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Kurious lyrics - A Constipated Monkey

Top Notch

Original and similar lyrics
[Kurious] Kurious the motherfuckin magician with the wand, is (tell 'em) the man, if I uhh, blow like (BLAOW) Jizz in your grill, constipated for real With the shit to fulfill, combined with mad skill Brew in the freezer, no time for cock-teasers Asthmatic wheezer gives more props to a skeezer Why? Simply cause she know what she want She won't say, I'm so horny, and then front When my brain is racin triple time with thoughts of fuckin you, on my mind You say it's fine, I find it rather odd Leave me with my dick mad hard, mentally scarred Poppin that shit when I said from the gitty-up I wanted to slay that ass, lick your titties up Fakin moves bitch you need to stop Tell you straight up, cause my notch is top Chorus: repeat 4X Now I hold my crotch.. Why the fuck you hold crotch? .. cause I'm top notch - De La Soul [Kadi] Mister, Huh Huh is it all about blunts? Simulatin ideas, just confusin the drunks Check this out I don't get down like that cause me and the magician come with tricks in out hats and pats on the backs is somethin I don't need when I realized that it's triggered by the greed in your heart, you can't play me, like a dart All you wanna see is the progression on the charts Remarks on your memos, change the numbers on your checks but does it really matter when you girl gives me straight neck? (Straight up baby) Aww fuck, I guess you're outta luck Now you understand? You're walkin like a duck The, truth hurts uhh, your girl flirts and I walk by you, with frustrating smirks Jerks get played by the tricks of my mind A call costs a quarter so I'd never drop a dime Chorus [Psycho Les] Ba-ba-BAM! Smack you in the face with mud Now look at your grill, fuckin shit got blood on my shirt, back the motherfuck up jerk It's the wicked, Psycho Les puttin in work Nijjas got me flippin right to the other set I smoke punk niggaz like my name was Boba Fett I drop bombs, that land on your moms I smoke the 808 blizznuts, fuck the tom-toms Beatnuts, number one sin-ner Fuckin around with the (???) Bitch drink one to the head - BOOM SO WHEN I POP MY DICK, HIT THE BED! Suck, on your tits and eat the cake Stick my dick and filled the bitches like shake Oooh oooh, nut and check my watch I gotta be ghost, cause I'm fuckin top notch Chorus {*needle drags across record*}


Compton's Most Wanted "Music to Driveby"
I guess I'll start by saying the bitch aint worth a penny and when it comes to fucking, geah, she fucks plenty Known around the hood cause she's got much clout In a circle to the homies like a damn bus route Geah, in the back seat somebody's finger fucking Just like a chicken on my dick she's plucking Oh geah, a chicken head bitch is what you call her Fucking everybody from clucks to ballers I know you seen her coming from the 10 dollar motel 2 hours is what you get to make this bitch yell holler and scream, climb the walls Open your mouth bitch here comes the balls And don't fake hoe, because I'm ready to rock ya Killing that twat off just like my man Shocker Hoe is hotter than salsa, but leave that drama nigga you can toss her, cause she's a hoodrat She's sneakier than a fucking devil Just like Bushwick said, geah she's on the other level Some St. Ides brew and the bud you can work this Turning tricks like a clown in a circus And don't get sprung, your little dick 24-7 everybody sticks, geah Thats the way it is, thats how it goes Sucking up nuts like water from a garden hose So boys strap the jimme when its hard cause the juices might be charged And geah, she got the shit that kills And you'll be pulling out an electric eel Fucking everyday, just to get her propers You might get hooked but she wont stop the sucking and fucking and geah its just like that Dirty as hell, damn, another hoodrat Now the shit done hit the fan because the bitch is plump And she don't know cause she was fucking like 20 chumps And thats a damn shame. Dont know his last name Might come out Freddy Krueger cause they all ran a fucking train But, fuck no, she's not a tease Even when she's pregnant the rat likes to skeez So here's the dick hit it please Nibble on my stick like cheese After fucking everyone, look at what the hoe done got dick whipped and now the bitch is sprung But a little game and you'll still get the tramp giving up her county checks and the food stamps So watch out your shit if you hear the claps Cause the claps is so horny for the traps So I guess if that bitch is a hoodrat she won't get Eiht by his mutherfucking hood cat, geah

