JUVENILE lyrics - Being Myself

U Can't C Me

Original and similar lyrics
[Chorus:] Now you can't hang around, my crew or my clique, Especially if you ain't about no gangsta shit, You can't hang around, my crew or my clique, Especially if you ain't about no gangsta shit [First Verse:] Kirby's round the corner playin' bones with Russ, I'm waitin' for my bitch to get off of the bus, She told me she could make it to my house by twelve, So we could get it on, just amongst ourselves, She came to, I had a blunt to blow, After that, I'ma be ready to fuck this hoe, I ran up in it for an hour or so, Put her back in the bus and took a route to the store, Picked up some brew for the rest of my crew, And a couple of cigars for a blunt or two, Headed for the D.J. Way on Teledonna, Now this area was all about drama, Hoes was sweatin', I had my shades on, Ready to put the dick on any bitch that I played on, Now what's the haps with you and your clique? I don't think you want no more gangsta shit, Mo I can roll, I'm just a baller from the South, Ready to knock any muthafuckin' pussy out, I got bitches on the side wanna ride with nine, But don't understand the way that I kicks the style, But I'm a flexor, to riggedy-wrecks-a nigga from the Nolia, I'm goin' out everytime when I kick I'm like a solja, Niggas don't understand the way that I flow, The fliz-no is slow, so check this out bro [Chorus] [Second Verse:] I kicks the shit that make them niggas say "ooh", That'll make them hoes say "Yeah, that must be that nigga Juv", I'm from the, wild side of the city, What a pity, I'm wild, like a muthafuckin' crazed Frank Nitty, I'm not the old days nigga that's comin' with the gats, Nigga where you at? Nigga where you at? Nigga where you at? Give me a bag of powder, watch me twitch, I might go crazy and wanna kill in this bitch, I seen a lot of niggas talk shit about me, But don't know a muthafuckin' thing about me, So keep my name outta your mouth and you just might just don't see the glock, POP everytime I see your ass on my block, Shop close for the hoes, that used to think that Juv would trick, But bitch how you feel? Cuz you ain't got shit, Niggas wanna play these games and don't know, That I am the wickedest one you know bro, I'm just a nigga from off the side, So what's up? I'm bout to rock in the house, right? Microphone check one two, now what's the haps? It's time for me to put my neighborhood on the map, I'm from the neighborhood of the wild Magnolia, Home of the killas, the trillas, the soljas, Droppin' muthafuckas like an everyday habit, If I see your fine, sexy bitch, I'ma stab it, Comin' from my head, my skin tone is red, Ready to put the muthafuckin' black boy to bed, I ain't never was afraid of no war, Cuz where I come from, we snort powder and we roar [Chorus] [Third Verse:] I'm in the Nolia, lookin' for the Poppers, Took me a hit off the blunt, then I spot her, Hoe that I know, bout twenty years of age, A pepper-red bitch with extensions in her head, Now she was the type to put you in a plot ball, Her last old man done got his head knocked off, But fuck I want the pussy so let's see what she's about, She gave me the phone number and the address to her house, I passed by late, she stayed on South Mero, Walked in the door with my three eight zero, Popped on that ass, got her nothin', I was outty, Now she calls me sayin' how she feel about me, "Come back to me, Juvenile, I'm beggin' you please", "Won't you just come back to me, Juvenile, I'm beggin' you please", Now, if I was King, just imagine that shit, I'd have the Queen back smackin' that bitch, Now drop to your knees and kiss, and you tease, Of that, hell of a guy Mister J-U-V, I want riches, fuck bitches and them hoes, No better than a sweater, fella, cuz I won't let her, Hoe blow my head off, and take me off ground, Knowin' inside that a bitch could bring me down, Juvenile let a hoe trap me? That ain't the hamp, I'm on the map aiyyo I'm in the house, And I'm on the map G [Chorus]

Cadillac Pimpin'

