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JUVENILE lyrics - 400 Degreez

Ha (Hot Boys Remix)

Original and similar lyrics
[Juvenile] Hmm... You better run for it, run for it, run! Run for it, run for it, run! Run for it, run for it, run! You been known for fuckin it up, ha Them bad-ass 20's on your truck, ha, cost seven and up, ha You tryin' to stay from out that place, ha Make sure you got your money straight ha, before it's too late ha You want your Momma livin good ha Move your children out the hood ha, to up in the woods, ha Baby post seventy off the hook, ha Manny Fresh has possession, supposed to be up in the book, ha Juvenile got them looks, ha; but you too scared to fuck with him cause he be runnin with them crooks, ha I'm the one, ha Stick a fork in that nigga cause he's done, ha for flippin the tounge, ha You got a probation hole, ha You got money for bail so now you ready to roll, ha You bout to buy you a car ha, a ninety-nine ha One that look somethin like mine ha [Chorus 2x] You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire Remainin a G.. until the moment you expire You know what it is.. to make.. nothin out of somethin You handle your biz, and don't be cryin and sufferin [Turk] We got this thing locked, ha Cash Money can't be stopped ha, them Hot Boys too hot, ha And you like my Rolex watch, ha And the way I hit the block ha, in camouflage with glocks, ha And you like it when we stunt, ha Smokin blunts, ha You be lovin them gold fronts, ha We millionaires, ha Not far from billionaires, ha Got different broads everywhere, ha [Lil' Wayne] You heard 'bout Lil' Wayne, H-O-T B-O-Y, ha Shorty with the braids for Cash Money gon' pop, ha-uh I burn, ha, the hammer sits, ha, here come the blitz, ha A remix, ha, they from the Nolia I'm from the Grove, ha And you can catch me with Tolie and Mario, ha I represent the 2.. uh 2-6, ha It's guaranteed to be... foolish, ha [Chorus (Repeat)] [B.G.] You niggaz know I'm bout my biz, ha You niggaz scared for me to be in the presence of your bitch, ha You know I would raw dick her ha, take naked pictures ha then call up my clique and straight flip her ha You know my click number-one stunters, ha You know we 'bout it, flexin Lex's, Benz's, and Hummers, ha You know you fuck with me, you're dead, ha But don't lie, I fucked your baby-momma, and you feel played, ha You know that jailhouse is somethin, ha Bitch niggaz buckin, but when it go down, they run to the button, ha You know the B.G. ain't right ha; you love you hoe, but she don't wanna get it right, and keep it right, ha It's goin' down in '99, ha You know fo' sho' that it Cash Money time to shine, ha You know I play the game raw, ha You know you slip up, I'ma take this beef shit too far, ha [Chorus (Repeat)] [Juvenile] Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh Let's say you're at a DJ, and them boys pullin' guns You better run for it, run for it, run You in the Magnolia, and my people pullin' guns You better run for it, run for it, run Run for it, run for it, run Run for it, run for it, run We'll grab the MAC-11 when we march, nigga, step Fuck with CMR, we gon' march, nigga, step Play with Manny Fresh, we gon' march, nigga, step Play with my nigga, Baby, we gon' march, nigga, step

