kane pull the trigger I don't play, I'm from the hill where shit is real And I'll be on your ass like bugs on a windshield So bring your grip or you can think twice Cause I got more rhymes than a five pound bag of rice I'm hitting hard, oh word, I'm gon rock it Once the shit drops, that's dough to the pocket I cut hand, you still can't get no cards You couldn't deal with Scoob if we was playin cards But if I got beef and it's time for code red My drill is like a hoe, and be takin mad niggaz to bed So hurry up and skedaddle Even if you join a army, you still couldn't battle So where you from England, you somebody great You burnin Scoob, I don't think so mate I got the style that gets you open like a bag of smoke I have your friends Ah-hah man, that shit ain't dope Leave me alone when I'm rocking on the microphone and play like E.T. and phone your black ass ho-wome Yo Sauce, if you're down with the groo-hoove Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove Verse Two: Sauce Hey, here I come with a slick rap, tic tac toe When I flip tracks, so gimme my dick, back I flow to it and through it, if you ever need to wonder how you got dope like Sauce, money you didn't do it I write my own with bigger hope, drink of Scope Wrote what I figured, nope, damn you dig a nigga doe Rhymes too drastic, bastard, pull hookers like elastic N-B-A style, fann-tastic No time to bite, but I just might, tonight I write left-handed cuz I like, to grab my dick with my right Who could ever say that I don't get plenty play Win Lose or Draw, I'm bookin whores, anyway As I get ready I'm steady if I go crazy I'd take Eddie if I was Fred, I think I'd have to bone Betty Suckin and luckin, hey, niggaz I'm duckin, nay Nada no never meaning ain't no motherfuckin way Rappers get gassed come on and get fast Try to get past when I blast, and you can HAND over your ass One line and that's fear Rappers get so damn pussy they gotta go for a pap smear So Shyheim, if your down with the groove Get on the mic it's time to show and prove Verse Three: Shyheim Yo, yo I spark the mic like weed that's in a cipher And I get girls open like a reggae song by Tiger So check me out, as I flip this here track kid And make mad noise like a Metallica record I'm psycho, a villain to the styles I be killin when I'm thrusted, and all competition gets dusted Cause I rock the world from U.S.A. to Asia to Russia If your shit stinks I'ma flush ya, then bust ya Like a crazy man from Cali son My jams be packed like a Farrakhan rally, what You know my style, I put the F in effin foul The Rugged Child locks you down like Rikers Isle And got more girls than a Trailerload with Shabba More Super than Cat, I'm the punani Don Dada So Big Daddy, if you're down with the groove my man Get on the mic and won't ya show and prove Verse Four: Big Daddy Kane Now tell me whoooo is the mannnn With the high-potent lyrics no rapper can ever stand And steppin to me, thinkin I can be touched Huh Not even Michael Jordan'll gamble that much, yo I get down on it and give it to rappers that even act like they want it I come for your title kid, run it! Or else get hit with the ultimate, too legit skit Ahh yeah, that's that shit Drop lyrics on ya, strong as ammonia That is I thrown ya, scold ya, Jones ya, I tried to warn ya You was wack since I known ya, fake as a cubic zirconia What did I just show ya, real lyrics doggone ya Look inside my rap book at every text my man and see that I got, more essays than the Mexican The Messiah that's feared great, leavin rappers in a weird state Scared straight, for their prepared fate Strong as an elephant, intelligent, compelling and elegant So well in it with every single element And competition gets none! Huh If I was wearing pantyhose you still couldn't give me no run I see the way you're trying to get to me, but with with speech impedi-ment, man you gotta come better G You're hitting all the wrong switches troop begin again Mumble mouth rappers couldn't last a minute with The non-resistable, non-competible No-No-I'm-Not-Sayin-I'm-The-Best, I'm just sayin I'm fuckin incredible! And let's just make one more thing understood That if I FART on a record, TRUST me