Livin' 4 The Moment

GETO BOYS "Da Good Da Bad Da Ugly"
[ VERSE 1: Willie D ] Picture me broke and disgusted, livin like a fuckin bum Raggedy clothes, not knowin where my next meal comin from I want the American Dream like Dusty Rolls Got my eyes on paper, fuck these musty hoes Foes die slower than an AIDS patient To a tombstone my enemies lead chasin The police wanna see me in an early grave But I ain't trippin on em muthafuckin pearly gates Ways to get a nigga 'fore he get me Always keep my 'stola with me Never beg for my life if they muthafuckin hit me Face, are you with me? (Hell yeah) The D.E.A. tryin to put me in a jail cell (Hell yeah) But I refuse to be locked up (Hell yeah) Give me a quart of ki rocked up (Hell yeah) Money and murder, that's my motto I take my chances in the ghetto, fuck the lotto [ CHORUS: Scarface ] I live my life for the moment, fuck tomorrow Still kill, beg, borrow Money is power Rocks is powder Glock in trousers Block is ours Sold flour Hood sours Crime towers Scream louder [ VERSE 2: Scarface ] Bein broke got a muthafucka focused on the wrong things Livin illegal, armorin the Regal with gold Danes Twistin muthafuckas up, killin em even quicker Niggas on a suicidal mission to get the scrilla Anybody peeler, I'm still a homicidal killer Mob with gorillas, servin the fiends smokin chillers And I'm - so high - that I - can touch the sky Above the fallin rain Let me explain, in these streets no pain Murder your partner if he crosses you, nigga, do your thing It's a struggle for position in this cold dark world Survival of the realest geto boys and girls So what you waitin on, get your muthafuckin ranks And your muthafuckin bank, serve your muthafuckin Hank And your dank, I don't think the sun don't shine In 1999 - so grind Ain't no sense in dyin without a dime Listen to the muthafuckin rhymes [ CHORUS ] [ VERSE 3: Willie D ] Day dark, walk through the valley of the shadow of death I fear nothin We all gotta die of somethin Don't blame me if I capitalize Give me the dope and lock me up if I happen to rise Despise any human that ain't a substance to my lifestyle Put me out my mysery, I might smile Why plan the future when everyday there's a new opponent I'm livin for the muthafuckin moment, DMG, get on it [ VERSE 4: DMG ] Well I, nigga, I come to ride Down for the Southside Drive by your community I'm doin him, we bombin Droppin on your muthafuckin squadron Heartless, bring these muthafuckas rigor mortis For the moment, ??? bonin, who want this? Come on and let me know you really, really want it I'm here, now for life, straight up and down, mangler ??? strangler, hang you up Niggas get smoked like herb Inner cities to suburbs Word em up, fuck em up, tired of bein flat With nothin but these clothes on my back (No scratch) fuck that with the middle finger I'm tryin to turn my grass greener And fertilize my pocket size - for the moment [ CHORUS ]


[E-40] Elite alloy candy coated custom paint Verizon wireless phone Jacob watch with interchangeable bands and five time zones Tryin to holla at a redbone Smokin on some cactus Sippin on some super duper extra strength A buck fifty a shot louie the thirteenth Head hard as a rock stop by the barber shop Shoot some craps in the back then hit the block There go the elroys They handcuffin my boys They fittin to take 'em to the prestink Couldn't say they ABC's backwards So? Shoot I can't say my ABC's backwards when I'm sober E-Figgady a different pedigree than most of these suckers up in this industry be trying to copy me Trend setta, game markin decta, vendetta, big chedda, soil block protecta (Chorus) [Turf Talk & Doonie] Heyyyy, hey-heyy Fuck rallies ride gold ones mayn Sick Wid It nigga what you claim? My niggaz spit gasoline x2 [E-40] Never low on gas Never on an empty tank High octane for the brain, puffin on some dank Traffic backed up like a toilets do, bumper to bumper Music on slap, sounding like a concert Drink in my lap, finger on my thumper Twist wig back, head crack Flat line, alpine, deck Rolla supplier, quiet as it's kept I wanna retire but I can't, the game needs me The game would be boring without E-Feezy I wake up every morning to a shot of liquor A shoebox full of herb and some grits and turkey sausage for my liver Sellin units out the trunk of my car And just think, I started with a pickle jar From a sixteenth of yowder to a quarter kick of blow To a whole thing of some of that YOU KNOW! (Chorus) [Turf Talk & Doonie] Heyyyy, hey-heyy Fuck rallies, ride gold ones mayn Sick wid it nigga what you claim My niggaz spit gasoline x2 [E-40] Yo, yo yo I'm close, I'm doing the most, I flamboast I coast, take my foot off the brake Then I casper the friendly ghost up the interstate Gettin neck motion, deep throat Honey bout to choke I got brigadels to see, marbles to make Droppin prices from state to state like the west nile virus Prolly gammas miralicious Big spit, game vicious Man on the microphigadelian foshelian It's nothin but the forty water Always on, uh, some unreasonable Can't fuck wit it if it ain't equinomically um, er, uh, ta, uh, feasible Me and my weoples stay yaypered up Got a 'Just say no to drug' bumper sticker on my truck and an American flag So I can camouflage my image I'm smokin on some spinach I need to play some tennis before I go to court The water might be finished if he don't report (Chorus) [Turf Talk & Doonie] Heyyyy, hey-heyy Fuck rallies ride gold ones mayn Sick wid it nigga what you claim My niggaz spit gasoline x4 Gasoline! x16