The Stick Up

MYSTIKAL "Ghetto Fabulous"
[Mia X] [Mystikal] MC.. (Whoa) This is your motherfuckin time nigga, you ready (Huh bro) You sho' you ready (Fuckin right.. nigga what!) Fuck that mask we don't need no mask they know who we is anyway! What we gon' do, is go in here, handle our business Take everything and break out You feelin me [gun cocks] Well let's let them niggaz have it [Mia X] This is a stick, up, MC's lay it down We got the clout in this bitch so don't be fuckin around Got the rap game locked, spittin what they feelin Makin all the money, got em say we rackateering Y'all fearing No Limit, black owned and operated Uncle Tom's and Lil' Sambo's get annihilated Y'all ain't tolerated, cause only soldiers ride with T-R-U On the Tank full of lyricists, hustlers, and gorillas Killers, and we do what we gotta do to make it happen All action, all cappin, fuck yappin Mappin, out the industry, gon' blow this joint and take the royalties, the publishin and all the points right with us It's the Black Prince and the Biggest Mama Shootin sparks from the top of the Billboard charts Watch out now, don't nobody move, cause you gon' lose Then we takin everything, cause we brought the right tools [ Chorus: Fiend [repeat 2X]] Give it up, give it up, or get fucked up It's gon' happen point blank range, so don't even duck We lust to bust, turnin bitches to dust Always your ass if you don't give it up [Mystikal] Black Prince in this bitch with the Biggest Mom of em all Out of sight, when we unite, like killers and George Slowly, unlock the safe on the wall Stop disrespectin the pistol I'm pointin at y'all Buck buck! Get down, get on your face or get handled Bitch keep still 'fore I make an example Cut up that fuckin remake, and give me that sample Give me the fuckin recoup, you 'sposed to be payin me! Bag the loot then, cover the camera Snatch a fuckin hostage then run out with the manager Fuck it, gotta have my paper, fortune and fame Lay it down so the bitches won't forget my name! [GUN FIRES] Listen close motherfucker If you don't meet my demands, this nigga gon' suffer This ain't no fucking game, and ain't none of this funny If you want this nigga to live, then gimme your company! [ Chorus ]

Trife Thieves

D12 "Devils Night"
[Chorus: repeat 2X] Trife thieves we can't be trusted step into my clique the wrong way and get your motherfucking dome busted We got cement shoes for all you damn snitches We ain't just shooting niggaz we buckin bitches [Bizarre] My fully loaded nine will shoot through your metal door Have ya nigga's far and out like white kids at grocery stores (AHHHH) Battle bizarre and its just to deadly Even a rapper with amnesia who met me still could forget me If I don't get all my fucking dough Y'all gonna see more fights and spits then the Jerry Springer show Cause I'm a nasty, dirty, filthy bitch But _ even a basshead with AIDS would suck my dick Cause I'm quick to snatch a nigga out his polo I'm the reason nigga's come ten deep and end up leavig solo Meet losing ya'll nigga's must be bugging We can battle for ten minutes and let your cousins be the judges I'm the illest rapper to come out thus far I'll shoot anybody even the bitch who gave me CPR Step to the Outz and end up getting burned Fuck around and get raped like one of Bill Clinton's interns [Eminem] I'll shove a gun in ya grill greasy and heated smothered in hot mustard so when I feed it to you it's easy to eat it You need to be immediately treated while you breathin or you'll be leavin the receivin room this evenin with Jesus You hate on us and we'll be waitin on eight corners swarmin ya hood With a thousand angry skateboarders (c'mon) I hop in a jeep and slam on the gas and charge you and bombard you in the car that your mom bought you Fuck around and get choked and found in a moat Flotin around drowned face down in a boat I'll pile five dudes in a pinto and pull up to the 7 Mile drive-through at McDonald's and piledrive you I got the power to snatch a motherfucker out of his car When he drives by me at 90 mph This place is my house I might as well erase my face with white out cause y'all can't see me like Mase's eyebrows [Fuzz] I'm dressed to please sucking nips, yeah, she get it The same way that I fucked the chick Stuck my hands in her panties like bitch suck my dick 87 freak 187 heat the passion rolls I'm passing clothes You like it in the ass is what I'm askin hoes Aren't you Fuzz he has sold more albums then the Jackson's sold I love you baby if I'm not with you then I'm blastin foes Telepathly harrasing foes I know your little sister is four-teen but her ass can grow Ice-berg took down Titantic elastical Given my fans the exact shit they asking for Fuzz Scooter fucking one man bout to show you passing one blunt Bitch we passing four I rode your ass and smoked take one pull and smoke your head up I'll send you to tell 2Pac to keep his head up I went to the fighting really Canibus who can get up I knew this shit was over from the fucking blood that he spit up Ran a couple more miles should have done more sit-ups I want his dumb ass to jump up bitch and get lit up Call your bitch like bitch come and pick this bitch up On battle you be sweeter then I get this shit up I'll stomp you too you get up Or stomp you to the cops come Eighty nigga's came when your fucking block got dumb [(Chorus) x2]

