JAY ELECTRONICA lyrics - The Jay Electronica Project

Be Easy

Original and similar lyrics
Be easy, you ain't really ready for war With a bunch a live wire niggas ready for war So be easy you ain't really ready for war With a bunch of live wire niggas ready for war When the drama get to poppin well be at your door We can take it to a world you never seen before Talk slick get your ass whipped down to the floor Be easy my nigga be easy... Off top I bring the hot hot shit That toxic You know how I spit That revolutionary pac shit Some times I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick Sometimes I tell a hater to get off my dick My flow is mega sick Ya flow is delicate Big cars big guns the bling the rhetoric Call me jay boogie Microphone under my hoodie You cornball rappers could'ntdo nothing to me Ultramagnetic flowetic rhyme poetic grind daily Divine mind kinetic I shine blind with the light of the macmilli Seventy six trillion years I'm still here, honey you motherfuckers could'ntmatch me From new york to cakalacky, california to tallahasee, I terrorize a wack MC I be wilin on you I be stylin on you I'm wagin war with the devil The asiatic rebel is back swing Pawn to e-6 move swift but cunning Keep my knights on flank and my bishops gunning My BL queen she hold me down lovely The gravitational pulls too strong for you to budge me It's a lyrical miracle Pound for pound syllable for syllable I'm the unfuckwitable Eighty percent of my life I was subject to ridicule But it was the fuel that helped me to reach the pinnacle The flows like snowman I'm abominable This war has scarred me but the damage was minimal Paid dues Slaid crews Did my sheriff dirt but never made news The god stay smooth Made moves like Kasparov My sins like snake skins homie I cast em off Meet the elite throne crusher, the god fearin zone rusher Perform under pressure, Nobodys fresher The soul stepper Most of you lames never heard of me, I'm the third ward born phenomenon don won sportin the burberry Dippin in the flashiest car, In the mic booth spittin the ras wa The blase blah Blase splee You might find me in the D Gettin grimey with the D-A-M- to the E Mr porter in the lak Black pearl in the back Run your nab pack the loud gats that say sprrrraaat Where yo mans at now pa? He ain't around and he never show his face when it's time for style war I'm gettin busy with the one two stick em Let the rhythm hit em Sound like a prism nigga who is em Jay electronica lord of the rings Baptising ya'll with fire water slaughterin kings From seven mile to magnolia we crack soldiers Somebody shoulda told ya The rap game is ova

Ain't That Some Shit (Interlude)

J. COLE "Born Sinner"
OK I lied. [Verse 1:] Motherfucker try Say I can't come to the hood, true lie See I would but I'm out in Dubai When I get back I'm a roll through that Snatch yo bitch give yo niggas dap The hood gone ballistic, Cole was here and you missed it That nigga walk like Obama man Shake yo momma's hand and kissed it This pimp shit, pimp shit Cole hard, you limp dick My flow hard no wimp shit Put in that work no temp shit Yo bitch wearin' that lipstick Gave this dick a french kiss That nigga so wack when the bitch came back Kissed her hoping that it get him sick, ha Ain't that some shit Well paid for this rap and shit Ville made it to the map and shit Niggas move cane like Kappa shit Ain't that some shit For no Benz and Range and my mattresses For fuckin' these bad little actresses I'm bad as shit [Bridge:] I got that work Say what? My flow Say what? My bitches Say what? You Cole Say what? I said [Hook: x3] Say what? Ain't that some shit Well paid for this rap and shit Ain't that some shit bitch Bitch Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce Bounce (bounce) [x4] [Verse 2:] Flow, flow, flow, flow Flow tight put a nigga in a headlock Fuck hoes out of wedlock Nigga bed rock Red hot, so they got red dots Pullin' that trigger nigga better be a head shot Money long like dread locks shit If you send shots then you bet not miss For a couple G's, send a couple G's Fuck copping pleas, Matlock shit (testify) I gotta testify Came through humble so it's best if I Explain the noise shit, rockin' jewels shit Got the full clip, cock and pull Stop the bullshit watch the flow How you gon' stop the unstoppable Keep bitches on they toes no Dr. Scholls It's the Roc bitch, rock and roll [Bridge:] I got that work Say what? My flow Say what? My bitches Say what? You Cole Say what? I said [Hook: x3] Say what? Ain't that some shit Well paid for this rap and shit Ain't that some shit bitch Bitch Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce Bounce (bounce) [x4] My nigga Syience killed this beat