Youngbloods
feat. cutty [chorus: cutty] i'm chillin, wood spinnin no bentley's, cadillac pimpin i'm cruisin, hoes choosin that's cool cuz i'm cadillac pimpin spoke spinnin, gold grillin liquor spillin, cadillac pimpin keep ridin, car slidin that's cool cuz i'm cadillac pimpin [j-bo] now as i grip and dive, i smoke on to keep a high in the sky, as i emphasize the right to reply with these words you under heard i swerve through a blur dodging these fuck niggaz who figure we outta splurge and if happen to have the nerve, see homeboy you made a choice for the crime you standing on and walking on is getting poise plus the cadillac's we pimpin so slightly you been slippin on really how it goes when these ties begin to grippin and shiftin and whole takin to the spot where hoes shakin i'm quakin, ridin on out - am gonna make it? and pimp fool like niggaz with gataz without no chaperone so see, we been doing this from way back long '92, aqua blue, on them thangs we roll with a cup full of liquor blowing good on swole so let's ride til we can't ride no damn more we cadillac pimpin hard see my nigga fa sho' [chorus] [sean paul] sure be white cadillac but i called it to go this your boy sean paul, baby tell 'em the truth so roll old fleetwood with the two door coup all platinum bill with the fifth wheel too and give truth to these suckas something overdue ride a 'lac like a true playa 'posed to do old school, slant back with a jigga too tan gold wit some bows like a poster boo old school, gold chain, still grippin the grain show a crease in my jeans, stay ahead of the game got a, piece on my grill, diamonds off in the back and got so many hoes had to change up my 'lac all day i don't know how to act got this game down pat, sure be running the track get some money from these hoes and see how they react show 'em how a real nigga come down like that [chorus] [sean paul] i got a 'lac with a rag, louie baton top diamond cut interior, 15's the knot i'ma be a last nigga from the atl y'all hell, feel eyes and the playa can sell when you see me in the street, holla at me playa my bitch got duke, e, rose and wine, boo as fine as hell through the strip'll never die, only time'll tell to be in, it's cadillac steerin wheel [j-bo] say what, gather round for this two door show we let the spillin go, rillin in the eldorado we rollin through the spot to see which hoes gon follow cuz we get cool and down passin rounds of bottle with a gloss so clean, i put this thing in throttle for we out and cruise in the wind like roscoe so you gonna know us when you see us when we ride on by slow cuz this shit'll never end through the eyes of my foes [chorus 2x]

Nathaniel

OUTKAST "Aquemini"
Shit man Nigga gotta go on the got down Get the shit straight when I got damn get out Well shit This what really goin down Whassup my nigga another day the same shit Punk-ass C.O.'s on a nigga dick Got me up at three o'clock cookin nappy grits I'm a G from C.P. I can't take the shit Tryin to hold a nigga down in this country ass town I'm used to smokin chronic movin pounds They got a nigga on some 'Sir, yessir, left right left' Throw me in a hole if my ass outta step They treat you like a motherfuckin slave Dopefiends, cryin Jesus, swear they saved Niggaz better get they game tight Cause these crackers tryin to take a nigga life and they rights I'm surrounded by fake-ass crooks They swear they kingpins but don't have money on they books I hear so many lies it make me sick These niggaz called ballers sellin dimes and licks I can't wait til the day they let me go So I can eat some steak and shrimp grab a mic, and bust a flow I'm Audi 5 nigga lights out Hold it down on the streets until the day that I get out I'm out man