N***** Get They Wig Split

B-Legit "The Hemp Museum"
B-Legit: Bitch I got beam like Scotty Leave you spotty When I point this aim at your brain And leave them hollow thangs in your body Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi Gets dick hard drunk When I'm off that skunk punk And you don't wanna dance tingo tango I let my left right mingle mangle To your jaw southpaw It oughta be a law against these thangs I throw About to lay some shit down with Celly Cel and Bo From the Garden Blocc Hillside got they Glock Mack 10's Mobb shit'll neva end I'm tryin' to have it all So I ball 'till I'm gold Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control C-Bo: I'm fuckin' wit that click nigga That big nigga on the block With Glocks, Rag Tops Cut thangs on them gold knocks Better watch your back 'cuz we strapped with teks Push up in a blue Lex' And dump caps to your neck Mobb shit Bustaz all die Leather trench Brim and two nines Costume of a killa At your bed side holdin' on two millas Uggh we bust them teks close range Livin' estranged Called insane 'Cuz when it's on it's on site no matter night or day And you can't fuck wit these Get smothered with a half a key Bitch Celly Cel: Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane like 'Fenney Hardaway 'cuz I'm out to get every penny Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm checkin' for my scrilla I know'm stilla wig splittin' killa ain't no realla Nigga realla than me Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads Slumpin' hangin out the windows dumpin' And shakin' 'Feds So mind your own Cross the line and see how quick they gone Head blown decapitated caught slippin' in my zone Fuckin' with this Mobb shit Niggaz get they wig split C-Bo: Uggh it's the murder man posted at the front door And when they comes I dumps with both four-four's Letin' 'em have it 'cuz I'm static Dumpin the grass Killed his ass And then kneel down and get my last laugh Punk bitch shouldn't have tripped Now he lay dead in the ditch Ass ripped Suckin' on his own dick Money talk Bullshit walk Fool this ain't no sunshine Three killas One garden blocc, two hillside B-Legit: This shit's fucked and I am tag teamin' with the murder man And that'll hurt a man Niggaz doin' dirt and All you got to do is hop your ass in my 'Cut We'll be back tomorrow mornin' Cell, you comin' or what? I got this gut feelin' About to make the killin' for a livin' The contract said the nigga wore a wire tap And they want him dead A hundred G's for his head And leave a bloody glove down where that body bled Celly Cel: Red rum is what I'm hummin' as I hit the fence Homicide looked for prints but found no evidence Stuffed his head in the duffel bag and zipped it up Them ballas want to see his face before they break us off a cut There it is cashed him like some chips at Reno Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass C-Notes Made the hit Got the scrilla Gone without a trace B behind the wheel And Bo Loc cuffed to the briefcase Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper 'case they on my trail If it's a tail then I'ma leave a 50 empty shells Pistol smokin' These niggaz know we ain't no jokin' Split up the tokens And I'm back in the hood loccin' Fuckin' with this Mobb shit Niggaz get they wig split B-Legit: Yeah, like a real hillside strangler, yola slanger, tryin to get a buck but if I'm fucked in the gas chamber. The autopsy red, them niggaz had some heat fo yo ass. And never leave your block without your glock, clip and mask. Haters hatin but its all game related and that's what we do bitch

