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JUVENILE lyrics - Solja Rags

Livin' In The Projects

Original and similar lyrics
I'm a nigga from the third with a helluva nerve, And if you cross my line then you will get served, I win, lose, or die this happens everyday, Muthafuckas get killed in this game I play I put these hands on a nigga cuz he talk too much, He told my business to a bitch, I had to fuck him up When I confronted this nigga, he got highly upset, Took off his shirt, booted up, then looked down to my chest, So I slammed his ass, the nigga started to kick, I went to stompin' in his face, fuckin' up his shit, Gave him a good ass whippin', then I started to steppin', I saw him reachin' in his pants, I seen he was stressin', The niggas was stuntin', but I had mine, Five times through the chest, family outside cryin', On the way back home, I saw this sharp ass lady, Polo down, hair fixed, and some gold earrings, I asked just where she's headed, she said "7th Ward", Release the fine bitch out the St. Bernard, She hopped in the ride, I take the hoe to Popeye's, Got a three piece white, cold drink, and small fries The hoe got full, we went to the Rochambeaux, Took off her clothes and bust three nuts and after that I was through, Took her halfway home and told the bitch "Get on", Didn't give a fuck about her cuz I gave her the bone, Everyday somebody else will get, hung by the gaffler, Niggas roll down the ave., cuz I'm the neighborhood amp, Fuckin' around with the Juvenile and you get your brains blown out, Cuz that's what livin' all up the project is all about

All Freestyles With Free World

EMINEM "8 Mile Soundtrack"
(First Battle) (Lickety Split) Check this out Check this out Yo, this guys a choke-artist Ya catch a bad one Ya better off shootin ya-self wit Popa Doc's handgun Climbin up this mountain, ya weak I leave ya lost witout a paddle, floatin shit's creek You ain't Detroit, I'm the D You tha new kid on the block, bout to get smacked back to the boone-docks Fuckin Nazi, this crowd ain't ya type Take some real advice And form a group with Vanilla Ice And what I tell ya Ya better use it This guy's a hillbilly this ain't Willie Nelson music Trailer trash I choke ya till ya last breath And have ya lookin foolish like Cheddar Bob when he shot his-self Silly Rabbit, I know why they call you that Cuz you follow Future, like he got carrots up his asscrack And when you act it up, that's when you got jacked up And left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up I crack ya shoulderblade You'll get dropped so hard that Elvis will start turnin in his grave I don't know why they left you out in the dark Ya need to take your white ass back across 8 Mile to the trailer park (Crowd Cheers) (Rabbit/Eminem) This guy raps like his parents jerked him He sounds like Eric Sermon The generic version This whole crowd looks suspicious It's all dudes in here Except for these bitches So I'm a German ay? That's ok, you look like a fuckin worm with braids These leaders of the Free World rookies Lookie, how can 6 dicks be pussies Talkin bout shit's creek, bitch you can be a piss creek Wit paddles this deep Ya still gonna sink Your a disgrace Ya they call me Rabbit This is a turtle race He can't get wit me spittin this shit Wickedy Lickety shot Spicious spickety split Lickety So I'ma turn around wit a great smile And walk my white ass back across 8 Mile (Crowd cheers) (2nd Battle) (Lotto) We rollin muthafuckaz What's goin on baby? Yo it's time to get rid of this coward right here once and for all Sick of this muthafucka (Rip it Lotto, rip it baby rip it, yeah) Check this shit out Huhhh huhhh I'll spit a racial slur honkey sue me This shit is a horror flick But a black guy doesn't die in this movie Fuckin wit Lotto dog you gotta be kiddin That makes me believe, you really don't have an interest in livin You think these niggas gone feel the shit you say? I got a better chance joinin the KKK On some real shit though, I like you That's why I didn't wanna have to be the one you commit suicide to Fuck Lotto? Call me ya leader I feel bad that I gotta murder that dude from Leave It To Beaver I used to like that show Noe you got me in fightback mode But oh well if ya gotta go then ya gotta go I hate to do this I would love for this shit to last So I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my ass And alls well that ends ok So I'll end this shit Wit a fuck you, but, have a nice day (Crowd cheers) (Rabbit/Eminem) Ward I think you were a little hard on the Beaver So was Eddie Haskal Wally and Ms. Cleaver This guy keeps screamin, he's paranoid Quick, someone get his ass another steroid! Blabbedy bloom blah, blum blabbedy bloom blah I ain't hear a word you said, hibitit hoopla! Is that a tanktop or a new bra? Look, Snoop Dogg, just got a fuckin boob job Did you listen to the last round meathead? Pay attention, ya sayin the same shit that he said (I'ma fuck you up) Matta fact dog, here's a pencil Go home, write some shit, make it suspenseful And don't come back until somethin dope hits you Fuck it You can take the Mic home wich you Lookin like a cyclone hit you Tanktop screamin, Lotto I don't fit you You see how far them white jokes get you Boys like, how Vanilla Ice gone diss you? My motto: Fuck Lotto I get the 7 digits from ya mother for a dollar tomorrow (3rd Battle) (Rabbit/Eminem) Now everybody from the 3-1-3 Put ya muthafuckin hands up and follow me Everybody from the 3-1-3 Put ya muthafuckin hands up Look look Now while he stands tough Notice that this man did not have his hands up This Free World's got ya gased up Now who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf 1, 2, 3 and to the 4 1pac, 2pac, 3pac, 4 4pac, 3pac, 2pac's, 1 Your Pac, he's Pac, No Pac's, None This guy aint no muthafuckin MC I know everything he's got to say against me I am white I am a fuckin bum I do live in the trailer wit my mom My boy future is an Uncle Tom I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob who shoots himself in his leg with his own gun I did get jumped By all 6 of you chumps And Wink did fuck my girl I'm still standin here screamin fuck the Free World! Don't ever try to judge me dude Cuz you don't know what the fuck I been through But I know somethin about you You went to Cranbrook, that's a private school What's the matter dog you embarrassed? This guys a gangster? His real name's Clarence And Clarence lives at home with both parents And Clarence parents have a real good marriage This guy don't wanna battle, he's shook Cuz ain't no such things as Half Way Crooks! He's scared to death He's scared to look At his fuckin yearbook Fuck Cranbook Fuck a beat, I go acapella Fuck a Popa Doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer fuck everybody Fuck yall if you doubt me, I'ma piece of fuckin white trash I say it proudly And fuck this battle I don't wanna win, I'm outtie Here, tell these people somethin they don't know about me (Crowd cheers) (Papa Doc) (Hands mic to Future...nothing comes to mind for Doc to say back at Rabbit.)


