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Kool G. Rap and DJ Polo lyrics - Roots of Evil

Mafioso

Original and similar lyrics
Verse 1: Who macks the most shit? smoke ya whole clique like roach spliffs who's ro's drip enough to hold drifts and float ships? no mo' shifts, I hold enough chips to toast Criss It's G. Rap, the cat thats on your wanted most list I wrote this so you could sweat this and soak this make you lose ya focus with raps stronger than coke is we're crime culprits, put hot shit up in you like posters left for the vultures, we DT's pickin' up cultures three-thousand volt ya just like the thrid rail and if you heard shells a herb fell swift with the words well jakes on my dirt trail kicked up enough dust to hurt cells swerve in SL's, niggas feel me like my shirt's brail curve the jail cell for jakes that wanna H-block those niggas in Paco's keep the blocks froze and the shops closed where the pot grows, young cats coppin' the drop Roves get the Nacho's, and no cops show when the shots blow shit's red hot though, the streets remain flooded with D's bundles of Ki's to maintain a hundred degrees the main crime wave we handle the beef in .9 ways get your mind grazed my teck-nine sprays your spine blades when it gets too hot on the block better believe the rhyme pays put all you cats in cradles if you crave divine ways diamond ??? rays blindin' you with my shine glaze, unlike them other rappers that get stuck in a time phase Chorus - Wanted for ???, major operations, distribution (G. Rap is down with a mafioso posse) Wanted for ??? major operations distribution, rackateerin', prostitution, and paid execution Verse 2: My corporation's body casin', watch where you pacin' thug orchestration, this is live niggas you facin' we paper chasin', for that million baby we lacin' Fifty Caliber gat embracin' leavin' you wit' legs without sensation who's full of malice? what thug's the wildest? act childish and get your body sent to a stylist who live the foulest? be grippin' cannons 'till my hands is kalused pile this paper longer than malice from Ney York to Dallas purchase a palace, sip Collatas with the whole brigata bodies get dropped while I attend the opera land on Casino roofs in Helicopters in Las Vegas Nevada can't stop until I got a Casa up in Trump plaza 929 Mazda, foreign chicks talkin' with accents like they Sza Sza cream like Iri Amin Dada thug saga, slugs burn you like they lava you and ya bimbo get hit up through ya car window creep on your benz slow and let ten blow from out the darkest shadow my aim's straight as an archers arrow I'll spark this barrel hit my target even if the mark is narrow lay you like a pharoah with fragments inside your bone marrow get your wig flown just like a sparrow. Chorus