Problems

J. COLE
[Verse 1] Yea, yea, yea, Dear Mrs. Bill Collector I know ya just doing your job, don’t mean to disrespect ya But we’ve been going through this thang since way back I told ya when I get the dough I would pay back But I got problems babayy…yea, if you only knew I got bigger problems babbayyy So why ya talkin about the money that I owe, like as if I didn’t know man, it don’t mean nothing to me Cause right now I got my lil boy crying, and my grandmother dying, could you please stop fuckin with me? Listen here, I aint lookin for no tears, but my brother got a year, and my momma keep smoking that shit On top of that, I’m broke, please put that in your notes for the next one to call me up talking that shit [Verse 2] Hey, Dear Mr. Policeman Hey am I wrong, aint you suppose to keep the peace man? I coulda swore I was driving pretty peaceful So why the hell is you pullin over me fo’? Is it this black Mercedez? (Oh now I get it, I get it, I get it) Or cause I’m black? Hmmm, maybe Hey, tell me why my hands start sweatin and I hold my breath everytime that you get behind me I turn my music down, so you won’t hear a sound, man I’m nervous like I got a couple pounds on me You pulled me over, you frown on me With your flashlight, tell me what do you see Thug niggas, drug dealers, its a trip, every nigga in this whip got a mothafuckin college degree [Verse 3] Yea, my middle finger to the law, bustin off, tryna touch the sky My teacher said, “Impossible”, but I’mma fuckin try Plus how he gon’ tell me, he dont make the rules There’s niggas dying everyday, but we don’t make the news Instead they talkin bout some thunderstorm, cyclones Timmy got his bike stole, top story, Tiger Woods “be fuckin all these white hoes” Anchorman stop snitchin Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches, hey my goodness How ironic, on trial for possession of some chronic My lawyer came to court, man he was higher than the comet Hey your honor, is you kidding? How you sit above me? Are you perfect mothafucker, how you finna judge me? When you home you dont cuss, drink and puff like us These cops is bad boys, baby just like Puff They hate they jobs and they days be fucked up like us At the end of the day, you niggas just like us

Killuminati

JOEY BADA$$ "1999"
[Verse 1: Joey Bada$$] I'm a beast with these flows 2 birds one stone, you get geese when trees roll They say I'm evil cause I trained my eagle to see gold See, no seagulls couldn't see these goals Please, it's the return of the beast coast No cash, flash put the cheese still make teeth show The cold needle, is how you move on a strip, you trynna be Vito?, well there's rules to this shit Don't get clapped, ya'll ain't real spitters, ya'll lips chapped Better watch the Mr. Nicewatch, don't risk/wrist that I got a 6 pack of bear/bare skill that I spill like that And everybody know (THAT SHIT CRAY!) Ya'll niggas softspoken, down below token The type to drop the soap when you soakin' in front of most men It makes sense you want beef with this frozen It nuts for new school, in the tool, ya' kid hold him Better shoot yourself Plaxico, because I'm next to go The Progressive flows from New York to New Mexico A lyrical spanish, with a dance that's demandin' Step into my box and that's exactly what'chu standin' Ain't no half steppin' 'round me And you gotta drown a fish before you clown me That young cop killer, I'm dat I'll, so doc' will ya Give me two shots for 2Pac killer [Verse 2: Capital Steez] Soul searchin' 'till my flows are perfect I ain't trynna be a slave to grow old from workin' Sorry BADA$$, you lucky that I peeped the second Tell them niggas keep it steppin' with they beat selection Check the melody, it's so heavenly That shit'll get your hips to move no 70's All the Opium, can I bust soliloquies Got that shit mix and mastered both remedies Grab a spoonful, sturrin' up a pot And you know we gotta serve it while it's hot I'm flowin' like a volcano, drippin' verses while drippin' verses off the top Dirty cops still swervin' on the block Lookin' for black kids, that spittin' up acid It's in my genes, don't worry where my pants is Get with the script it's that ignorant shit And they bound to get sick off of this quick But I sealin' my lips, it's a shift I know you feel it man We blowin' up like a ceiling fan Droppin' off jewels like Killa Cam's man When it comes to kickin' verses I'm Mr. Van Damme Crushin' strawberries it's a jam So throw up both hands if you can Ironic how I'm killin' this shit Until they bury me, my volume is going in depth with longevity

