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JAY-Z lyrics - In My Lifetime Vol. 1

Where I'm From

Original and similar lyrics
[Jay-Z] uh-huh, je-je je-je-jeah ye-ye-yeah, ye-ye-yeah How real is this, how real is this Uh-huh huh, Inspect this here, check [Verse One:] I'm from where the hammer's rung, New's cameras never come You and your man houndin' every verse in your rhyme where the grams is slung, niggas vanish every summer Where the blue vans would come, we throw the work in the can and run Where the plans was to get funds and skate off the set To achieve this goal quicker, sold all my weight wet Faced with immeasurable odds still I get straight bets So I felt some more something and you nothing check I from the other side with other guys don't walk to much And girls in the projects wouldn't fuck us if we talked too much So they ran up town and sought them dudes to trust I don't know what the fuck they thought, those niggas is foul just like us I'm from where the beef is inevitable, Summertime's unforgetable Boosters in abundance, buy a half-price sweater new Your world was everything, So everything you said you'd do You did it, Couldn't talk about it if you ain't lived it I from where niggas pull your car, and argue all day about Who's the best MC's, Biggie, Jay-Z, and Nas Where the drugs czars evolve, and thugs always are At each other's throats for the love of foreign cars Where cats catch cases, hoping the judge R and R's But most times find themselves locked up behind bars I'm from where they ball and breed rhyme stars I'm from Marcy son, just thought I'd remind y'all [Chorus: 5x] Cough up a lung, where I'm from, Marcy son, Ain't nothing nice Mentally been many places but I'm Brooklyn's own [Verse Two:] I'm from the place where the chruch is the flakiest And niggas is praying to god so long that they Atheist Where you can't put your vest away and say you'll wear it tomorrow Cause the day after we'll be saying, damn I was just with him yesterday I'm a block away from hell, not enough shots away from straight shells An ounce away from a triple beam still using a hand-held weight scale Your laughing, you know the place well Where the Liqour Store's and the base well And Government, fuck Government, niggas polotic themselves Where we call the cops the A-Team cause they hop out of vans and spray things And life expectancy so low we making out wills at eight-teen Where how you get rid of guys who step out of line, your rep solidifies So tell me when I rap you think I give a fuck who criticize If the shit is lies, god strike me And I got a question, are you forgiving guys who live just like me We'll never know One day I pray to you and said if I ever blow, Let 'em know Mistakes ain't exactly what takes place in the ghetto Promise fulfilled, but still I feel my job ain't done Cough up a lung, where I'm from, Marcy son, ain't nothing nice [Chorus 4x] [Verse Three:] I'm from where they cross-over and clap boards Lost Jehovah in place of rap lords, listen I'm up the block, round the corner, and down the street From where the Pimps, Prostitutes, and the Drug Lords meet We make a million off of beats, cause our stories is deep And fuck tomorrow, as long as the night before was sweet Niggas get lost for weeks in the streets, twisted off weed And no matter the weather, niggas know how to draw heat Whether your four-feet or Minute size, it always starts out with Three dice and shoot the five Niggas thought they douce was live, now hit 'em with trips And I reached down for their money, pa forget about this This time around it's platinum, like the shit on my wrist And this glock on my waist, y'all can't do shit about this Niggas will show you love, That's how they fool thugs Before you know it your lying in a pool of blood [Chorus 4x]