Green Island

REDMAN "Dare Iz A Darkside"
Motherfuckin, ladies and gentleman My style's rugged like Timberland When I clock lyric then women give me more love than Wimbledon My style flow local like New Jersey transit And I can't stand it And you'll need Teddy to unjam it when I cram it I'm from N-to-the-E W-A-R-K, Newark NJ got the AK When I wave bitch you better say heeyyyyyyyy I'm a Kid From the Hall I got big balls to make your pussy walls dribble in my drawers Hey boy this is the way the East coast swing it so bring it Man I told you ass Brown-er than James with the Sex Machine shit I keep the chronic patrol on the road in case you're wondering why I keep my izm Cause I smoked everybody else's shit up My style's the ultimate funk when I mic checka One two checka And I give effects to niggaz with my Black and Decker So check the, manuscript, man you flipped Put it down if you can't handle it Got a B-R-C-G, Blunt Rollers College Graduate I got a degrees in Physics on how high I can get Then next I check how many niggaz that can die from my Tec Cause the N-E-W-A-R-K is where the niggaz robbin and stealin and fuckin niggaz everyday Now Jersey's on max so pass the dutchie on the lefthand side Hide the hidash, in case we cridash, in my ride So, sliiiide, before I call the medics You can bet bitch you couldn't get fly if you were FedEx Can I, drop the funk on ya, run it on ya Strong as ammonia, smell it from here to California Cause Reggie Noble dropped that cock named Noble at Sunoco I'm better than rice and beans when I rock you ocho to ocho My music more underground than a kid at 300 XL Convertible, fuel-injected, that's why my style's well-respected I'm dope on the ridealz, so fidealz, on my didealz And chumps are wondering what two niggaz dropped the funk funk Verbally you never heard of me I smoke you third degrees and cause surgery for emergency cause Reggie Noble's known like burglary I get hot busted when I dip my nuggets Hey, if it take a million niggaz to stop it just like Chuck did Cause we run around Newark with the nine cock Keep it heated for the brothers that's not off my block And if ya don't know the flavor, be a tough guy and enter So go show you more nigga events than Jacob Jaffrey center I'm genuine, to the rhyme, get your canines Cops that got the hot glock stocked for when it's playtime I rock around the Robin TWEET TWEET on the calendar Cause you couldn't pull my number if your class major was Algebra I make bitches moan to my Stallone without Sylvester Cause I'm more deadlier than a whole school system of investors So check us, I always smoke mad blunts before breakfast Cause I, Get Around like 2Pac with Poetic in my Justic Hold tight, hold tight, everybody hold tight I'm sooper like my man cat, cause I keep my styles jam packed I wrreerawwwowww like Anthrax, split my pants like Bill Bixby You could tell the tracks was fat from the work of my MP-60 I smoke the chronic that's why my sinus always fucked up Them bones, them bones, them bones will have you fucked up I blaze blunts with my nigga Mellow, yo say hello (Yo whattup dogg) Really, now pass the second blunt to Quilly Now sit your big ass down cuz I don't know about this rap stuff There wasn't rap when I was pickin cotton, sayin massa Y'all y'all whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards Man, y'all fuck around with Quilly I kick a bone out yo' ass quick Watch out now, I ain't bullshittin I representin the oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-G's from forty-three goddamnit And if you keep on with that dirty mistreatin I'm gonna whoop your ass, til your heart stop beating And yo, chronic bubonic the funky bionic you find it I'll have to rewind it where minds are blinded Time 4 Sum Aksion so time to find it I smoked out like a cookout, look out my dick's out That was last album when I was bouncin on trains like Malcolm I was hiiiiigh, I thought I wouldn't survive That's why I quit my nine to five and got live Because this hip-to-the-hop shit fills my pockets And I'm Audi for ninety-four because I already got my props Hoes, hoes, and more hoes...

Rework The Angles (Feat. A.g., Defari & Xzibit)

DILATED PEOPLES
[A.G.] Check it out now I work the angles like, off the cushion in the sidepocket Electrifying like a live socket Hit em with all flavors, yup We tryin to be neighbords with pro-ballplayers, I'm talkin papers or keep it realer, and see me on a Iron Caterpillar On point like a killer, plus ready, to deliver type gifted, treat the mic right, or I might rip it Critics dig my style cause I write different, no hype I just kick it, low-lifes, they wanna get it I shine like the ice when I hold mics, everytime got every dime, sayin this nigga so nice, you know what? They so right, you get stuck, I'll go twice Lit it up when I blow mics [Evidence] Show mic precise, require sacrifice That's no hassle, the master got more loops than lassos Y'all hear me? They all conspiracy theories Worthless, like testing Ev' defeats the purpose Since the beginning, intrigued by pot and attentive women Breakbeats and windmills on concrete covered by cardboard, seafloor to skyline Bottom line, in rhyme yo, put in time you shine That's right sometimes I get so hyped I feel like Diamond D the best producer on the mic I aced this -- most punchlines are tasteless Regular, average, mediocre, makeshift To all my DJ's, with skills you got a lotta This ain't on your mixtape, yo it coulda been hotta The method in this game they'll have you drained and strangles Don't go to them, let em come to you, and work the angles [Defari] Don't sleep on, I leave your knee torn, like Sehorn Liquid MC storm, like children of the corn, a wild freeform of energy, mentally fit to last a century Like centuries, one double-zero translate to victories You kiddin me me? Come wack that's not my history Kidnap the wack and break his ankles, remember +Misery+? Lyrically you're skatin out of control Work the angles 'round the globe, from Newark to South Pole It's so cold that MC's catch pneumonia I'm airborne, from L.A. to Barcelona I rock heads from Pomona out the Bronx Drop the sure needle contact, now watch me launch DJ's, you jugglin, that means I'm bubblin Defari on the remix fix, this shit is thunderin Picture me fumblin or droppin the ball That's like picturin Guy without that nigga Aaron Hall [Iriscience] Well if a brother gets the best of me Ain't no use in sniveling and blaming the referee Fuck that, I strip the mic with tenacous D Kick it up to Evidence, yo kick it out to me! Line up the three, trifecta stroked properly Rocca, I work the angles triple opticly The hip-hop multi-beat real monopoly My G is God, what's your G for, geometry? This man of war beats cold on the seashore An deeo enough to take it to the sea floor Every single beat bangs like a C-4 We drop beats, why you asking what the beat for? The Spitfire fighter Dilated entity I'm learning shockers like Shockra building energy While barbershops sipping Henny like the Kennedy's I'm always been independent, that's word to Beni B It's guaranteed [Xzibit] Make T-shirts and slingshots, I bust khakis out, bounce to the weed spot Naturally, me and my faculty never play with this I Used to Love H.E.R. too, but now I fucking hate the bitch She's sucking up to all the niggas with the chains and whips But that's alright, because all she do for me is pay the rent And keep it moving, got a bad habit of losing my cool Acting a fool, breaking out tools, and making the whole corwd move Towards the exit, this be the next shit, we got you Dilated Hotter than Satan, the repeated parole violations Xzibit work the angles, cordless to dirty angels How the West was Won: with microphones and turntables