THREE 6 MAFIA "Choices"
(feat. La Chat) [DJ Paul-Talking] Yeah muthafuckaz! The Platinum plaque bringers of the mothafuckin' 'M' back in this bitch, nigga. H-C muthafuckin' P. Hypnotyze camp muthafuckin posse. And it's goin' down, like we always do about this time, nigga, night time. We about to load them black trucks up. Who we got in this muthafucka We got my girl La Chat, Gangsta Boo, Crunchy muthafuckin' Black Playboy Juice, Project muthafuckin' Pat, Lord Imfamous, and me DJ muthafuckin' Paul, the king of the muthafuckin' 'M' town. And it's goin' down- HYPNOTYZE MINDS HO! [HOOK] Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia!... Mafia! [La Chat] La Chat, with that gat The other queen of Memphis Hypnotize Camp we got 2 bumpin' bitches... [Gangsta Boo] ...In the club posted up Eight hundred dollar bottles Sippin' Cris fuck a glass Nigga drink it out the bottle... [La Chat] ...Don't be hatin' and shit 'Cause we gettin' paid and shit Ain't no need be lyin' till I die I'm gon' be lovin' this... [Gangsta Boo] ...The bottle-yeah gangsta gangsta Ridin' nigga posted up Fuck you bitches up when I come gunnin' Lettin' the lugers bust Chat, you got my fuckin' back [La Chat] Yeah I got your fuckin' back Buckin' bitches that be hatin' Blow their chest up through their back [Gangsta Boo] High as hell can't you tell 'Cause my eyes are red as fire 'Bout to fuck this nigga Take his money- Pimpin' 'till I die Hypnotyze Minds be the label that pay me Fuck you other rappers talkin' shit You cannot faze me [La Chat] So you heard it from the queens HCP we be together Fuckin' with my family bitch It's gon' have to be whatever... [HOOK 1X] [Lord Imfamous] How can you relate to this Niggaz they be hatin' this Purple fuckin' tradin' man Barely makin' dividends Burn it man, half in Better known as 'assed in' All I want is money man Can't you niggaz comprehend Lock and fuckin' load fool Break the fuckin' law fool Ain't no attitude fool This is what we came to do With them bodies in the bag Put that dope in the bag Put that money in the bag Let's go fool, rat tat tat [Juicy 'J'] They call me Juicy gigolo Got hoes that fill A statue of a fool With them platinum tips I'm tellin' all you bitches To beware of the game I'm tellin' all you niggaz To beware of the lames I freak your baby mama Put her on the house I got my dick sucked When I was on the couch My nigga walked in He said that hoe was stout I hit it from the back My nigga took her mouth [Project Pat] By love real my nig Let blood spill my nig Shoot to kill my nig If ya real my nig Project Pat my nig I spit facts my nig Hang with macks my nig Who tote gats my nig It's blast or be left Baller in your blood White girl up your nose Ya high off that bud A slug in the lot Your car and no strap Blew your gotdamn brains In your partner's lap [Lord Imfamous] Choose your weapons But boy choose them carefully Each of my poisons Are deadlier melodies I am the doctor And this is your therapy You can have one So you must get a pair of these Beat, bound and gagged Bump off bounty Place all his pieces All over county The shit's very lethal That I place in the needle Prepare you for your last trip To the Cathedral [DJ Paul] I seen how TV can hurt And plus platinum plaques to match And add them twenties and vogues And Gucci jackets on backs We got them Bentlys and Benzes And all them Lexus on lock The picture gettin' kind of clearer I see why them bitches hot You hoes is strugglin' and starvin' And wanna rise in the hood It's cold I'm crankin' up heat And you wish you could Y'all wish y'all could get back with us Then maybe then you could shine Like the rappers you wish you was And get off the grind I'm keepin' one in the chamber Because I'm filled up with anger And when I see yo little hoe 'n' You knowin' your life's in danger I do a show y'all in the burough Hollerin' no kind of shit Is that the best way that you know To get attention lil bitch I understand how they feel They feelin' that they left out And we the ones movin' on So we the ones talked about But niggaz keep it your best And one day then you'll get a crown But until then do a hit of coke And keep feelin' down 'Cause suckaz... that's real [HOOK 1X]