Move To Mars

PASTOR TROY "D.S.G.B. I Am D.S.G.B."
[Verse 1] Now who the fuck wouldn't be fucked up In the city where crack sells and clientele never tell yo life A nigga beats his wife, damn it's hurting me But I can't help her man the way this grind be working me Dodging the narc's Cop's pulling up they fuck with us Cause we on our corner Can't tell 'em what I wanna If I do I'ma gonna They leave put they just ride the block I serve my rocks, bump 'em out before they next stop Fake ass cops Why the fuck these niggas fuck with me Muthafucker, I'm the one that pay ya salary Don't get fired Green making me so tired Telling they stories, chasing money so I let them bore me I know you could have been All I say is should of been Fuck reminiscing nigga how many hits ya getting So I can hit the house Try to smoke a ounce Let the weed protect me From everything I see in this fucked up reality [Hook: repeat 4X] I'm bout to move to Mars y'all The world a mess [Verse 2] So I'm stuck to fearing of myself I'm nineteen going on death I should've left when I was born Cutting ambilical's The doctor should've cut my arm, right at my vein The pain make's me smoke the reefer Helps me relax It helps me really see this shit, I face the facts I act like I'm loving life, then I act fo' real Nigga's is getting shot, nigga's is getting killed But still nothing's done Questions asking me how--can I sell to my people My people won't help me out I'm pissed but I can't pout Nothing change cause I'm mad Understand life comes and goes So I guess it's a fad I often had to little, simulator my friend So you can't hate me or this game I'm in I have been with out a damn dime And it's fucked up, cause it's happened more than one time Therefore I grind I find myself angry November 18, God let this world claim me Against my wishes But this is how a nigga do ya Once ya born, it's like the Lord never knew ya (cause why) Cause this hell Ya either sell or ya getting sold Like we some slaves Though they say that we free, it's the same shit today A better way, don't lie to me The realest nigga All I can see is reality God told me. [Hook: repeat 8X] I'm bout to move to Mars y'all The world a mess [Verse 3] I've seen enough It's like I'm seeing the same shit again Nothing but thugs as friends Pretend it's cool Yeah, pretends it alright And this nigga begged me for food for the third night-in a row I didn't know that my own was so hungry I wonder if I was a bum would my people disown me Rather lonely, but than again hell we all alone To keep me from snapping All my actions I put in songs The wrong damn nigga The wrong damn time The right brand of liquor The right size dime I blaze and hit the hennesy And I realize, this world wasn't meant for me Reality [Hook: repeat until fade] I'm bout to move to Mars y'all The world a mess

Dip Dip Di

Keith Murray "The Most Beautifullest Thing in This World"
Intro: It's goona be that it's gonna be that shit Hook: Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8) Verse 1: Keith Murray is this mic phychosis I break your best rappers off thousands of pieces I'm on some other shit splittin' wigs with my penmanship Kick flows harder then the music so feel in your head and chest And pass it to the next They gave me 5 mic checks and all due respect So please fill it up and check the anitfreeze Cause this nigga Keith drop mad degrees I launch tomahawk missles when I talk with permiscuesus Intelligence like Mr. Romp From New York unto the world over I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy I easily gets busy and takes 3 I'm the nicest MC on this side of the pennisula Stuck in the perimeter like a ninja Hook Verse 2: The Def Squad MC's is shittin' on your new transmitters Not quiters now forgetters Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers I'm like a mad scientist with this son I concock some shit that'll bust the sun I got the stunky funky illest funk flow For the glamorous scandalous world of radio So how you want? Headcreads or ceelo? I gets root deep like cavity cretes Rockin' motherfuckers directly to sleep A tybarrious rebel without a pause for the cause And no claws the style is the son of noise Peace to the hardcore the outlaw raw Bug youngblood thugs, strong as ? 64 ounce jugs In the realms of the danger Hook Verse 3: Bust the contrast and how I forecast Supersonic hyperphonic goin' on that ass paragraph With the million dollar bionic metaphoric lyrical math Generating off the chronic By cooling in the dark path and the drug rath of the ath And the ill shit that I craft It's labeled as sick logic to the critics of the didicks But they don't know the half of the half The apperatus status of a maddisist I conqure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hook Causin' more trama with my mouth then the stealth bomber Killing every style in the book Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow My style is coming from down south and cross yonder I drop the dope shit for masses and non-believers Like spiral passes to butter finger wide recievers As my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probe To the farthest reaches of the globe Payin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' fools I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules This is danger Hook