nigga it'll sound good So Jay-Z, if you're down with the groove, my mellow Get on the mic it's time to show and prove Verse Five: Jay-Z Uh, one checkin it two, checkin it three Check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, check out the Z Hey G! I'm breaking MC's up like EPMD And these nuts if you rappers tryin ta see me I'm buckwild with styles, ta-dow I've been in it runnin a hundred miles I'm well endowed, baby gal Uhh, the greatest nigga to touch it, you niggaz can't fuck with The, incredible skills of the G from Brooklyn, big up kid And ain't no eatin me up, you fast fuckin with jigga I'm like Prince jeans, I bring the ass out a nigga When I rock it it's in the pocket, baby mop it don't knock it till you try it, once you start, you can't stop it I'm the cocky breed, I'm dope like poppy seed I live one rent from besides that be between get off my dick and stop jockin me When I bust a rhyme you're diggin the sound I know you lovin the way it's, goin down baby So Ason huh, if you're down with the groove, why don't ya Get on the mic and show and prove Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard Come on Wu-Tang killa bees on a swarm Rain on your college ass, disco dorm Slippery when wet and don't you ever forget You couldn't get a FLICK, of the hype outfit Because the way that I dress this style mad wild Enough to make a crowd of women scream OW! Whether at a party or just in bed All thoughts on Ason, keep that in your head Yuh, my beats are funky and my rhymes are spunky Sometimes I'll be like Well god damn what's the recipe I don't know, I ask my momma she don't know she says GO ASK YOUR GOD DAMNED FATHER! It's all about me in the place to be Niggas thing they all that, yo, that shit is G Mad game and it's a motherfucking shame How many enemies wanna claim the name Of Ason, who carries on like a manager YO!, SOUNDS FLY RIGHT DANGER!!!

Evil Streetz !

Intro: Method Man Spark that shit up and lets fly Oh my people Heyyy Ohhhh Ahhhh Hooooo Eiiii Heyyy Verse One: Sticky Fingaz I'm a hoodlum A dick in the dirt is what i'm holding Sporting mad Polo but only if its stolen I got no morals my mind is in the gutter KId I'll open up your face with my orange box cutter Soak you when you least expect it Before I met Russel I only had a jail record Plus nothing ever hurt me when I was at home These Evil Streets got a mind of their own My Pops left me for dead with just the clothes on my back I grew up selling crack And learning to drive a car jack I got street smarts and I use intuition I can spot an undercover with my x-ray vision And if anybody test me out there They gonna make me kill them and throw away my carear I'm my Mothers first born, Her last bad seed Verse Two: Fredro Star a.k.a. Never Its all about the next caper The cocaine, props and acres For the sake ah Snatchin the green paper Me and my crew roll in the zone of the twilight The news highlight When the next shit don't go right Its so tight its blazing A nigga squeezed hayz in got 'em geezing for a runner Then the plot thickens On point like Rod Strickland Clocks ticking Makes the hardest niggas clicks stop ticking Hitting they stash And murdering like and expert Cover ya tracks And conceal that dirty shit Chorus: Method Man This is for the gun slingers noise bringers this is for the crack slingers bell ringers this is for the bootleggers and everyday beggers And all my hood hustlers who know where we headin' repeat 2X Verse Three: Sonsee Its all about the $50,000 cars Dice games and ice chains We out of the average niggas price range Rings and Remy mixed with Henny Chicks with Fendi sucking disk in the Infinity This nigga had mad deco Fucking petro the nickel metro Blow All you heard was the gun echo On a dead nbight I get my head right Running red lights no headlights Pumping Buddah in a black Benz Pulling out Mac 10's Its just the smell of fucking cigarettes Broke niggas with assed out Took 2 puffs and passed out Woke him up with 21 shots of penicillin amped him up I guess thought it was hempacillin Yo chill kid lamp kid, chill kid you livin' Aye yo JB hit me one time Verse Four: Method Man Its the Blaze that be Johnny Not many shots