Ryde Or Die, Bitch

THE LOX "We Are The Streets"
[Jadakiss] I'm feelin this hook right here Good lookin out Timbaland, y'know? [Timbaland] Uh-huh What? Uh-huh What? Chorus> [Timbaland] (Eve) [I need a ryde or die bitch] (I like to rock Prada suits and my ass is fat) [I need a ryde or die bitch] (I push a Cadillac truck with my friends in the back) [I need a ryde or die bitch] (Smoke 'dro, drink liquor, like to fuck 'til I cum) [I need a ryde or die bitch] (I rock a icy ass chain with a earring in my tongue) Repeat 2X's w/ slight variations by Jadakiss> [Jadakiss] Ha Yo, yo, yo Yeah, what's up ma, what's going on, I know you know 'Kiss The nigga with the hot flow and a cold wrist Can flow always, sit on 4 K's Then wait for a drought and flood 'em with all 'dres Ryde or die chick, hand do a B.I. Give a nigga up north some ass on a V.I. And she blackout when she in the mall Got the brand new spring Prada shit in the fall Don't matter what size panties, fitting her small And she don't got no problem hittin' us all And she said she got a man, but he in the fed And she miss him so much that she pee in the bed So you know I had to lighten her raw, fighting the dog Pushing the seat back gettin' right in the fall Make her use a fake credit card twice in a store Might make you do it tomorrow you triflin' whore Chorus> [Styles Paniro] I need a chick that ryde or die, pullin' the 5 Gettin' high with the Gucci frames over her eyes Sweet to the tail, still won't fuck in the Benz cause she bought me a Polo coat and a couple of Timbs' Doobie was rap, both in the movie with gats Gave me head cause the movie was wack, word Toasted her crib, blow in the fridge, she needed to work I died and that bitch gon' put weed in my hearse Gamed her to death, tattooed my name on her neck You don't wanna see me bangin' the left, hittin' the gas That bitch out the window poppin' heat in yo' ass You could catch Holiday in a Holiday Inn With a bad bitch swallowin' gin, word And if it got to do with money count Holiday in With my ryde or die bitch that'll body your man You don't like me as a artist, she gon' body your fam' Chorus> [Sheek Luchion] Uh, uh, yo Yo, when you see Sheek, don't look at me as Sheek from The L.O.X. Look at me as that cat that know how to box Know about glocks, know about slingin' them rocks Know about runnin' from cops and switchin' up spots How to get rich, know about thuggin' a bitch Fuck 'em in the park, fuck a sweet as the Ritz They like that shit, and I ain't gotta spend no checks Fuck diamonds, all they really want is rough ass sex And they name, shout it out when I'm up at Flex I get drunk with bitches that don't get drunk Don't get high, have 'em doing drive-by's Shit they never did, forgetting about they kids Moms babysitting, ain't seen her in a week I'm a bad influence to parents that hate Sheek I need a ryde or die bitch that'll take this coke Out of town, and come back and breakdown when I'm broke, what Chorus>

Can I Get Mine?

MC Eiht "Last Man Standing"
Check it out (Chorus) Can I get mine? Can I get your money? Cause ain't a damn thing funny Niggas you know the deal Needs nuthin' but cash Serves the late night fiends to collects my green Peeps the dramatics Still no time for static Paper to all my crew You know how we do Controls the work force Y'all know what I'm speakin' Broke niggas I gets my clown on, ho's I gets my pound on Silk shirts to leather kicks with flicks in Paris Smoke bud in every state, no cases filed for rape Can't escapes that It's the life of the rhymer, fool Me please, I insist to make G's Chills at the top dollar spots with bitches So they can get a glance at the Eihthype riches Bitches they wanna follow and peeps my route But soon catch a hollow and be assed out Ain't no competition Wishing on a star Won't get your ass to very far Dumps out the car, gives a fuck who you are Picks up the stank ho's that chill at the bar Chorus... Come on, uh Half Ounce one time Represent, geah Soul Assassins two time Represent, geah You know how we do, you know how we do Who lounges the best with bitches by the pool Shooting pool, laid back, we too cool Muggs with all the China white, still heavy weighting For the cops to instigate fools player hating Two bitches on my arm But I ain't greedy As I gives to the needy, picks up real speedy You know who moves the crowd like a hot A.K. Money spends, bitches throw ass my way Gives me lots of pesos for the 'migos Pump it hottie, Eihthype rocks the party Who gets away to pay the D.A. So I can float around to make my pay Pay backs a muthafucka you know? Fools that short stop best beware for the pop Niggas stop, drop and roll +Youse a Customer+, heavy weights is straight hustlers Chorus... Geah Eihthype one time You know how we do, you know how we do Geah My nigga Muggs with his China white still pushing that Soul Assassin two times come on Half Ounce one time, uh Geah Check it out, uh

