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JUVENILE lyrics - Cocky & Confident

Gotta Get It

Original and similar lyrics
[Talking:] Yall Niggas think broke look cool man Gotta get it nigga, gotta gotta get it Gotta get it, gotta gotta get it nigga [Talking:] I gotta get it when you see me out chea or where ever the fuck I'm at I'm tryna get sum money homie, yea gotta feed the family nigga nephew Ahhhhh! I am magnolia official I played the ave for years, they talkin bout me like when shaq went to the caveliers, I keep the semi wit me jus call me prince of keys selling tabbacco and aint none of my shit is niccotine, a dog gettin it how much can a gorrilla make, I'm tryna chill dont wanna have to put on ma killa face, I get what ever I wanna boy I dont wish I would, when I come out look I be sharper den a sticker would I wish a nigga would I make a nigga bleed, I cut a nigga like get down its worth a lick of cheese, I lay somebody down I proly have ta do or die, wont nuthin change ima stay gutta like a sewer line, yup its manurea time busniess is picking up, when niggas find out I'm da man dey probably shit a truck no I aint new to dis money shit boi I been a fool I blow dis mutherfucker up jus like an intertube [Chorus:] Gotta get it nigga, gotta gotta get it Gotta get it, gotta get it nigga [Talking:] ya nigga, you see me wilden gettin mines, bein broke Aint cool man, you niggas think broke lookin cool, yea yea, Imma have fun why I do me homie, watch dis! I gotta get it so people get on yo day jobs, aint nothin crowded but The jail houses and grave yards, I'm on the corner in the ghetto like a pay phone, I call my baby like daddy be on the way home, talk to you later its easy to getcha cell tapped, and I got powder like a factory full of jail caps, I'm ballin in the game boi I need a pair of tugs, I'm walking on em in my slippers like a pair of lugs, I'm not gone ever leave the way thats what the preacher said, like ima be on the corner at Morgan Freeman age, I'm in the streets making connection in the resturaunts I'm eatin tacos and fajitas with the mexicans, boi I define the definition of what livin is, and any where you see me out thats what thanksgivin is, you niggas counterfit pappas I am a real daddy, shoot up the mutherfuckin world to get the kids happy. [Chorus:] Gotta get it nigga, gotta gotta get it, Gotta get it, gotta get it nigga [Talking:] ha ha! watch me get it, watch me get it, watch me get it, Bricks in the mornin nigga wit the cheese in ma shit, Bosseline style, watch me, paraflex you broke ass niggas I gotta get it boi you beefin over petty change, I'm ready man I got Ma fingers in on errythang, I'm on nem dana danes puffin on dat mary jane look I'ma leader its one of us up in erry game, and yea I'm fly cuz I always got that egle on me, I pop a nigga look how quick they call the people on me, this is an act and not in it to recieve a tony, I'm over here with all the cheese and ion see baloney, give a bitch what? I be talking mad to em, dey say I'm shitty like a kid done Gone to bathroom, I'm in a yellow chevy thang with the doors up, Im smoken purple these ashes burnin ma clothes up, see da conarys In the grill yea I talk major look in the light its like a saturday Night in las vegas, yupp ima boss playa cuz I say I iz, I chase dis money 24 cuz everyday I iz. [Chorus:] Gotta get it nigga, gotta gotta get it Gotta get it, gotta get it nigga [Talking:] cocky&confident in stores haha! september tha 28 nigga, nigga.