Is This The End

Intro/Chorus: Ginuwine Momma told me one day it was gonna happen But she never told me when She told me it would happen when I was much older Wish it would've happened then (Is this the end?) Chorus Verse One: Puff Daddy Sometimes I be wakin up at high noon sayin, 'Why me Lord?' -- folks thinkin I'ma die soon I just tell em keep seekin, but when they sleepin I be concealed up in my room, knowin that it could happen I'm just tryin to maintin, because the future is untold till the static unfolds that the good die young Please God let a Bad Boy die old Do you think I wanna lie cold Or better yet have many shots come close to the head Shirt soaked til it's red The most that was said was that my homies had a toast to the dead Do I need a pack a vest for stress so I can rest Cause even though I'm blessed in my flesh It all came down to a test A motherfucker wanna go and put a tattoo on my chest Now I'm caught up in the mix and I can't do shit, but still I can't ride with program, fearing no man Hit the car door let the door slam it's a blessing that he had slow hands But he's still right behind me All these heartless fools is steady comin after my P So many phony niggaz lovin to hate Sean So many cheddar niggaz comin after my cheese Is it my car that they're losin, are we all for the choosin? Or is it all in confusion? Better yet all an illusion Shots rang through the hall bullets cruisin for bruisin Don't let this heartless bastard take my life away I don't wanna conceive takin his either Dipped into the back and took a breather Heard steps steady in closin with the bullet skeezer Gotta do somethin, I ain't scared to go but yet my heart is steady pumpin for somethin I refuse to be the one that they be dumpin Gotta get away before the techs start gunnin Bodies start jumpin, wreckin my brain not to try and understand but withstand, is it cause I'm a rich man Or just to try to put a brother down in the dirt like quicksand But no matter what the reason, I don't wanna stop breathin There's dreams to fulfill still Can't complete em with a still kill Face to face with enemies still grill Forgive me for the pain I've caused and the sins I've committed even though I'm not hopin to go I wish someone would open the do' This man's holding the trigger and his finger's steady choking it slow Is this the end? Chorus Chorus Two: Ginuwine Just, can't, let, go (Is this the end?) I, just, don't, know Wish it would've happened then Verse Two: Puff Daddy, Twista Did I just hear a tight jam, now it's on let make my maneuver Hit the alley saw a man in a landcruiser In his hand was a Ruger, dipped in a Lex like Luger Heard shots from a steel bruiser Teflon in the seat took a pale stress Felt the hate on my chest as I placed on my vest What's wrong with the brakes in the LX? Ran straight into a lightpole, just before I got my life stole A car came to the rescue I bailed in and said, 'Bless you But what made me the man you would wanna show help to?' I proceeded to ask him, and he said with a passion I could never watch a soul die, plus you the man lookin too fly (But who are you?) The pimp nigga named Twista from the cold Chi When the sun's shy gotta keep one eye, nigga I been shot at and stole on No protection from one time, only caught for my prime So I asked the Father what I did so wrong? Cause shit it's been hard for me besides chief and the smell of sweet news when the beef brew Motherfuckers steady ballin but steady fallin right in detours, bout to hit my feet soon So I just presume, deep into the rhymes of a rapper Prepare my mind for the capture Thinkin Ginuwine like the bachelor But why these niggaz wanna make us into crime with the rapture? Ego for dispersin us, don't even hurt the clutch Cause he's coldblooded and merciless Steady bustin shots at both of us, was the strap close to us Then for survival we both to bust But Renaults get to roast to crush, cause he steady gettin closer Paranoid like a crackfiend when the gat seen scream when the bullet hit me in the shoulder Don't wanna die til I get older Try to visualize the beholder, he's inconceivable so now my sight is gettin dark a lot Best to step off in this parking lot where them dogs bark a lot And try to wait until his ma get hot I can make a person fight to survive whether good or connivin You never know when it's your time to leave Smokin weed to keep my mind at ease, let's go back to the car but wait, I can't find the keys Plus we didn't chill long enough, the footsteps are comin close Is it one of them unholy men? With a strap ready to boldly sin Mama told me it was comin, but I wish she woulda told me when Is this the end? Chorus 2X (Chorus Two fades out at the end)

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