Anybody

JUICY J "Blue Dream & Lean 2"
[Hook x2:] Fuck a nigga, that goes to anybody Fuck a ho, these hoes anybody I'll up that strap on anybody I'm getting bread, you can ask anybody Grab a bitch by the neck Say bitch can ya suck a dick Niggas talk behind my back I can get you for a cheque If I don't fuck with you niggas, that ain't never gonna change I'm a trill OG, don't associate with no lames I got drugs all in my system, put slugs all in yo frame Respect this or get a death wish, or don't give a fuck about fame Cuz I started watching niggas get paper I came up and I turned the tables See my money is like now and laters I'm getting paid right now and later I blow more grass than a gardener Save the bullshit for a farmer I woke up and bought a Fisker, call that good karma [Hook x2] Swimming in dough, drowning in ounce I take yo ho, drive around in my Benz Its a photo, so she brung her friends 3am now I'm swimming it in You a bitch and you know it, that's why you hate on my grind And you know I'm winning and you can't deny Say you not eating my nigga, you on a no money diet You wan't a problem take mine, I'll gun you down if you try Bulletproof vests, we dressing for war cuz we know whats next Better be strapped, if ya don't react, put a bulls eye down on yo hat You can die in yo tracks, see if yo homeboy got yo back Niggas these choppas full and these bullets hungry and you look just like a snag [Hook x2]

Get This Money

JAY-Z "The Blueprint"
[J] Yeah yeah [R] Damn it's hot [J] Like a muh'fucker [R] Yo Jigga [J] Whassup my nigga [R] Pop that water [J] Fo'schizzle! [both laughing] [R] Yeah [J] Get'cha mind right, c'mon [Jay-Z] Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh-uh Uh-uh uh-uh - gettin that money my nigga (woo.. woo.. woo.. woo..) You better call the muh'fuckin cops This is a crime, uh-uh, let's go [R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)] Keys to the Bentley, off to the club Switchin lanes like what the.. Chick on the cell wanna get with a bruh But y'all know I don't love no.. (never love her) She, say, she, slick I'm, like, baby, please She, say she's got a man but what's that got to do with me (f'real) Some chicks like low-key Wrists of, zero degrees I'm, toxic off the Belve' Two strippers, in my hotel suite Fee fie and, foe fum-ah Look out now, here I come-ah For you haters, keepin up trauma Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla) [Chorus: R. Kelly] You got what I want; I got what you need Let's put it together; get, this, mo-ney You got what I want; I got what you need Let's put it together; get, this, mo-ney [R. Kelly + (Jay-Z)] Ace hit the club 'bout five o'clock (woo!) Hungry 'bout to hit the IHOP (let's go) After that, menage-a-trois And he out by seven o'clock (p-YOON) Cause I'm a baller, thought I told ya Blue rocks lightin up my shoulders (bling!) See y'all niggaz know y'all need to grow up Your album ain't out, cause I'm the hold up (ha) Busters wanna hoop with me Wanna run our ways, doin R&B I'll, creep creep, blink blink Cross your ass over, take it from me Fee fie and, foe fum-ah Look out now, here I come-ah Golddiggers, this you gets none of Me and Jigga thugged out on the come up (holla) [Chorus] [Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)] Pull up on the block, cran-apple Benz White tank top, cran-apple trim Egg-shaped watch, cran-apple gems Dice hands 'side both of them Two rolls and I leave with a stack Off to the club, G's in in the back V.I.P. nigga beez like that When you gettin that money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney) I spit this for my riders Twenty-inch rims and wide body drivers We can't let nothin stop us (get.. this.. mo-ney) Young H-O-V-A And the boy R. Kel', you know how we play For that fetti, mayne, we'll let the lead rang You young boyz ain't ready You don't know NANN a nigga to NEAR Jigga to NEAR as well as me and the boy Kel' Yeah it's money, recognize the smell And we up out this bitch, yell [Chorus] [Jay-Z + (R. Kelly)] Gettin that money my nigga Ha ha, ha ha Ha ha ha ha ha ha I gotta laugh at this shit (get.. this.. money) Gettin this money my nigga Yeah, ohh oh ohh oh Oh it's too late to get scared niggaz (get.. this.. mo-ney) It's way too late now.. .. gettin this money my nigga (get.. this.. mo-ney) [Chorus + Jay-Z ad libs] [J] Gettin that money my nigga

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