Let's Ride

featuring Thorough [Chorus x2] Down South we like to Get it Crunk! Get it Crunk! Get Drunk as a skunk and Get it Crunk! Get it Crunk! Every Man and Woman Get it Crunk! Get it Crunk! Big Ball and G we Get it Crunk! Get it Crunk! [Eightball] Calling all pimps and players We need to unite and get with other player fakers Hardcore and ain't nothing gone stop that When it hit the streets real niggas cop that Down south pimp shit nigga you know Who got flow in the cocaine benzo Preimro yeah fat mack that's me Chunky with nuts and chocolate like hershey Punk tricks wanna flex but the truth is Spage age pimpin pay the motherfuckin bills You wanna ride with the Suave House don't ya? You wann fuck with them hoes who don't even want ya Check my cup everytime it's full of hen dog check my chick everytime she a ten dog Take it how you wann take while I break it down Orange Mound nigga this is how we clown [Chorus x2] [MJG] Alright you show you got some yak in back let me check it. anybody scared to get down gone get neglected Champagne drinking ass niggas gone try to check it real niggas drink it or not just gone just respected any bitch who make big money gone get selected but all hoes who got big mouths gone get ejected take yo ass back to the spot you rested I don't a fuck cause you fine and big breastsed or your brother crazy they say cause he been tested or way back when you was a child you got molested we still getting crunk you know it that's why I stress don't you see theat ring in your face it time to bless it but bitches wanna ride my wood and try to peck it crash all into my game and try to wreck it my game to dame deep trick you can't expect it MJG from Memphis to Houston, Texas [Chorus X2] [Thorough] It's time to come fresh on these niggas cause I'm a blessed nigga Suave House nigga who want the plex nigga Nobody, move parties for a hobby Then lobby with the hotties and kick the lottie dottie you got me I'm a hard rapping cat southern mack born and bread With lyrics that would leave most dead, I'm so close to the edge That I could jump pop the trunk Shoot the pump BOOM and give these niggas what they want Hits for hardcore and soft asses Hoopties to e-classes cups and blunt ashes I'm mashsin Down the track doin all the high hats Bustin at the bass line where the treble at? Fuck with that Live at the show I make em clap And say go Thorough when they see me rap in fact I got the knack to make the whole place bump grab a drank and don't thank as we commence to get it crunk [Chorus X2]

We Ride

[R.] Uh huh, hey, I remember when I back in the days When I ain't hot shit But now that I got shit Niggas wanna keep up shit But it's all good, watch me do this shit [Cam'Rom] Yo, yo, yo, yo, ay yo, from my town to Chitown R. Kelly got some thugs to make you lock down Voice cry hot sounds tied down cop twisters Shop lifters with Benini schemes Smoke greenie green candyman up in cabrini green Some cats I know like to splurge on they wrists But my man karate man cut the nerves out his fist But yo, throw your hands up y'all it's just love in here It ain't shit but a thug affair I'm at the bar spendin' thug money Cop so much huh, they say I love money carats like bugs bunny So lets slide you got the right thong Dju don't know, I'm all night long The DJ playing all the right songs To the BM, REM's are Muy bien It's R. Kelly, killer Cam' Baby girl, can you dig now Next time we see him yo, we laying Mr. Biggs down [1] - To all my players and my thugs To all my honeys in the club To all the hoods that show me love We ride, we ride (From Chitown to LA) To all my ballers lockin' ice, getting a room for the night Taking first class flights, we ride, we ride (From Chitown to LA) [Noreaga] Yo, I used to be in Chitown and collect panties When I make cabrini green you know I hit Sammy's Thugged out yo, all my people givin' eye jammies Now them shorties say I'm cute, when they can't stand me R. Kelly yo, I'm right from the belly, you know the soul Everything that we spit on is platinum gold But now it's for the love, for all the players and the thugs Yo, it's a party goin' on, meet me right at the club We got some chickens in the living room getting it on And they ain't leaving 'till six in the morning Thugged out, my people gettin' head while we on and Tear the club up every time we performin' Gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place Because this shorty right here, lookin' good in my face Ay yo, it's so deep I told shorty just last week Uh huh, it's like, you remind me of my jeep [Repeat 1] [Vegas Cats] Only ballers be allowed up in here Money makers got my thug niggas watchin' my rear for player haters Eighteen and I'm livin' a dream, go figure How a nigga that's younger than you, ice bigger Don't sweat that, stick to rap nigga, try that Call my nigga R. Kell if you need a hit, black And when you get it, make it known baby, who did it It'll make your fans hit the stores and go get it Now, here come a bitter sweet note for the fellas Left out the club with her friend, now she jealous Mad cuz she can't ride in the LS Yeah, she kinda mad but a baller could care less While you sleep, sleep, sleep I'm inna Benz going beep, beep, beep Got your girl sayin' Yo, who he So let's ride to Rockland's party, uh huh [Jay-Z] Check, Ghetto pro' federal Jay-Z shake the dice, let 'em go Bet a load I tear down every show Better know cheddar crowed like the front babe row Says R., Jay y'all, all I need is four bars I'm hotter than a lotta men Switch up cars like Rodman's hair color, then hit your broad I'm borderline too much for the mortal mind Every time you ought to rewind, find there's more to find Now pop that cork, then pour the wine Represent New York to Chitown, like what Floss mine, like of course my, what Never cross my family, can we all get along Hell no I'm tryin' to tell y'all who dat is that rule that biz Not your baby daddy but Jay-Z, true that is Better school that kid on who's shoes that is Or who I be nigga, V.I.P Jigga [Repeat 1] [R.] Let's get together and make this loot (Trackmasters, Rockland) Make this loot (Untertainment) Come on players (Thugged out) Come on players (And we out like that) Rock-a-fella ya'll