Danger

Keith Murray "The Most Beautifullest Thing in This World"
Intro: It's goona be that, it's gonna be that shit Hook: Lounge homeboy you in the danger zone (x8) Verse 1: Keith Murray is this mic phychosis I break your best rappers off thousands of pieces I'm on some other shit splittin' wigs with my penmanship Kick flows harder then the music so feel in your head and chest And pass it to the next They gave me 5 mic checks and all due respect So please fill it up and check the anitfreeze Cause this nigga Keith drop mad degrees I launch tomahawk missles when I talk with permiscuesus Intelligence like Mr. Romp From New York unto the world over I walk MC's like Jesus walked on water As my airy frequency reigns through the galaxy I easily gets busy and takes 3 I'm the nicest MC on this side of the pennisula Stuck in the perimeter like a ninja Hook Verse 2: The Def Squad MC's is shittin' on your new transmitters Not quiters now forgetters Runnin' deep like rivers (word 'em up) what is My delivers, which is, givin' crews the shivers I'm like a mad scientist with this son I concock some shit that'll bust the sun I got the stunky funky illest funk flow For the glamorous scandalous world of radio So how you want? Headcreads or ceelo? I gets root deep like cavity cretes Rockin' motherfuckers directly to sleep A tybarrious rebel without a pause for the cause And no claws the style is the son of noise Peace to the hardcore the outlaw raw Bug youngblood thugs, strong as ? 64 ounce jugs In the realms of the danger Hook Verse 3: Bust the contrast and how I forecast Supersonic hyperphonic goin' on that ass paragraph With the million dollar bionic metaphoric lyrical math Generating off the chronic By cooling in the dark path and the drug rath of the ath And the ill shit that I craft It's labeled as sick logic to the critics of the didicks But they don't know the half of the half The apperatus status of a maddisist I conqure up a new style puffin' ganja, over the hook Causin' more trama with my mouth then the stealth bomber Killing every style in the book Like it's goin' outta style tomorrow My style is coming from down south and cross yonder I drop the dope shit for masses and non-believers Like spiral passes to butter finger wide recievers As my photo type sound gays leis and hoes my style probe To the farthest reaches of the globe Payin' dues got me cockin' tools, you fuckin' fools I'm rippin' crew and no exception to the the god damn rules This is danger Hook

47 Bars

AB-SOUL
This verse was ghost written by Capital STEEZ I’m high cause I fly with Loriana’s angel wings Not cause I smoke weed, we in the era of the Pros If you peepin' this your speaker Is worth 47 Karat gold, Soul Yo, correct me if I'm lyin', you got a Hublot, but we both know You still check your iPhone to tell the time Only time will tell, you're atomic as my microscopic You tryin' to spit a verse, I'm trying to crack the microcosms of the universe It's all Mathematics! I multiply division like I was fitted for glasses The difference between me and you is All you do is subtract, all my tracks sub To sum it up that ain't adding up, I've had it up To here with this shit I be hearin' These Days Marvel Comics' superheroes in capes with marbles for brains But I'm the Peter Parker in this World Wide Web Spider senses tingling, move like I have 8 legs I got next, cause I show them how to use their head Rip the arms of a grizzly with my bare hands I bet you play dead and I bet they think That I'm delivering babies the way I bring in the bread And I hate to address it but niggas wearin' dressses now? Hey, it do cost a lot to live this here lifestyle Cash money talk, bullshit walk a million miles And I don't even write, where am I supposed to draw the line? If skills sold, truth be told, I'd actually be Rapsody Half of these niggas sell pussy after the Top Dawg that mastered this craftsmanship Ain't cop these Margielas to go back to the ave then Crip To make you more jealous cause now we getting paid per view Cash stacks in the plasma, that's a Pay-Per-View And I still remember what Pac's Pop told us "Keep your enemies close nigga, watch your homies" And it's the ones that smoke blunts with ya, troll your insta Now they wanna grab the guns and come and get ya My little sister just did molly for the first time While I'm rolling with models, forgetting I'm a role model Who else you know who shot across the whole nation No MTV Jam or radio rotation So don't ask me about Kendrick and Q Jay Rock, Zaywop and SZA's sexy ass too Cause I was thinking Long Term before I met them I've been through Hell and back I deserve Heaven And I thank all of yall who supported the 'These Days Tour' For 47 cities there's 47 Bars And this is the 47th bar

