JAY ELECTRONICA lyrics - The Jay Electronica Project

Exhibit A (Transformations)

Original and similar lyrics
I spit that wonderama shit, me & my conglomerates Shall remain anonymous, caught up in the finer shit Get that type of media coverage Obama get, spit that CurtVana kick That blow your brain Curt Cobain, that Nirvana shit Who gon bring the game back? Who gon spit that Ramo on the train track The gold rope, that 5-finger ring rap Running with my same pack, you can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at Life is like a dice game, one roll can land you in jail or cutting cake, blowing kisses in the rice rain Nice whip, nice chain, the closet of skulls Stench is like slave blood in Providence Hall Yea! They built my city on top of a grave, nigga die, nigga get high and watch the parade Back in the early 90s, 'where they at? where they at? Get the gat! get the gat!' was a popular phrase Bally animals and rugby's was a popular craze This is vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave I pave ways like Matt & Harriet I blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in a chariot Unh! I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains Ain't a damn thang changed They say, "Candyman, Candyman spit me a dream" Blow a chunk of the levy out and spit me a stream Knock a man's house down and a build a casin- A 2000 dollar government check from FEM- I swam down shit's creek and came up clean With a new lease on life like Andy Dufresne It's the most poetical, Nat King 'Unforgettable' Clearance 13X, Allah's rhapsody from Bellevue I'm splitting atoms, spitting flames, bringing change Things will never be the same I got the rap game singing at last like Etta James Lames get they plane shot down like John McCain It's a dream, it's a dream, the flow is elegant like Ms. Coretta Scott King A lot of kings seen death and turn queen, crack they 24-inch rims in the ravine Respect the architect, never test the Elohim Goodnight. This is Jay Elect live from New Orleans

Resurrection

Common Sense "Resurrection"
[Verse One] I stagger in the gathering possessed by a patter-in That be scatterin Over the globe will my vocals be travellin Unravellin my abdomen it's Lon that's babblin Grammatics that are masculine I grab them in, verbally badgerin broads I wish that Madelline, was back on Video LP I went against all odds and got a even steven Proceed to read and not believin everything I'm readin But my brain was bleedin, needin feedin, and exercise I didn't seek the best of buys, it's a lie to textualize I analyze where I rest my eyes And chastise the best of guys with punchlines I'm Nestle when it's Crunch-time For your mind like one time If poetry was pussy I'd be sunshine cause I deliver like the Sun-Times Confined in once-mines on dumb rhymes I combine I'm hype like I'm unsigned, my diet I unswine Eatin beef sometimes I try to cut back on that shit This rap shit is truly outta control My style is too developed to be arrested It's the freestyle, so now it's out on parole They tried to hold my soul in a holding cell so I would sell I bonded with a break and had enough to make bail A misdemeanor fell on his knee for the jury I asked No for his ID and the judge thought there was two of me Motion for a recess to retest my fingerprints They relinquished since, cause I was guilty in a sense [Verse Two] I ride the rhythm like a Schwinn bike when in dim light I use insight to enlight devices hit the skin tight Words of wisdom wail from my windpipe Imaginations in flight I send light, like Ben's kite I've been bright Get open like on gym nights And in fights I send rights Don't hook with skins my friends like I spend nights up in dykes In spite I've been indicted as a freak of all trades I got it made I bathe in basslines, rinse in riffs, dry in drums Come from a tribe of bums Hooked on negro and mums Had to halt with the, malt liquor Cause off the malt liquor I fought niggaz Now my speech and thought's quicker Cruisin Southside streets with no heat and no sticker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker U Ak got my back and we don't get no thicker U Ak got my back and we don't now check it I'm a homeboy not a home nigga, ain't scared of no nigga But it's my turn to go I gotta go And I'm gone with the storm