can do that ass raunchy Lyric to the muzak we rolling Watch out for the niggas that be holding Raunchy fucking up your colon Of course its Tical Verbal assault We can walk these dogs through all 5 boroughs of New York Some talk While other individuals walk In my square tryin' to hide thoughts Spreading lies in my ears Got me questioning my peers That be show and prove they don't belong here I be the Chef in Hells Kitchen Pop in the clip and hit the DJ if the records skipping My competition gotta keep me at arms distance I know myself onion head niggas don't listen I shoot the what Got no time for that wiz bitchin' I'm about to blow in 5 seconds The clocks ticking consider this another mission impossible as he gets hostile Uncut blowing up your nostril We There Come on take another if you dare The reason why its so raw cause its real I swear by the hairs on my Chin Chiggy Chin To the day I die I represent the Grimy niggas The ones who can't afford Tommy Hillfigger The down and dirty Johnny fill Niggas Yeah Chorus 2X

Hit Factory Freestyle

LL COOL J "10"
(feat. DJ Enuff, DJ Kay Slay) [DJ Enuff] Ayo, this the heavy hitter DJ Enuff, Def Jam's own Aight, who dat there [DJ Kay Slay] Ayo it's DJ Kay Slay from around they way Street sweepers baby you know how it's goin down [Enuff] Yo son what's poppin [Kay Slay] Ayo man the streets man, is craving for some of that LL thing Youknowwhatimsayin Ill Bomb was it man But I know y'all got more in store man [Enuff] Yo son we here live at the Hit Fiddactory, New York City We got the brand new flavors from LL Cool J Ayo Bimmy! Pass that heat son, let's get this shit crackin [LL Cool J] Ayo this is the infinite, intelligent, extravagant and eloquent That shit y'all talkin is irrelevant I put it down from the gutter to the tenement It's LL Cool J nigga, everything I do is excellent And I got to represent, Q-Boro, the thorough Y'knawmean We get down, we get down baby Check this shit out right here, uh E Pluribus Unum is the album I'ma drop It'll make you bitch niggas as hard as rocks Givin head to the glock, pretend it's hard cock Splashin niggas I came slow through the block I'm, the original, visual, individual Ten times platinum your career's lookin critical Reach for this, motherfuck being a criminal Look in your bitch eyes, the vibe is subliminal You wanna freestyle fuck that I need at least seven figures to even touch that But since everybody was underestimatin my format I dropped Ill Bomb and now niggas want more of that Aint a rapper dead or alive fuckin wit me Ask the last bitch that tried to come and get me Talk about paper, I can talk about broads I can talk about movies, I can talk about awards Fuck the fantasies, yo I got all four And 2001'll be mine, by law Why name me Greatest Of All Times Because for fifteen years I kept y'all standin in line Lovin the way I shine and my lyrics combine With the ruggedest, illest beats that Def Jam can find Fuck them other niggas with their 9 or 10 hits My hits run deep as the emotions of your bitch Back in the days it was the M fast stick But now the Bentley is all get more whores on the dick This ones for [distorted] and my Riker's Island niggas That remember when I came through The big O B C C H D M 2 C 74 Little Nasi and the crew, y'all niggas come home Word up, the new album gon' be the shit baby Aint no doubt about it, E Pluribus Unum Out of many one, The G.O.A.T., Greatest Of All Time... [DJ Kay Slay] Ahh yeah, brand new flavor by LL Cool J Featuring LeShaun, it's called Imagine That I'm in the house with my man, DJ Enuff Yo Bimmy, this is how it's going down Come on Enuff, uh, come on Enuff, one more time [LL Cool J] DJ Enuff, DJ Enuff, DJ Enuff You're the honey that I see when I'm ridin by The one givin me a feeling that I can't deny You got the Prada boots on, suede hittin your thigh Actin like my chrome twenties aint catchin' your eye Sometimes I slow down, catch the ass in the mirror Turn the fog lights on, to see the legs more clearer You turn me on, keep me standin up I wish that I could prove to you that I'm man enough I come up to your job and handcuff your boss Throw that nigga in the closet and turn the lights off Then