T.i. Vs. T.i.p.

T.I. "Trap Muzik"
[Rap Verse: T.I. + (T.I.P. alter ego)] I wanna talk to you shawty (Why) 'Cause you be trippin' sometimes (Man I'm just trying stay true to what I say in my rhymes) It ain't a doubt in my mind, but you got a lot on the line You need to think 'bout yo' actions (Why) You be overreactin' (Maaaan) Look at Cap and K.T. listen to K.P. (What about 'em; where the fuck this shit come from) Or to a J.G. to your mama or D.P Or somebody shawty shit you be makin' me sick (Nigga fuck you!) You'd be a motherfuckin' fool if you blow this lick (Alright alright) This the chance of a lifetime, you know this shit Remember what Jarmel told us 'stay focused Tip' (I remember nigga) (Man but they be tryin' me shawty) Niggaz be tryin' you how Ay let them tell it, you was just another guy in the crowd (Naw, but they be talkin' too loud) Man you be listenin' too hard Just pay these niggaz no attention and keep fuckin' they broads (Alright) I know you harder than these niggaz (Yeah) and smarter than these niggaz (Yeah) More heart than these niggaz (Yeah) Quit worryin' 'bout thses niggaz (Ay man fuck these niggaz I'm from Bankhead and I don't know where you stayed at) (But talkin' sideways behind my back, I never played that) (Since you become a payed cat T.I. you been so layed back) (I wonder where lil' bad ass Tip from back in the day at) Man that nigga had to stay back there so we could be that Nigga on TV and FYI we got the P back Hold up shawty freeze Jack (What) 'Lame' I'll never be that (Yeah OK) Changed my name a thousand times and still a G believe that (Oh yeah good we go Ki's) (That nigga from overseas back) You see what I be sayin' 'bout this nigga (What man Shit) I don't believe that You ain't listenin' is ya You got issues I got kids, 2 boys a lil' girl (Ay I know nigga they my kids too) You know it's one false move and it's back to the big house The judge told our ass 'one more time' and we ain't gettin' out (I wouldn't say that) Be thinkin' 'bout standin' outside in the sunshine (Ho) Watchin' nigga's heads get buck for cuttin' the lunchline Ay shawty you ain't 'posed to make the same mistake more than one time (And I ain't made the same mistake twice since uh '99) Please, boy stop don't get me started folk it's not the time And let's just do this shit my way get paid and have a lot of time Plenty fine bitches, who gon' pull shawty you is (Man you know Tip got the hoes) And Tip hoes got gold teeth (What that mean What you tryna say nigga) Mine got jobs, good credit and they own features (And mine boost clothes, sell 'dro, got the blow cheap) (I guess it's just depend on what ya like folk) That's right folk (And I was just kiddin' 'bout them kites folk) Heh, alright folk (I'm really glad we had a chance to sit it down and rap a tad) (I admit you had a couple points, sometimes I act a ass) Ay but it is so important to keep it real though just like ya said No record deal, no amount of mil' shall go to my head (And with that said can't nobody tell us shit, so fuck the hatin') How many niggaz real enough to stand and give theyself a straightenin'

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