Only Time Will Tell

MASTER P "Ghetto D"
[Master P] (Only time will tell nigga when we die go to heaven or hell nigga)(4X) When i die nigga don't wanna go to hell though I been out here hustling trying to get dough Got da game in my vein won't change little homies on the street know my name its the M-A-S to tha R-P A young nigga tryin live in these ghetto streets would I die, would I roll, would i retire young, would a nigga get paid be the out come its strictly for the G's so a nigga ball thankin mama goddamn don't let your baby fall i'm out here tryin to make me a little change stuck in this muthafuckin dope game would i lose tryin to keep my fuckin shoes would a young nigga see P on the news I done seen rappers get their fuckin cap peeled say its mafia damn what a bad deal so the game get hectic so i wanna cheat grab my gat kill off my enemies I'd do fair time nigga but fuck that I'd rather sleep, split a wig with my crome gat cuz I ain't goin less I take two niggas wit me niggas want P they better come and get me I ain't hard to find it ain't a rhyme its gonna either be your soul or mine (Only time will tell nigga when we die go to heaven or hell nigga)(4X) Niggas Die to make covers of magazines I'd rather be unknown then dead and famous with green The black hearse roll through da ghetto streets I made the sign of da cross, glad it ain't me Not fearing death, just not ready yet two stones to my brother, may his soul rest retaliation is a must fool (huh) some niggas don't play by no fucking rules in this game get so deep so we gotta ride Mama don't trip, don't even cry when its my time to go then I gotta leave but while I'm here I'm gonna drink henicy and smoke weed is there a heaven for a gansta niggas callin trying figure out if they up there ballin My young niggas getting paid left da earth goddamn six feet now he's in da dirt church bells rangin hoes sangin my nigga's up there for gang bangin slangin dope, pushin cocalies got me stressin down on my knees its a risky life wit a fast pace but where soliders go when they get took away (Only time will tell nigga when we die go to heaven or hell nigga)(4X) [Sons of Funk] I seen angels crying so many soldiers dying Tell me when will it end will I get to heaven will I see my friends or will i go to hell only time will tell [Mac] Head first in this world with my eyes impeel unaware that these niggaz on tha streets is real will i survive or will the cold streets shake me will them niggas break me before the lord take me out this son of a bitch I never want it never asked to come trapped in a double face not a place to run get the gun and buck it let'em know I ain't the one to fuck wit I stuck with this rough shit screaming tell god to make space them niggas killed my ace and now they tryin make waste of my face but I'm strapped up and only fifteen full of hatred i couldn't be the next rapper faced with waste cemetary gates all black suits and limos family tears and flowers no more shows and videos after parties hoes come to a cease young thug caught one slug rest in peace (Ughhhhh) (Only time will tell nigga when we die go to heaven or hell nigga)

