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JUVENILE lyrics - Reality Check

Get Ya Hustle On

Original and similar lyrics
[Juvenile] That's right, it's crunch time now fellas No time to be cryin for momma now, it's the movement C'mon To all my people on them corners I consider as dogs I wish I could break a package down and send it to y'all I know ya feelin me behind them penitentiary walls Put me on the visit list and I'll be in to see y'all Talk to 'em - your mayor ain't your friend, he's the enemy Just to get your vote, a saint is what he pretend to be Fuck him! Ah-listen to me, I got the remedy Save your money up and find out who got 'em for 10 a ki' Bubble, if you don't hustle don't use your energy Cause you gon' be a cellmate or wind up as a memory Yeah, and I could give a fuck if you kin to me My life is up and down and side to side like a centipede [Chorus] Get ya hustle on, nigga get ya hustle on [4X] We take the Pyrex and then we rock with it, roll with it Take the Pyrex and then we rock with it, roll with it! We take the Pyrex and then we rock with it, roll with it Take the Pyrex and then we rock with it, roll with it! [Juvenile] The loamin hard sparkle like glass Main bitch right behind me lookin sharp in the Jag Security say you don't know me so I talk to 'em bad If a nigga want somethin I got somethin for his ass Choppers - I'm already knowin that it's a G thang Ever since they tried to drown a nigga on the eastbank Everybody need a check from FEMA So he can go and sco' him some co-ca-llina Get money! And I ain't gotta ball in the Beemer Man I'm tryin to live, I lost it all in Katrina (damn) And nobody cares what the police thank Everybody fuckin with ki's cause it's a street thang [Chorus] [Juvenile] Wodie! You really feelin your folks Just them crackers behind them desk-es that ain't hearin us though We starvin! We livin like Haiti without no government Niggaz killin niggaz and them bitches is lovin it Fuck Fox News! I don't listen to y'all ass Couldn't get a nigga off the roof with a star pass Talkin - y'all comfortable right now to your own land 'Til a nigga catch ya down bad, starvin and want cash Get your mind right, nigga get your money up You're movin a little somethin, but you ain't done enough Fo' shizzle - you know the boss gonna want a cut Yeahhhhhh - or the boss gon' haveta fuck you up [Chorus - repeat 2X]

Niggas Ain't Shit

TRINA "Da Baddest Bitch"
(feat. Lois Lane) [Chorus: repeat 2X] Niggas ain't shit, but hoes and tricks Lick tha pearl tongue nigga keep tha dick Get tha fuck out after I cum So I can hop in my Coup and make a quick run [Trina] See, me and my boo's we got grands to use With terrible attitudes nigga, who needs you Huh, you got your dirty ass feet on my couch and smokin motherfuckin weed in my house Is you sick yo I want YOU to get him and your dogs, to stop grabbin doornobs, and hustle and rob or job, get tha fuck out of dodge (you heard that) You eat me this evenin, you don't even deserve that cause I'm a bank roll havin bitch Mercedes Benz 6- double o havin bitch, I'm fabulous and immaculate with nice curves I game hers for the furs, and the Iceberg You got nerves, old broke ass, not havin no doe ass slow ass, stayin on my porch ass, yo yay your ass nigga you fake bitch, you make women hate dick, cuz you ain't shit [Chorus] [Lois Lane] You that same old nigga with tha same low figures 'cept the lies gettin bigga and the sex lacks the vigor Got used to the quickies, now your ass is just wack tryin to fuck my girl, behind my back, imajin that I told her go ahead and try it just for the laughter now whe're feelin bad for all tha hoes you're goin after Looks can be deceivin, and you're poppin much game Crib in your moms name, claim of fortune and fame Dressed in ICEBERG, senese still attached Rockin a gator, fake rolly, hollow links to match I sit back and watch, as you dig yourself deeper Digits all in your beeper, you want her, better keep her Last night you was all up in the club, slingin grips Slippin DJ Roslay, givin dick tips away Basically, you was holdin like you just went pro but little did they know, you was flossin my doe No, I got to go, before you cause a bitch to flick from waistline to the bottom, you know niggas ain't shit [Chorus] [Trina] You ain't shit to me yo I'm spendin grands down in Rio Manaje' in trio, garage like it cee-lo 4-5-6, Range Rov, 4.6 we lay low while ya'll hoes slob dick, you back in ballin ass Niggas ain't shit, taste the clit and y'all pussy lickin and shit wanna go low on me like a basement That's why I don't see none of y'all You better reconize bitch, while I sit in front of y'all I don't owe you shit, nigga you owe me I'm bout to change the locks, nigga keep the gold key You better get your shit, take it to your mamy house I'm bout to show you what a bitch from Miami bout You got me fucked up, nigga ain't no free nut Unless you comin VVS marquis cut [Chorus (repeat til end)]