They Got Me

John Forte "Poly Sci"
featuring 20 Grand DMX .....(Forte DMX Growling).... [Chorus Forte' DMX] {Forte'} You wanna bust guns? (You wanna lock fists?) DMX in parentheses {Forte} Forte' ! (DMX!) {Forte'} Be the hottest! {Forte' DMX} We Got This!!! (You ain't hear?!!!!) {Forte'} We Got This! ( Nigga! You ain't hear?!!!) {Forte'} We Got This! {Forte' DMX} Straight up! We locked it!!! [Forte' - Verse One] Associated with the razor blade spinners like gym stars and heavy hitters, Them younger gods love banana clips, broads that strip candle wax, brown Beamers to whip And jerk a bitch, known to hit ya, for taking pictures! Thirty two shots to split ya! It's all about the cash when I'm fuckin' wit' ya! John could make ya richer! Fuck the Prince of Bel-Air! I'm known to sell heir, got game like a politician whose trying to add on, when it's not addition You need to revamp! The hottest nigga out the Refugee Camp! Run up on you B, and leave your seat damp! And sell stocks slow, sellin' high, by low From Madina up to Y.O. El Capitan John, micapo Get tore down, and that's the way it go down! The east is like the wild west without the showdown! Them niggas be like, what now?! Get cut down! From the gut down! Intense heh? And leave you shut down! You knocked out! Regardless, what round! WHAT NOW?!! [Dmx] Unghh!!! My nigga said it!! Niggas'll get it! That's the rule! I'm 'bout to break money off - a - li'l somethin', pass the food! Cuz when I'm drunk! I'm a different nigga! And all you gonna see is a spark, ain't no whiffin' nigga! I figure like this...It's just me against the world! Cuz all my fuckin' life, it's been the world against Earl! What you think I'm-a do...when my back's against the wall!!? Fuck it! get ROLLED! Roll 'til I fall! X'll Kill 'em all!!! That's what they say to me now! You vermon nigga! In a time where it's okay to be foul!! And you lovin' it! It's got John Blaze! Just duckin' it! And this track won't rest, unless X'll put the slug in it! But, would it fit?! Nah, don't even think like that! This is some shit that I could let go, and bring right back! It's like crack, if you cook it, overlook it, so I shook it!!! Like a pit, what you get, is what you wit' me so I took it! [Chorus 2x] [20 Grand Pikasoe - Verse Two] This track'll make me zone out! Run up in the party with the chrome out! Clear Jerome out, no doubt! Ice jingling, sons mingling, drugs we bring it in! Pikasoe baby! Gotta get this money baby! 50's and 100's baby! My whole crew be sonnin' you What you gonna talk about wit' a gun in front of you?! Niggas grimy wit' it, slimy wit' it! [Forte'] Put in the card baby, you gone Too many hard rappers live for cunan You knew John was too on Me and DMX, whether change your suit on Walk dogs, word to god bound to live large and get charged, WHAT!? [DMX] Unghh! Unghh! If you my dog, YOU CREEP WHEN I CREEP! EAT WHEN I EAT! SLEEP WHEN I SLEEP! For real, SHIT IS DEEP! And what you don't know, will kill you! From X, to Forte' niggas will feel you!! [Forte'] I'm roundin' mine more And very few can nine hold The kick's too strong, y'all niggas do songs, we live on! Dough to sit on! I'm down to shit on! Watch y'all talkin' mothafuckas keep walkin' watch the dogs barkin'! [DMX] Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! I set the clock! Clip the glock! Hit the block! Rip the rock! In the sock! Get the knot! This shit is hot! Can't deny it, you mothafuckas since you know how it go, don't try it! [Chorus - 3x]