I'm Back

AZ "Aziatic"
feat. Animal, Trav I'm a hustler, not by choice (1x) [AZ] I didn't fall from heaven, I rose from hell Bigboy, get bagged, he gon' hold my bail It's like Attica '67 when they, closed the jail Be careful, but promote yo'selves that's what they told me Involved but unconcerned fuck beef when it dissolve it does not return I don't leave, stagnate nor move off-beat So discrete very rarely do I move on feet I rough-ride twin rugers on the sides of my seats Drive-by's, bodies left on both sides of the streets I blacks out never blind by the size of the image No disguise, homocide don't rely forensic Homes's finished, scrambling caught in the scrimmage 12 shells ricocheting and it pours from the hemorrhage Get the casket embalm and forget the bastard for moving backwards New York's number one draft pick I'm a hustler, not by choice (4x) [Trav] All this nigga know is, get money burn a lot of smokes Lazy niggas was sleeping, I was wide awoke Not a joke, creep on snitches, niggas gotta choke When it's time to sleep with the fishes I supply the boat And I swear it hurts, I supply the coke 'Cuz don't nothing scare me worse than dying broke Iron poking on my ribs while I'm laying in a Taurus I live this shit y'all just performers, it's a dirty game I seen thugs turn informers, crooked cops run in the crib, no warrants Money talk though, never stuck in a grudge, Got a female lawyer and she fucking the judge I was once told, that you reap what you sow And a, the scent of weed always seep in your clothes And a, it's Quiet Money so we speaking in codes Like, why should I trust ya?, nigga, I'm a hustler I'm a hustler, not by choice (4x) [Animal] Unh, Yo, Jesus Christ yo, he just nice Like a ginszu blade nigga, he just slice And get y'all out the game, dog, it's not long Anybody can spit, faggot, but can you make a hot song? You're not wrong, like Biggie said you're dead wrong Need to get your flow tight, gotta get your head strong Watch us, the way we floss up in coat lockers Walk right past security, flippin' poppers Like what? who the fuck gon' stop us? Y'all wait until the summer, when this fucking album drop us I know y'all hate it, because y'all flows outdated You finished as an artist and I finally made it But I paid my dues, in this game patiently waited Niggas ain't gimme shit, I had to take it It's A dot, all year 'round I stay hot Nigga I play not, ride thru you're block in that grey drop They call me headhunter, the head is all I aim for The top spot nigga, what you think I came for? These words touch you, cut you open like a chainsaw And now you're your man is like, what y'all said his name for? Fucking hustler, motherfucking Animal I'm a hustler, not by choice (5x) I'm a hustler I'm a hustler