Shot Off

Eightball "Living Legends"
(feat. Ludacris) [Intro: Eightball] He he he, yeeah [Verse 1: Eightball] What kind of nigga always run his mouth like a hoe Like his jaw got a battery, this nigga always know Who got robbed, got shot, who got put on lock Nobody invited you and still you got up in the spot Me, I'm not a witness, keep my distance, mind my business You, somebody talk, you in they mouth like a dentist We keep it gangsta, mommas love it cause they know it's real Like UGK, 'we keeps it real' mobbin' through the field Big Ball, Fatboy, unload heat when my brain spill You for it, images without no coke connect pills We keep it crunk and poppin' real niggaz know the deal We Bad Boys, anywhere we at we smoke and kill You try to stop it, get yo' shit broke up in twenty pieces We roll deep in brand new vehicles wit secret features Game preachers move yo' pimpin' for you mamasitas We players on the field, y'all niggaz in them bleachers [Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 2X)] You talkin' down behind my back (uh) you done shot off nigga Fifty, four or twenty sack, you done shot off nigga If you fly and got a gun (uh) when the drama come, you run (uh) You know what you just done, you done shot off nigga [Verse 2: MJG] Man, come on now, you done shot off just like Mike Davis lost a knockoff Or his tight-ass shirt when the button pop off You standin' it's snowin' you got yo' shoes and socks on Who holds the key No fucking bout it, I broke the lock off I grew the top off, took the comma, period, dot off And ran on wit it and broke you a whole lot off I'm gettin' hot and startin' to boil, don't turn the pot off You just affected wit it, pimpin' yo, get yo' rocks off Release some pressure, stop all that cryin' and wipe ya snot off Excuses you be usin' for losin' it's cheap as hot sauce Earn yo' position, stop hatin' beacuse you not boss M-J-G, pimp tight, I'm movin' yo' spot off And I don't reach, stoppin' yo' plans, fucking yo' plot off I go hard and I don't sheave and I'm not off And livin' on the edge rebellin' I'm never dropped off Like Aaron Hall, 'Don't Be Afraid' bitch, call the cops off [Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 2X)] [Verse 3: Ludacris] Now you can either check yo' ego at the do' (door) or let the drama unfold And check my Rap Sheet, BITCH, I'm almost ten million sold I'm only rappin' cause I want to, I got enough plaques Needless to say, my favorite rappers told me to get on this track And so I DID it, quickly wrote my sixteen down and SPIT it By the end of the verse you'll say, 'once again, Ludacris SHIT it' Then I'll wipe this wit yo' face and put yo' pride in the trash My whole career is like my video, I'm showin' my ass I keeps it, 'gangsta, gangsta!' shooters and shanksters Until you shot off motherfuckers, I'm a 'thank ya, thank ya!' Runnin' yo' mouth behind my back until you run out of time But at least yo' talkin' let's me know some millions stay on yo' mind It ain't nothin' wrong wit that Tell em grabbin' the thang and then I put it to yo' brain And change everything you ever hope fo' (for) wit the .44 You'll be fallin' back And Yacht - is what I'm drinkin' steady thinkin' bout these pinks chasin' I'm bout to bring home the bacon [Chorus: Eightball - (Repeat 4X)]