Kizz My Black Azz

MC Ren "Kizz My Black Azz"
You kiss my black ass because you sucked my dick off My balls are fallin out of your mouth when you cough This is for the people in the business, the people in the streets And most of all it's to the wack muthafuckas with wack beats Fools on the streets wish they was in my shoes Cause every day they wake up, they see me on the news I'm hittin number one the first week that I'm released And my muthafuckin business and my bank account increase Bitches ride the poke and niggas ride the sack So I guess that you can say they're both caught in the impact Niggas in my neighborhood ain't about nothin The po' broke muthafuckas think I owe em something But I don't owe em shit but a 'what's up' for a hello And ask for a job, the answer is, Hell no Go back to the corner with your brew and be angry Cause lookin at me crazy, that shit ain't gonna change me But some of them are cool, and they know who they are The ones that used to kick it with me when I couldn't afford a car But the others talk shit behind my back The main muthafuckas always sayin they gotta rap Wait to make a record like it happens overnight But the rhymes are always sloppy and they're never ever tight Then they get pissed when I tell them that it's wack But Ren ain't a pussy, so step the fuck back And kiss my black ass I'm tired of rappers with live instruments on the stage Save the shit for parades And while you're at it, why don't you dress like a clown And draw yourself a permanent frown Cause the pioneers didn't draw bands in the blueprints Because it wouldn't make sense Rappers doin this should retire Niggas lookin like Earth, Wind Fire People don't go to rap shows, so they can hear a band It's like a man tryin to fuck a man It defeats the whole purpose It's like a fish tryin to swim on the surface A big circus, all that's missin is a tent Because the shit ain't worth five cents So a nigga like Ren'll take a stand To say a real rap artist don't need a band All you need on the stage is meat and bones Save the band shit for Quincy Jones And no more singin on the breaks, please The shit is spreadin fast like disease And for them I'll be a cure, pure You know that I know I'm sure So I'ma trap on my lure Every hypocritical muthafucka that's suckin with the rap Give him a real nigga slap Kiss my black ass Now rappers in the business talk shit behind my back Just because their shit ain't sellin and people call it wack But when I go to clubs, I get the utmost respect Them jealous muthafuckas know I clock crazy checks Sayin I wouldn't sell if I didn't cuss But while they fuss, I'm goin, gone, they goin dust Barely standin the light of the lime Life's a bitch with some pussy-ass rhymes But they always on my dick when they see me I think beneath that point, they wanna be me I don't break my neck to be in other niggas' videos Standin around like hoes But them other niggas gotta do it for pub' Because nobody recognize them in the club And when they see me they wanna kick it, so people'll stare Quit swinging on my dick hairs And as soon as I leave, the muthafuckas start yappin Run they mouth like a bitch, better than they do rappin And I don't need a crew Because a crew can't do shit that a real nigga can't do So to all y'all niggas that's down with a crew How does it feel ot be number two? Kissin another nigga's ass so you can slick sign a autograph And move people out his path And that's the reason I'ma diss you Stuff your mouth with tissue And kiss my black ass

Thug Love Story 2012

ACTION BRONSON "Blue Chips"
[Verse 1:] She had the sweetest scent I ever smelt, that woman have Skin would glisten like reflections off the bluest jag She had a Jewish dad and a Jamaican maid Started hanging with strippers and dropping the zippers And selling the pussy for paper to play Crusty feet like she hiked for days and live in the mountains At the pub she piss in the fountain shit on the Michigan towers She quick to split She loves some dick in her bowels Dabble in crystal, polish the pistol powder her sniffles with flour Straight flieshman In the private part of her pussy pocket Random pussy farting Sold at the hookers auction Left as a crooked orphan Wrapped in the sports section Box score, fake black rubber cock in the top drawer but Make this fucking bitch sit in vinegar Apple cider baths Sit in the vinegar Bonrsolino PS [Verse 2:] So many unfamiliar faces that have come and gun Your a constant fucked you in the school closet We were young then experimental periods Laid a towel cause I fucked you on your period Stole my mothers car crashed it by the burger king Young blood but we thought it was eternity Raw sex never thought about paternity But now this cunt is trying murder me Abusing me physically and verbally Said my dick was too small I went and got the surgery just to show it off This ain't real shit baby I'm just going off Clear the mind fuck it so I wrote a song Night life I'm destined for the bright lights Knife fights at the bar with some white dykes She hold me down break a bottle on the bitch head 25 out the pussy and it's mislead We always end up in the situation She throwing diapers out the window at me Called the cops said I be the face Beat the case now I shiver at her sweet embrace Sucking like a vacuum Like a Smack spoon Bubble butt thicker then the double dutch In the family tied up and bubble fuck [Verse 3:] Cold tard and I mean it I thought we grow to be old farts in Phoenix Well now you see me low scarves and a ski knit But I've been here since the beginning like a prefix But I'm a to do what I gotta do Trying to make this french dough like a Pâte à Choux Over your head after sex shorty hold me in bed Smoking Ethiopian red The son goes a single teardrop fallopians bled Nowadays you catch the hooker Sniffing coke in the shed It's a damn shame I'm just chilling eating lamb brain I keep the weiner on display for the campaign I'm just doing what I had to do Drop me in the ground but I'm not going To the top till I fall just like Owen Heartbreak drowned sorrows in a love state