Betta Ask Somebody

50 CENT "Beg For Mercy"
[50 Cent] I, know, you, know I'm, on, fiiiii-re [Chorus: 50 Cent] If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me Oh - you wanna be tough nigga, a look is enough I put that snub nose to ya and bust nigga If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me And they'll tell ya I'm a soldier boy And I done told ya, over and over boy [Verse One: Lloyd Banks] I come from a big city, the streets corrupt Now I'm rollin with snub-noses to heat you up Out here niggaz'll do anything to reach a buck Cause when you broke you can't afford to fuck ya sneakers up I take my time, keep my mind on my bank funds Learn how to seperate the real from the fake ones And on my heater nina rep what could I carry on My nigga just lost his momma, and his daddy gone From now on I can provide cause my paper's straight Family losin his legs, but I can take the weight Some niggaz hate but I'll be damned if they hold me down Front niggaz didn't know me then, bet they know me now Blunt and a smile, eventually it'll be a frown Cause every time I turn around a nigga locked down While I'm in the world, tryin to bring my loot through Hopin one day we can kick it like we used to, my nigga [Chorus] [Verse Two: Young Buck] Uhh, they never seen 26's on a Hummer My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer Some niggaz hate me, but they only made me Go and put mo' ice in my mouth than Baby (bling bling!) G-Unit and Shady, them dudes is crazy Next time, we only usin Dr. Dre's beats Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks This ain't no Nelly hurr, take a good look at this Got the wrists of a chemist and the heart of a hustler Plus I probably done robbed mo' artists than Russell Always in trouble, you can blame my mother Gave birth to a gorilla and raised him in the jungle I ain't crawled, I stumbled across the Mexican with birds Papi had coke and new plates and pounds of herb Keep my hand on my glock, and my ear to the streets I'm a country boi, you can hear it when I speak G-Unit! [Chorus] [Verse Three: 50 Cent] Bentley is all dreams, G-5 is understood I made a nigga heart colder than December (yeah!) Don't take much to make my gun go off One shot'll make a hardrock look oh so soft (woo!) If you don't know you betta ask who I be Or end up in ICU gettin fed through a IV Down in the Lou', they say they feelin me derrty In New Orleans they say I'm that nigga, ya heard me? From them Southside blocks to Watts, Westside don't front You know about them Grapestreet Gangstas, G'd up Rollin that weed up Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked Hit with a bat or beat up Fuck that, we're on that same bullshit Same forty-cally glock, same full clip Pussy claat bwoy, ya nah wanna tak wif me I'm a real rudebwoy, ya nah wanna ruf wif me [Chorus]