sit you up on the copy machine Make copies of your kitten with my chin in between Then I take you to the window so the world can see Baby I'm down on my knees, let your world be free Curl tongue come get up on this desk with me Multiple orgasms is your destiny [LL and LeShaun] Yo, I'ma hit you in the backseat and tell you to slide Imagine That It aint my fault that my broads collide Imagine That Knock your girls off two at a time Imagine That Disrespect you and still make you mine [Kay Slay] Ahh man I like the way this shit is going down DJ Enuff rippin it up on the ones and twos [record scratching] Hit me up with some more of that flavor [LL] Ayo Bimmy, it's a rock the, ayo Bimmy, it's, ayo Bimmy, it's a rock the Ayo Bimmy, ayo Bimmy, ayo Bimmy, it's a Rock the Bells, Def Jam Collabo man, knowhatimsayin Bim, me, uhh, yeah, me, (goddam!) me, yeah, feel this baby, (keep it going) I'm (Incredible) (what nigga) outrageous Turn money like encyclopedia pages Get freaky throw dike bitches in cages Paid in full European shit, fuck Avis Rocks in ears, blingin the atmosphere Fuck Canibus, I bodied him last year But the L still here, watch face, crystal clear Love a chick to give me head while I shampoo her hair Head to the back baby, no more tears You mumblin the shit, dupe, my flow more clear Baby listen here, I been gettin paper for years And program diretcors who fronted they disappeared And grimy ass niggas get laced with car bombs For being overcritical with uncle get it on I burn your magazine, god'll intervene Can't front on this hip hop phenomenon from Queens, uh [DJ Enuff] As we keep it movin, brand new flavor We call this one Hello, featuring Amil Aight, big up the whole Roc-A-Fella crew Def Jam 2000 baby, The G.O.A.T., August 22nd Go cop that in the stores Big up to all the ladies, aight, c'mon [LL and Amil 6X] Hello, hello Yo, yo [woman's voice] Honey on the telephone [LL] You're the, 212 or 718 Or 914 I love it hardcore When it's over the phone, it's safe to do it raw Imagine every world we could both explore [Amil] Hello Baby what you wearin right now [Amil] Hot pants My girl aint around let's get down And I hope the phone's tapped let's pretend you on my lap [Amil] I'm bouncin up and down with my shoulders back Nigga you like that You see you runnin up my bill Mama might hear me but you just too ill I get your flicks lined up, stereo low Cherry flavored grease beneath my elbow If I was there what would you do [Amil] I'd lay you on your back Ride or Die daddy and I love it like that [Enuff] Ahh man, just a little bit of flavor Kay, just a little bit of flavor Aight, LL Cool J baby August 22nd [LL] Mirror, mirror, on the wall Who was the man before 'Pac and Biggie Smalls No disrespect, but y'all know how I ball The L L C O O L J, what's my motherfucking name y'all Mirror, mirror, on the wall Who was the man before Master P and Puff y'all No disrespect, but y'all know what he's called The L L C O O L J, spell that shit Frankly black, I'm on you niggas minds like Yankee hats Paparazzi flash, that nigga L up in the back Three quarter mink, platinum armor, flashin major stacks I step up, you step back Crucify ya, execution other men The lips, the voice, the way the whole shit blend My rain won't end, my crown don't bend From the mind, to the arm, to the hand, to the pen To the page, to the stage, career wise, half my age Walkin in hell's kitchen and fell on the god's blade New millenium revoltuion, my niggas aint afraid Fuck these record labels til the legend's gettin paid The war zone, I'ma pierce to your bone I got a tank on the fanwith nigga, I'm comin home If you want it, come and get it, bring it to the death If you could match a third of my success you blessed [Enuff] That's right y'all, LL Cool J, The G.O.A.T. The Greatest Of All Time, August 22nd, go cop that Don't fuck with the bootleggers, aight I wanna big up my man DJ Kay Slay, for holdin it down wit me Aight, and before we shut it down, aight I wanna bring my man out, the A&R behind this, aight The A&R executive, yo Bimmy, yo Bimmy come out here son [Bimmy] Thank you, God bless you, good night...

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