One Of The Last

featuring Baby Reg, Baby X, Big Dan, Mr. Doc Verse one: Baby X-Rated Locc Comin off that high it's that double-set rapped around some funk in the trunk I got the mossberg pump and bout' to jack a punk And when that siccness hits I'm like a new stage Watch my back, hit the dank, load the gat, make the grave Twelve midnight, my niggas on the stroll, Mr. Doc, Baby Reg, Brotha Lynch, Big Dan We bout' to roll ridin deep hella high so nigga peep this, Take ya glock off safety turn around and hit the street When I got the milli pictured in my head Ain't no stoppin cuz the devil said I'm halfway dead What can I say got them evil thoughts fillin' up my Head locc to the brain On that insane tip E-B-K everyday The block-style bitch smokin' dank With my braids in my hair and I'm riding on a full tank My nine on the side going Both ways, Peel a niggas cap and then I'm sideways Chorus: repeat 2X Locc to da brain insane every day all day it' E-B-K Where niggas load they straps cuz' the rival's on they way Verse two: Big Dan Now try to peep this watt G straight low killa rollin five and the deuce Locc to the brain set-trippin' after fucking with that sick juice I fuckin' pump twelve rounds of that knot block the plot (you down to ride?) yeah we fuckin' with them body drops stop Hit the lights there them niggas go Reach for your flags your straps and roll the windows low Roll slow these niggas actin like they know us are here, They fuckin' duckin' dodging bullets damn I emptied the clip They bustin' back trying to hit us from the blind side Low, A fucking doughnut and the twelve-gauge pump Hang from the window what's up now nigga yee-ah L-O-C to the brain and gauge blast equals rest in pain Insane loc so a nigga don't give a fuck It's in the hearts so these rival niggas straight stuck I let the gauge loose damn I've never seen so much blood It's all for gang and the gang shows no love fool So if you ever see us rollin through your side it ain't all good, I suggest you hide Chorus: 1X Locc to da brain insane every day all day it' E-B-K Where niggas load they straps cuz' the rival's on they way Verse 3: Mr. Doc Come with me deep see how I'm bout to do it for this Back with tight big shit Them fools that say they'll kill the stinking hits not doing shit When they get lit up on they turf So move on with they life one even left That since that time I haven't heard from him Now that's my locc right damn, where'd you go folks? Remember we're supposed to be the ones with brains this locc's So nigga fuck it, i'll do it like your ass is dead And touch them niggas with the mack-eleven out of the shell I'm burning up the villiage nigga life is a bitch Somes I set the tags and name on the wall you fucking snitch So you'll make a switch on how you're gang-banging L-O-C and to the brain real locc's don't play that way See your niggas on the other side is best to hit the floor And watch them flesh-shredders bout' to rip your asshole apart And now it is said and what was said Will come to pass from Mr. Doc amen, God bless your ass Chorus: repeat 2X Locc to da brain insane every day all day it' E-B-K Where niggas load they straps cuz' the rival's on they way Verse 4: Baby Reg See I was standing in the middle of a circle cuz' a nigga is trying to jack me With a nine-millimeter ruger and a six deep posse But I ain't going out for a jack move The only thing on my mind Is pullin my nine and these handles in these fools Now tell me what you busters want with me? They started talking about pockets on the ground you mean Empty my loot out, you fools must be smokin' sherms But i'll be glad to put my strap up in your face and let some gun powder burn Now take a lesson from a Sac-Town criminal I'm standing all alone in the street And talkin shit to your circle and ain't no blastin y'all must be bluffin Threw up my sign and grabbed my nine-millimeter nine And started bustin on niggas and watching every muther fucker try to run That locc to da brain got a nigga insane with a fucking empty gun So imma continue to strike and stay alone and maintain my self-pride Cuz' when I ride it's always locc to da brain Chorus: repeat 2X Locc to da brain insane every day all day it' E-B-K Where niggas load they straps cuz' the rival's on they way Verse 5: Brotha Lynch You can't see me for the fact the the inside of my stap's in your sight Bout' to put some slugs in your throat and put your guts in my coat and hit the night Drop a sack of indo in my pipe and it's EBK everyday until the day I hit my grave-sight That locc to the brain cuz' it's all redrum A couple of hits from the purple spliff and I'm workin a fifth of the coke and rum I have my twelve gauge-pump decorating niggas brains Nigga nuts and guts it how we get sick them northern-Cal swangs That locc to the brain shit ain't no game it's a gang Them niggas that killed they mama for some fame it ain't no thang It ain't no way, I dump and let them niggas live Cuz' where I'm from we rockin up on em' bustin them reps up in them niggas ribs It's twelve-o-clock full of that spliff full of that ammo in my glock-nine Creepin through your set hit the stop Sign sideways bustin I see gat twenty-four C's Feel the breeze from the slugs in my nine now Rest in peace Chorus: repeat 4X Locc to da brain insane every day all day it' E-B-K Where niggas load they straps cuz' the rival's on they way........