Crack Spot

JOELL ORTIZ "House Slippers"
Water, jar, coke, soda Fire, pot, stir, slower Ice, fluff, whip, boulder Dry, cut, bag, over! Don't tell me that it's [?] Baby boy, you on the grind, find a back block Cop a hoopty, go see Louie for a stash spot I'm posted up until they come and get this last rock I toast it up wit' my niggas on the strip wit' me [?] for my good niggas, that's history Man, I don't check the mail without that fifth wit' me It's sixteen in that thing and it spit fully! We out here runnin' from the man, duckin' all them vans Takin' care of all the homies stuck up in the can Sittin' in somebody kitchen cuttin' up these grams If you ain't never seen it, boy you wouldn't understand Safe in that stash house tuckin' all them bands Hoodrats watchin' but we pluckin on they hens Money over hoes, nigga G's up Lawyer money, pocket money and that re-up [Hook:] Jackpot, I run the crack spot Fiends runnin' back and forth to get these blacktops Jackpot, I run the crack spot Nobody leavin' 'til the finished wit' that last rock Ain't a damn thing change, I'm out here gettin' change It's a part of the game, boy I'm out here in the rain The hood know my name, boy and my shit ring Since I don't play no games, boy I let that shit ring It's rules to this shit, a step by step booklet To get yo' game on track, not yo' wig pushed back Yeah I make that coke leave, then make that shit come back I'm Fat Joe on that stove, gotta get, cook, crack! I'm tryna get it, let some fiends hit it Let 'em lean wit' it, make sure they Bean wit' it If they become a Rocket, then we Hakeem wit' it Post up e'rywhere and let that Dream wit' it Hurricane Sandy, I flood the scene wit' it Yo' white girl dirty, my baby clean wit' it Environmentalists, I'm gettin green wit' it And it's never over when everythings finished [Hook] I see you gettin' paper, see you out here trappin' But if you ain't on my team, anything can happen I ain't out here rappin' to be rappin' I'm rappin' cause this is the new way of trappin' Baby boy, I get it crackin' Get ya head busted, get ya face smacked in Ya boy so hood, my old lady packin' Anyway, back to that trap, I ain't slackin' Just got a new package and broke it into fractions! Got the block jumpin', Blake Griffen action You got 'em like CP3, they all passin' You ain't got that fire, you sellin' wet matches I don't sell duds, e'rybody blasted Don't hate me homie, don't hate the game Hate yo' connect homie, he gave you the 'caine Or maybe it's yo' wack whip game that's to blame Or maybe it's just me motherfucker, I do my thaaang! [Hook]

Super Nigga

King Tee "IV Life"
[DJ Pooh] It's the P-double-O-H in the sky I don't need a cape cause I'm already fly like a skydiver, a nigga got drag like a race car driver, plus I'va spit saliva, liver, than McGyver ( BAM! ) Bump mo' bitches than a drunk driver Faster than a crackhead, mo' powerful than a loco when I gotcha in a chokehold I'm here to rid the city of them wack-ass groups Them wack-ass lyrics with them wack-ass loops They fakin like gangsters, turn into a Crip-tonight/Kryptonite They don't faze me, cause we can still fight But look, it's all about comin (up) up (up) up and away without bummin But a nigga don't need no Wonderwoman, hmm, I wonder who she been shuckin and jivin and fuckin Or some bitch named Lois cause the hoe is the lowest and she's Whiter than Snow is ( Too much of that Snow White! ) I think I'll fly back to the hood Kick it with the homies where you know it's all good I'll be the first superhero with a strap I know I'm all that.. ( It's a crow, it's a bat, no it's.. ) [Chorus] [Rashad] The Super Nigga Boogieman is out to make a killin So fuck wastin time leapin over tall buildings Cause I can get loose like fluid Like diarrhea - I can, run right through it I see through walls, 'specially at the malls Ladies dressing rooms is where my duty calls A lot of super niggaz be trickin they powers Givin hoes money, and flyin 'em flowers (But can you think of one thing you ever gave a hoe?) No cause we Super Niggaz, not Captain Save-A-Hoe So back on up look, I'll catch yo' ass so quick and letcho' ass know we the wrong super niggaz to be fuckin wit I flash like lightning, powerful as bombs I flied back twenty years ago and fucked your moms And now it's ninety-fo', ain't shit changed but now you call me daddy, when you call my name Cause youse a silly mortal, you ain't down for combat I'ma Super Nigga, and you an Uncle Tom cat When I'm rollin through the hood they wonder is he the nephew, of Aunt Kizzy or Dizzy Gillespie, and the rest be like That's the guy that's super, the fat track mover So wack MC's come step to these nuts and get your crews cut below half, nigga do the math I'm the M-A-N, mayne I got a fly bitch with an invisible plane Me and her be doin some X-rated shit When I get the skins, in the cockpit She be callin everything from mommy to Jesus Just ask the homies, cause them niggaz can see us Cause them super niggaz too, from the crew So please stay tuned, for more adventures of.. a Super Nigga [Chorus] [King Tee] Mr. Insane King Tee motherfuckers from the boondox I bust the drunken style on my corner with the boombox I'm badder than the baddest inmate at (?) Retarded, but let me show you what this can do Create fright, niggaz scared to touch the mic I shock 'em, amazed cause the wino rocked 'em The best yet to like really catch wreck on the scene O.G. from the Alkaholik team I just scream (AHHH!) let my backbone slip Gotta get it on then take another sip Make it hip, a feeling MC's won't forget Bust crazy rounds then load another clip (well bust it) Like R. Kelly, My mind's telling me no! But fuck that, I kick the ill flow And deep down, I know niggaz is jeal' cause I'm pullin all the hoes and dickin 'em swell But hey, cut the crap, cause like herpes I'm back to give you what you want, I don't front or skip rap with the bo, ba-ba-bye, the wicked with Tha Likwit I'm wild like a winner with the lot-to ticket But kick it, you could grab a comb and try to pick it The nappy head sound comin from the underground Oh shit it's the great, the man with the strap I know I'm all that.. ( It's a crow, it's a bat, no it's.. )