G Style

ICE-T "Home Invasion"
[Intro:] Yeah! Right about now motherfuckers is layin for a nigga like me Ice-T to bust some freestyle shit... but I don't do that I just cold lounge up here at the Ammo Dump with my nigga Alladdin, SLJ, LP and my nigga Henry G Yeah, we do the shit like this [Verse One:] The card after the ace is deuce So cut the nigga loose on the 3 That's me The motherfuckin T I got ride on my surfboard Rhyme hard But only buy the shit that I can't afford That's everything That's why I truck big fat rings Cause in the motherland gold is for kings I got backup To jack up Punks who try to act up Do a world tour Watch the big bank stack up Motherfuckers get dropped with the quickness I got an ill left and a right fist Make mistakes and you'll lose Or you might die Cause I'm the wrong Ice for your bruise And that's no lie Meanwhile the penile is stacked to the top with my niggaz Mostly for squeezin triggas I call em homies Pigs call em crooks So I write and put bucks on they books I give a fuck about a cop or a G-man They all talk shit Their breath smellin like semen I catch em in the alley all alone Put em in the prone Pop! Pop! Pop! To the dome [Chorus:] It's the G-style Gangsta style [Verse 2:] G Style, The gangsta talk I got a teflon .9 And it eats vest I take a motherfucker out quick Just for talkin shit Ride Rolls Catch hoes like a mitt LA, Atlanta, New York Yo, my shit rocks Chi-town, Miami, Detroit I get much props Because I roll with the hardcore G Every street's the same street to me I don't bullshit I don't quit Writin a rhyme fit KKK pray each day That I get hit Motherfuckers try to flip on the Icepick Move and slip Close the eyes and catch a fuckin clip Not in the ghetto no more But I do hang Got a black game And it's sittin on them thangs I kick the game from the street Not the slamma Tighten up my knockas with a big lead hammer [Chorus] [Verse Three:] Some of the times I write my raps with extreme speed Some of the times I take the pen and make pads bleed My mind clicks to Homocide Bullets fly Ladies cry A lot of people die Some nights I can't right Stare at the blue lines I think I'm a go blind Then the beat becomes me Sit in the dark And write a whole fuckin LP G Style, the gangsta talk Never near soft Hard as a knockout bout It's no sellout I keep crime in my rhyme Cause it's my thing Packed with guns And drugs And lots of street slang A-B-C-D-E-F, and LAPD Words from a motherfuckin OG Ammo Dump pumps the sounds that you bump in your trunk So turn it up punk What'cha fraid of What'cha made of Pull the pin Set the grenade off Blastin sounds out ya jeep On every city street, nigga Straight gangsta beat [Chorus] [Verse Four:] Many like to dress the style, and act hardcore Many motherfuckers are and they crack jaws I like to lay in the cut In a nightclub Don't smoke bud Drink suds But I gets loved, mack, cool I scope the freak with the mad backs Hit her with the gangsta style Cool, relaxed, bam Put her in the Benz Bump Too $hort, let her know Right off the top, what's my sport You think long You think wrong You got it goin on, baby doll But I won't sing you no love song You either love me Or you don't You're either rollin tonight Or you won't She likes the style Cause it don't bullshit around Tounge in my ear, real slow And then it went down I gotta flip into a ill mode Pack a clip full of hype tracks And then unload Music for the hardcore beatdown No weak pop shit Strictly underground And if you don't like the style, as I get wreck Ease back nigga, catch a knife through the neck [Chorus]