Look What I'm Going Thru

PASTOR TROY "Book I"
(feat. Kingpin Skinny Pimp) [Hook: Male singer] Look what I'm going thru [16x] [Verse 1: T Mac] I was sitting at the table while popping on my yego Dual off in my Chevy got me loose finna let go And I got 'em ducking finna buck 'em Shaking bitches off with fire when I'm lucking Murder keep me fiending for a pill in the kill and I steel when I ratter tatter tatter Watch her body splatter cause it really doesn't matter If I gotta I'ma pop her and the clip gone stop her Ena Forina sipping on a Zima Smoke cut it out How you live about Bitches in the South Women in the South Where my yams and my chicken and my color I'm picking, I'm picking, I'm choosing, I'm losing my mind my niggas is all of the time Dope than I choke Coughing the smoke So I be like fuck that dope Let's go bump a dime Fuck with my mind Keeping the nine all of the time I'm chiefing pine, chiefing pine, chiefing pine, chiefing pine Fuck what a nigga say he gone do I represent BulletProof And I been down since '92 Y'all don't know what I done been thru [Hook: Male singer] Look what I'm going thru [16x] [Verse 2: Pastor Troy] Shit all I got is a bunch of problems and other stress In the land where a little man must wear a vest Settle for less But I got lesser Got this bitch that ain't shit and God won't bless her Won't slow me down Front this ho around let's be fo' real Kill or be killed I got feelings but I still can't feel Hungry for meals And until I can say I got it I'ma go take these crackers hostage at they college That's Higher Learning Blunt burning gone help me see The realness of this fucked up reality It's blasphemy A quarter ki of cooked coco Beware, although a bunch of fucking punks out there Ain't no scare Look what I'm going thru [Hook: Male singer] Look what I'm going thru [16x] [Verse 3: Eleven Twenty-Nine] Quarter birds slabbed on the scale with no cut Can't worry about what niggas think cause they don't wanna see me up 1988 we had connections like them Goodfellas Smith and Wesson on my side cause can't nobody tell us Nigga what the fuck you doing how we do it when I pray to God that he forgive me for my sins My mama still tell me till this day Better watch this how they play And muthafuck what niggas say That's that's why my mind can't get trapped inside a nigga no bullshit Tripping off some Anna that's why I be quick to pull quick Money still rolling holdin' down this shit with Congregation Sold my soul Done pimped my foes, still big facing Got me pacing [Hook: Male singer] Look what I'm going thru [16x] [Verse 4: Mica B] Coming up in the game making this money We constantly bumping gimme some on the scene Gotta pocket in the bank full of green And all my real thugs roll to clean Chiefin' that goody Thinking bout business Short term and long term Bullets we burn With a thick firm Let the whole world know it's our turn Major D in Tennessee, ATL, Georgia, and M-Town Bound to crank a spot up now Yes you know we pack them rounds, uh Making moves in the hood Chiefing with the big boys Rolling in the big toys Making all the big noise Ain't scared to go to war And all us hustlers like to score I'm dropping that pants worse Pimp first Then fuck what haters speak I'm pimping on these streets And these south joints paying me Mange twah in the Marriott I send 'em to the private parties Then scoop 'em up From the snake joint and big bodies

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