Watch Yo Back

TRINA "Da Baddest Bitch"
(feat. Twista) [Chorus - Twista] better watch yo back there boy get on yo square or my gun'll beat your chain got the nigga figured out showin you off tellin shit aint the same go ahead and kick him out cut him up catch him sleepin fuck him up only he must not know your name pimpin is a deadly game [repeat Chorus] [Trina] oh nigga you mad now actin bad pullin out your gat its not all you care about its cash so my feelings they asked out and its so sad how I do fo you be da woman come through fo you when you do wrong police come through fo you i even break the truth fo you but the fact of the matter is nigga you gon' love who you gon' love you gon' trust who you gon' trust you gon' fuck who you gon' fuck but you wont trust me, no way no how ya gotta give ya whole life fo a nigga nowadays cant be in yo house cant even speak yo mouth cant even beat him down why the fuck is this so crazy, derranged that im into your thang brings misery and pain plus they call us lame bitches and heiffers and sluts think your nut is gonna heal my bruises and battles and cuts bitch y'all better get tough and at the same time y'all better lock the game and re-rock the game get a glock ready sit back cock and aim and try and stop the pain cuz ya got alot to gain instead of sittin home waitin on niggas to call puttin 911 in their beepers and all we dont deserve this at all y'all [Chorus - 2X] [Trina] nigga how you tame a bitch talkin bout your game legit when you aint the shit then get wit a chick dont maintain a bitch you restrain a bitch insecure niggas they blame a bitch then reign a bitch get a ring try to rename a bitch get an attitude play games with the dick and try to tame a bitch y'all niggas better critically acclaim a bitch you call we come take it like a champ drink all your cum do a lot of shit ive never done so i keep my cool cuz i aint the one to start actin up cuz he even beat us from backin up i wanna pack my stuff but mama said i cant come back to her oh lord so I had keep askin ya for help outta situations killin up my whole life I'm in love with a thug and he aint treatin my soul right and i know i dont see him uh dont need him shit fuck him and feed him fish stuck him and leave him quick shit... [Chorus - 2X] [Trina] if you're a nigga with no love and dont want no bitch Dont see no bitch dont need no bitch then dont tease no bitch shit cuz we dont need to be fucked up mentally like a dumb ho breakin out all your windows tell the po-po's bout your do-po's oh no I can get my own shit my own nigga my own dick I dont need a nigga thinkin that he own a bitch cuz he bought me shit 7 whole days aint call a bitch shit nigga shoulda stayed right where he was at cuz the nigga layed right where he was at the nigga shoulda died right where he was at better watch yo back [Chorus - 3X]