Notorious Thugs

BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY "Bone, Thugs N-Harmony The Collection: VOL. 1"
NOTORIOUS B.I.G. featuring Bone thugs-n-harmony Bizzy: Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody, everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . This is a lake of fire, but I can't even hold on. [Simulated clapping.] Krayzie: Notorious thugs. Layzie: Nothin' but them thugstas. Nothin' but them thugstas [thugstas]. Notorius B.I.G.: Armed and dangerous: ain't too many can bang with us. Straight up weed, no angel dust. Label us notorious thug-ass niggas that love to bust. It's strange to us, y'all niggas be scramblin', gamblin' up in restaurants with mandolins and violins. We just sittin' here tryin' to win, try not to sin, high off weed and lots of gin. So much smoke, need oxygen, steadily countin' them Benjamins. Nigga, you'd should, too, if you knew what this game would do to you. Been in this shit since ninety-two. Look at all the bullshit I've been through: so-called beef with you-know-who, fucked a few female stars or two. Then a blue light, niggas move like Mike, shit, not to be fucked with. Muthafucka, better duck quick, 'cause me and my dogs love to buck shit. Fuck the luck, shit, strictly aim, no aspirations to quit the game. Spit your game, talk your shit, grab your gat, call your click, squeeze your clip, hit the right one. Pass that weed, I gotsta light one. All them niggas, I gotsta fight one. All them hoes, I gotsta like one. Our situation is a tight one. What you wanna do: fight or run? Seems to me that you'll take B, Bone and B.I.G., nigga, die slowly. I'm a tell you like a nigga told me, cash rules everything 'round me. Shit, lyrically, niggas can't see me. Fuck it. Buy the coke, cook the coke, cut it. Know the bitch, before you caught yourself lovin' it. Nigga, roll the Benz, fuckin' in it. Doesn't it seem odd to you? B.I.G. come through with mobs and crews. Goodfellas down for the Mo Thug crew. Who's the killa: me or you? Puff Daddy: We forgive you, for you know not what you do. Bizzy: Seven A.M. woke in the morning, with Hen and caffiene and green and nicotine. No dough, so pop a couple of those. Little RIPsta, nigga, Mr. Clean make it gleam, deep in my temple, and I go get sentimentally steamed with my instrumelody and heated especially for your team and the forty-five indeed will beam in between the seams, destroy your dreams. You willing to die? We'll see how many flee when I 'cause the scene. We mean mug, Mo Thug, trained to be perfect disciples when it's survival time, die by double-edged sword, triple six rivals spittin' fire, that's the real truth, bitch, breakin' down for lives, my Messiah, better get ready for Armageddon, shoots expired, it's wild. Bless the child, the one that became a man, but them positions' already there, all that I had to do was stare. Test me now, contend, never no surrender, no pretend, pick up my gun in my hand, one of my trusty friend, friends. Hey, open and let 'em see if we're real. We all suited, beg my pardon to Martin, baby, we ain't marchi n', we shootin', and daily recrutin'. There's a thug born everyday in the ghetto. We start 'em off little, we give 'em a bottle and a pen and pad. They hit the label, kick it. Krayzie: Little Kray roll on over to the dark spot, to the dome with a shot of burb, now me go back to the curb. Me feelin' that urge to splurge, but I'm broke as fuck. Sin, gimme that Mossberg swerve. Off into my pad, 'cause I gotta get my mask and shells to put in this twelve-gauge sawed-off, get 'em mauled off, nigga, y'all lost. They get hauled off. Got a nigga callin', though, for the pump, now Leatherface, Sin runnin', thuggin' and cuttin', Lil' Mo! Hart quick to pull it, ain't nothin'. Bitch, if you're steppin', we're buckin' them guts. That's fucked up. Now let me get down for the crime. Got to go purchase a dime, put in the state, nigga double the crime, smokin' the reefer to ease my mind. Swig some wine, step on the block with the rocks, but really me servin' 'em dummies, see. Gotta buck 'em on down, if they come talkin' like, Give me back me money. Thuggin' with me killas, need us a liter of liquor, but niggas ain't got shit, but a sawed-off pump, chrome .38 pistol, now who ready to get back ? Nigga like me fiendin' for them green leaves, but I ain't had no dough. Gotta make some money, so I makin' my dummy rocks, if I go broke. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . . Layzie: [Yeah.] Little Lay, hey, comin' in the form of scripture, fin to get ya and hit ya with magic, drivin' out late, but I call on my gadgets. With an automatic status, we spray. Time to load the glocks, but I'm thinkin' not, there's another evil force tellin' me to do what I gotta do, so I up my pipe, a nigga dyin' tonight, and I'm always runnin' from the boys in blue, biggy-blue's on my ass. Now, I whip out the cellular phone to call Bone, What's happenin'? Grab artillery. Niggas start packin', 'cause a muthafucka tried to get me in a jackin', and I did him. Hit 'em right between the eyes. The spot was wise. Wanna test a nigga's size, and it cost him. Nigga fuck around with the wrong shit, y'all get mo mudered all day, all day. We can play that way, and I'm on the run. I'm a call my boys, and bring all the guns. Y'all niggas wanna have a little fun with #1, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum, rum, rum, rum, rum, rum, bloody red, redrum. Bizzy: It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie. It's Bone and Biggie, Biggie . . . Krayzie: We gonna rock the party [rock the party, party]. Better run and tell everybody [everybody]. alternating with Layzie: Ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Let's ride. Come on and . . . Bizzy: Get high, get high, get high . . .

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