Funky On The Fast Tip

Lord Finesse "Return of The Funky Man"
Aww shit! Big Daddy Kane (Repeat 4x) Me and the fellas we used to be cool Until I got the fame the girls and the jewels Now I'm the big man and they's the small cat The walk around saying (Ayo Finesse thinks he's all that!) I remember when brothers wouldn't back me (The used to front on me) Yeah exactly They used to laugh joke and try to fool me though Saying (Man you wasting all your time in the studio!) I used to get dissed by the neighborhood snapper He used to say (What you on? You'll never be a rapper) Now that I'm paid, rolling with an even crew The brother be fronting, saying (I always believed in you) Lord Finesse is what I paid the cost to be Back in the days brothers used to step off on me (Going to the movies, Finesse what's up with you?) Yo, my cash is low (Aww, we can't fuck with you) Even my family was dissing Said I would never make it, there was too much competition Out of the family, no one would defend me Said I was better off getting a job at Wendy's Back in the days they was confused, but now they see So they tell me they happy and they proud of me I know the others that be playing with the high credits Saying (Fuck Finesse, and yo you can tell him that I said it!) But when I'm in their face, looking for the payback They're the first to say (Come on, you know I didn't say that) The brother's copping pleas, I have no time to argue Lying so much he should write a fucking novel That's a brother I should waste and get rid of I shoulda (Yo chill, fuck them niggas) Yeah, fuck them niggas Fuck them niggas! ( Take that motherfucker - Ice Cube) Fuck them niggas! ( I ain't bullshitting - Kool G Rap) (Repeat 2x) People try to figure what I'm all about So you always have brothers yapping at the mouth (Finesse is my man!) That's what they shout, see Fronting and shit because they know nothing about me I lounge in the rest because I'm a brother that's laid back So yap all you want but my pockets is gonna stay fat I used to be fast to run and serve a crew If you dissed me in the past, I have no work for you I know who's a traitor and who's my man I know who's gonna scram when shit hits the fan I know who used to laugh, diss, and doubt me But now they want to hound me and be all around me Those the brothers that's always starting rumors But yo, that shit is played out like suede Pumas I make G's whenever me and my DJ flips So I don't give a fuck about that he say she say shit I'm a get mine, so I don't stay worried I ain't scared to go all out and get my hands dirty I could care less, cause I do what I wanna Cause I'm getting papes and got my peoples in the corner So I don't care about all my foes and enemies Since I'm paid, a lot of motherfuckers envy me They try to diss me because it makes them feel bigger But I got three words: Fuck them niggas Fuck them niggas! ( Take that motherfucker - Ice Cube) Fuck them niggas! ( I ain't bullshitting - Kool G Rap) (Repeat 2x) I have a lot of friends since I'm living fat now Calling on the phone with my song in the background Saying (I wanna rhyme, Finesse can you teach me?) Nigga please, you ain't been trying to reach me Those the brothers who's around when you're winning But wasn't there when you struggled at the beginning When I decided to learn, they chose to remain dumb Now they run around saying I forgot where I came from Back in the days there were rappers that weren't nice They used to diss me when I asked for advice Telling me (Get outta here, beat it, go play kid) Now they wonder how I got paid before they did Others used to say (I hate they way Finesse raps) Now I'm making G's so you know I don't stress that I know who's a wannabe and who's a true pal A lotta brothers dissed me, but who's sweating who now? I weak is ignorant, only the strong learn On the path to success, them brothers took a wrong turn My goal in life isn't to prove I'm a badder dude Say I'm the best and walk around with an attitude I kick song raps and drop them on strong tracks I used to go out for self but my mind is beyond that I started with kid rhymes, soon I'll be big time Straight up and down, word is bond, I'm a get mine I got songs to lay and places to play So I could care less what a motherfucker say Rap is a live sport and the ball is in my court And if I score points and you don't, it's not my fault Cause I'll bust your ass on a fast break When you mention my name get your motherfucking facts straight I like to slap up those that act up So if you don't know me best bet is to keep your trap shut I'm not the type to go around and pull a trigger But I won't hesitate to say Fuck them niggas Fuck them niggas! ( Take that motherfucker - Ice Cube) Fuck them niggas! ( I ain't bullshitting - Kool G Rap) (Repeat 2x)

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