Chicken Hawk Ii

MACK 10 "Based On A True Story (Explicit)"
Chicken Hawk II Talking: The record you about to hear is basically true. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. (You a cold nigga) Some breathe gangsta shit, we dream of gangsta shit (Repeat) Verse 1 I hit licks nigga lead the hood in strong arm 'bout to get more chickens than Foster Farms Now give it up or die this a mothafuckin' jack hustlas guard yo sack the chicken hawk is back Impatiently waiting out of hunger my instinct to kill got stronger my wingspan's longer my guns loaded up and before you know what hit you I jump off the wire swoop and then I get you And fuck a tussle bitch cause all I do is shoot put lead in ya dome take ya sack and ya loot With a foe foe (.44) revolver so my strap ain't a jammer I want pure Peruvian no cuttin' Arm Hammer Gotta take what I need that's how the ball bounces now decide if you go die over thirty six ounces Before I go make sure no cameras in the vents pull a feather from my tail and dust off my claw prints Nigga Chorus You knew that I was dangerous when ya took it Look the Chicken Hawk two is after you (Repeat) In search of super chicken (Have you seen him?) (Repeat 4X) Verse 2 Yo girl gave me the cock but now she holla rape So I take her to my nest and wrap her with the duct tape Pull my heat out squeeze and make these Teflons melt her and watch blood drip all down the walls like Heltah Skeltah Take flight over the woods to drop the body and hit a lake to rinse off 'cause my feathers all spotty I stalk once again caught my prey by surprise look in his eyes if he lies he dies before sunrise Where the work at fool the jack is on you feel the wrath of the chrome kick in or get your noodles blown So hurry the fuck up nigga take me to the safe It ain't no time to waste with this Magnum in ya face Make one false move I swear the gunshots rang out first I'ma kill you then I'ma blow ya bitch brains out A hawks technicality is pecking for his salary so keep the dope whoopin' while the Hawk'll keep swoopin' Chorus Mack Dime and that's one to grow on mothafuckas.

Letter To My Daughters

UNCLE KRACKER "No Stranger To Shame"
I'm sending this letter I'll mail it today There's so many things I've been wanting to say Your mom sent some pictures And my how you've grown Rock n roll fathers are never at home I'm writing this letter I made you a song I promised your mom that I'd write while I'm gone You say daddy come home Well you'll just have to wait I hope when I get there that it won't be too late Skylar I just missed your first step today I have no excuses and nothing to say I live on a bus with a rock n roll band I hope when your older that you'll understand I'm coming home soon This tour's almost through I promise I'll try to spend more time with you You say daddy come home You'll just have to wait I hope when I get there that it won't be too late Now Madison Blue you know I love you too Not a single day passes that I don't think of you I'm running on empty and a mountain so high I can pull out your pictures and look in your eyes I long for the day when your old man comes home It kills me to hear you say daddy don't go You say daddy come home You'll just have to wait I hope when I get there that it won't be too late Daddy's at work now he's trying to pay bills Ego's and assholes are part of my deal I make some money and I have some fun The tax man he cometh and I'm back to square one Don't worry bout your daddy You girls be good Give a kiss to your mother I sure wish I could This life has it's moments I'm not always sad Take care and I love you Your rock n roll dad

Daytona 500

(feat. Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna) [singing] We are the G, O-D's And we came to rock, the spot Like Ironman Starks They be the illest MC's, in the world today Cappa Raekwon and the R-Z-A So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear Light your blunts and down your beers Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez... [Verse One: Raekwon the Chef] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge Knowledgists, street astrologists Light up the mic God, knowledge this Fly joints that carried your points Corolla Motorola holder Play it God, he pack over the shoulder Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives Rapel on fakes like reflectors He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing Claim they doin the same shit we doin, fuck your unit It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials Especially that, aluminum bat in the act Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex Index finger be sore, bustin these fly scripts The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans Layin with my bitches and my mans in Lex Lands We losin em, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem Abusin em, rockin his jewels like we usin em Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar Roll with the older God, build with the Son and the Star [Chorus:] All these MC's start realizing That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us [Verse Two: Ghostface Killer] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat Doin forever shit, like pissin out the window on turnpikes Robbin niggaz for leathers, high swipin on dirt bikes Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings Body chemical CREAM, we burn kerosene The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph Zoomin like binoculars, the rap blacksmith Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy True identity hidden inside secret tabloids Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes Yo jostling these cats while Little J be deli-ing Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians [Chorus] [Verse Three: Cappadonna] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills My gold plate, my slang kills My Benz spills, whattup Lils Murder one Dunn Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe The mad-hatter big dick style, beware goons smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs Let the Gods build, pull up the grill Check out the mad skills Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it, jiggy style of rap and watchin knuckle slang sweep it out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten High top notch, borderline rhymes is handcocked Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot Get yourself shot [Chorus]

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