Gots Like Come On Thru (Remix)

Buddha Monk "Prophecy"
[Intro: Buddha Monk, (Ol' Dirty Bastard)] Ahahahaha Minds start to freeze, at ease Its the Wu-Tang Killa Beez Brooklyn Zu, where we roll, Manchuz Comin at yo' avenuez 36 chambaz at a theater near ya (To all my muthafuckin niggaz in the place to be And lllllast man to me) We gon' take hip hop to anotha level [Chorus: Buddha Monk Ol' Dirty Bastard] Wu, Gots like come on through Su, That's the call of the Wu Zu, Gots like come on through Su, That's the call for the Zu [Hook: Buddha Monk Ol' Dirty Bastard] If your from the east coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu Su, That's the call for your crew If your from the west coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu Su, That's the call for your crew [Buddha Monk] Yo, I make myself official with the 7-dotted temple And the knowledge procedes to take off like Emmitt's missle Its the rapfire comin from this Lord, Monk and sire Cut like barbfire, ka-boom, just raise your hands higher I get off even if its battle or war, yall niggaz hit the floor And word iz bond, It still prescibes laws, hate the allegations So, I slam on this nation with motivation and watch out for the Zu domination We could take it to anotha level, glock-block that kills treble Honey rebels, and all yall niggaz betta end up in fuckin Belleview Yo, I mean that, I'm a god and I cut you no slack You wanna act, then I attack and just split your wig back Your some lame ass nigga rockin Tommy Hilfiger With 3 sizes larger just to make you look bigger And all you people out there procrastinatin to stop the assassination You betta check up with your still and just watch the Zu nation [Chorus] [Drunken Dragon - Zu Manchuz] Now take this, I hit you with the Drunken Dragon Fist Got the punk for your mind leavinz niggas in bliss I look deep into your eyes, diggin in your soul Pullin out the inner thoughts, leave minds behold I know exactly what your thinking, I wait for you to blink And I hit you with a round to make your ego start sinking I send your wack ass back to class, learn something So you can peep the real shit, and you can stop fronting On your phony block, with your phony glock until you slip When niggaz burn the drama they put teks on your lips Hey son, I just thought about that shit And you wanna be a gangsta rapper, boy you get the dick The Drunken Dragon, comin at you And if I hear you say Brooklyn Zu, I say Yo, who you? cuz [Chorus] [Buddha Monk] Back the fuck up before I use my gat Spray two to your neck and four to your back It's the hardcore warrior, straight from Medina Look on my face it shows, no one meaner Brooklyn Zu Killa Bees on the swarm I be in your area so sound the alarm Monks in the front know not to fuckin drunk Knocking down niggaz, and the girl sees the lump Shit is real, yes I'm hittin hard like steel I'm comin through your town so it's best that you peel For real, yes I get dirty with my skill No slacks in my thoughts, no time for my to trip up Niggaz, your crazy, I leave no fuckin traces When I put it on that ass you'll be desintegrated Crazy lunatic with the style that's sick Somebody in my click is bound to set a pick Your hit, by this trife shit that I fix I'm just like the devil, I don't play no tricks, cuz [Chorus] [Hook] [Outro: Buddha Monk, (Ol' Dirty Bastard)] 1-1-2, 4-4-1 Frankin Av. Peace, to my nigga Wack (Its all good, its all bad Dirty runs for the mayor next year, finally You'll neva see meeeeeee) Zu Zu Zu Zu Zu Zu Zu SUUUUUUUUUUU!!

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