All Out

2PAC "Until The End Of Time (Disc One)"
(feat. Outlawz) [hellicopter propeller turning] [Kastro & Napoleon] We goin all out (aiiiite) We goin all out (aiiiite) We goin all out, watch ya motherfuckin mouth niggaz (That's right, fuck these fag niggaz) Do it, do it, do it [2Pac] Come hell or high water, down to slaughter opposers Just another lost soul, stuck, callin Jehovah Outlaw 'til it's over, brand as my strap Back like a cobra, I stay drunk, cause I'm a mad man Whenever sober, on a one man mission My ambition to hold up the rap game While I pluck holes in niggaz like donuts And still down to die for all my souljas Like hillbillies, they don't fear me So refuse bringin war to the city With each breath, death before dishonor Never let you swallow me, no apologies, your honor A general in war, I'm the first to bomb With a squad of trusted killers, quick to move shit heavily armed I'm similar to Saddam, sometimes I question Hussein Like fiends frantic for that last vein, stuck in the game I hit the scene like sandstorms, then transform, watch me I take the figure of dirty niggaz, who all got me While bitches wonderin who shot me No love, keep a grudge, shootin sluggs like Muammar Quadaffi Murder my friends, build a new posse We takin shots at paparazzi, go and fly now, nigga like Rocky You got a lot of nerve to play me Another gay rapper, bustin caps to Jay-Z (buck buck buck buck buck buck) And still avoid capture, while y'all caught up in the rapture Still after me, I'm in Jamacia sippin daquiris, no doubt We used to havin nothin, then grabbin somethin and bustin Wanted to be the thug-nigga, that my old man wasn't I came to a field, catchin cases, litigation Niggaz playa-hatin, got me crooked in all 50 states I'm screamin DEATH ROW, throw my WESTSIDE, ain't no thang We was raised off drive-by's, brought up to bang We claim mob, M.O.B. if you be specific We control all cash from Atlantic-Pacific And get this, I'm hard to kill, when I peel with this live spot Father, how the hell did I survive, these five shots Live it up, of give it up, and my demons Late night, hear them screamin; we goin all out! [Chorus: EDI] We goin all out, bomb first till they fall out Take them the war route, without a doubt Ball, which means we all ride if it's on Each nigga handle ya own, bring it on strong If you got bills to pay, nigga go all out Bustas playin with ya peeps, betta go all out Try'na see the next day, nigga go all out Obstacles in ya way, you better go all out [Napoleon] I'm on my land sled, walkin through the belly of the beats Feelin like I'm all out, drunk as can be It's plain to see, that we mobb niggaz hidin' in bushes Claimin that they ride rough, but they soft as they cushion They softer than bitches in the worst way, drownin in blood Outlawz my blood brothers, I'd die for these thuggs Say hi to this slug, it's a shame how some niggaz on the west coast was ridin with Pac, but when he died, they went pop I'm on the Jers to the fullest, like some west coast love But after Pac stopped rappin, it ain't no west coast thug Just westcoast what To my real niggaz stuck in the street game Cause rappers like Jay-Z be pumpin Kool-Aid through they veins Is it true what I'm sayin Slap your soft ass to the floor And watch my fo-fo put peek holes through your door I ride or die, but these other fag niggaz be bitin this It's all from my heart when I was writin this All out [chorus] [Kastro] Now, we all ride, and down to die who wit us Speak up, or get treated like you comin to kill us Ain't nothin but squealers, in this rap game, swearin they rough Tattooed up, and now them niggaz swearin they Pac Stop that, and watch ya back, we ain't forgot bout cha These glocks hot, and when shot, it'll bring the bitch up out cha It's me, Kastro with the goattee Walkin' like a OG, cause all these fag motherfuckers owe me I pray to the thug lord, like that motherfuckers holy Frontline soulja, till the heavens call me I go all out, and if you real, you real Feel what I'm talkin' bout, cause this game is ill I live it, forbidden fruit, shoot, 'till they feel it Livin' proof, Pac breed niggaz, they can't deal wit' Holla back, right back, and watch ya mouth Or get blood in it, WHAT, we goin' all out Nigga [chorus - 2X] fool, you better go all out keep goin' all out all my niggaz goin' all out without a muthafuckin' doubt [EDI talking] Ey, you niggaz just gon think that you gon be uhh talkin and slippin on all of these motherfuckin records and we ain't gon say shit, now it's 1999 It's a different grind, don't disrespect the Don It's still war motherfuckers So let's see you act like you know

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