Take'm To The Water

BUBBA SPARXXX "Dark Days Bright Nights"
(feat. Duddy Ken) [Duddy Ken] Now truthfully, I believe that I'm the tightest nigga musically Usually I wouldn't brag but I've been bustin since my puberty In a Cadillac that ride with five guls and they nudity You can bring yo' best words, I bet I still outrep you brutally Low down dirty and beautiful, who wanna test my verbal side Boy I'm fly-n-tie(), especially when I let that herbal fly Southern fried, cool kid, some of that country culture Leave you dead, peep your bread, a value meal for them busters [Bubba Sparxxx] Shit I'm steppin off in the tunnel with a funnel of Keystone Ate a ten-strip of blotter, been wiggin all week long Y'all keep on, with that jibbery jabbery slippin out happily Expose you pretty hoes with a dose of this hospitality Gravity in yo' trunk while yo' producers forgot the bump We introduce you to these high hats like that, yo' spot is krunk This blunt, I put the fire to, I really do admire you But even though Bubba dirty, he certainly fin' to shine too [Chorus: Duddy Ken] I hope you can swim if you wanna battle You're up shit creek without a paddle Whatcha gon' do now, grab my pen and slaughter Bubba Ken and Duddy Ken, take'm to the water I hope you can swim if you wanna battle You're up shit creek without a paddle Y'all ain't ready (y'all ain't ready) Y'all ain't ready - take'm to the water [Bubba Sparxxx] See momma named me lil' devil, that ain't no relation to Satan Ain't got no patience for hatin, I'll be at the station awaitin the arrival of that DJ that don't replay unless we pay I stormed the beach like D-Day, now that bitch play, when we say I'm with D.K., ain't no N.Y., and we been fly, since gin () Sips bourbon with a twist, Bubba lurkin in your midst Without my dick perverted this cause y'all was smellin vaginal Been bumped wrong, one too many times for actin rational [Duddy Ken] D.K. I bomb folks, man I throw heat like I was John Smokes But mine from a gun though, change yo' name to John Doe Shit, have your whole family Mourning like Alonzo Then go back to my condo, so I can let my kind grow Is you blind folk Why you can't see bigger thangs Don't rup on this stage, cause ain't no bitch-ass nigga mayn And my mob ain't either, don't make me have to play a song with my lil' chrome heater, bet that and () punk nigga Now get it get it crunk, like jumpoffs, B.K. they trippin I'm fin' to go on and take one of they lumps off, cause I ain't slippin Just hippin you to this real shit, so get in where you fit Sittin on lean, off that Jim Beam, fin' to throw a fit From A.T.H. to Atlanta, Louisiana, Savannah Sippin gin and Tropicana while Georgia play Alabama Might stumble over a freestyle and pick up like a scanner Turn the mics off lost, somebody call the light boss [Chorus] [Bubba Sparxxx] Aww shit Boy I'm out here chasin daddy lucid, shit Satan produced it Switched from duce-duces to substance abuse nuisance Fuckin these loose gooses, raw dick, we all sick I'm goin skinny dippin after y'all hit (aww shit) That country fuckin Bubba hit his head and lost his mind Eight grand for a Roley That only just bought you time I'm in line waitin to grind, it's too cloudy for me to shine I'ma keep this bitch krunk, get rowdy, while you recline And in time, I'ma jump this fuckin ship, and run and get my crown in every town, I lay it down, when I spit This shit, is so much more than white folks and white thangs or black folks and black thangs, just bounce if the track bangs You lack game, Bubba got that shit goin two for fifty Communicatin cool with them country folk, strictly Just hit me, on the beep, whenever, cause I don't sleep Two thousand, every week, take a peep, before you leap [Chorus - repeat 2X]

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