MANIC STREET PREACHERS lyrics - Gold Against The Soul

Symphony Of Tourette

Original and similar lyrics
Stutter stutter says the little boy I wanna blow a hole in my head I swear what this world wants to hear Trapped in what we know as truth syndrome Stutter stutter silence no friend Childern can be cruel she said So I smashed her in the fucking head Sorry dear that's the nature of Tourette Stutter stutter nothing else but me I twitch and turn while underneath My contemporaries are so in control Fuck you fuck you I grunt and groan Stutter stutter can't keep it no more Childern can be cruel she said So I smashed her in the fucking head Sorry dear that's the nature of Tourette Stutter stutter are your eyes closed You know a hole through which you can fall But I can't even be bothered to hang on When you're this numb news don't register I just opened my eyes [Gilles de La Tourette syndrome - ] [A condition of severe and multiple tics,] [including vocal tics and involuntary obscene speech (coprolalia).] [The patient may also involuntarily repeat or imitate the actions of others.] [The condition usually starts in childhood and becomes chronic;] [the causes are unknown.]

Show Your Ass

J-KWON "Hood Hop"
(feat. Eboni Eyes) [whispering] TrackBoyz. [J-Kwon] Come on..yeah Come on..yeah Come on..yeah Come on..ay [Verse - J-Kwon] Call me, I'm the man You need a hand boo I got a couple hundred grand Dayton's on ya feet, diamonds in ya piece And I like the way ya ass move to the beat You a freak, that's summin you can be Keep playin' wit me, then I gotta hit ya peeps The girls love me, 'cause I'm from the streets In the bed, I'm goin' thirty at least Show-Offs on the cap, plus her ass fat It's so big she gon' let me hit it from the back Not knowin' she a rat, she suckin' on my tat I gotta rub her, so there's nuthin' wrong with that the weed hold that, the blunt roll that And when you give me head, please don't hold back Where your eyes at lickin' the Kodak And when I'm finished, then you comin' it's yo pack Now.. [Hook - J-Kwon x2] Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' [Verse - Eboni Eyes] I hops out the Jag, pocket full of cash Wish your ho would try to jump like she bad Jeans fittin' tight, weave fittin' right The way I feel my ass make the ballers blow they cash Step up in the party, sippin' the Bacardi Betta watch your man cause I'm feelin' kinda naughty I'm lookin' to my left, over to my right I head to the flo', time to get this bitch hype Niggaz in the place, all up in my face Somebody touch my ass I might have to catch a case Don't let the face fool ya, I'll give it to ya Peel a right hand jab like Zab Jooda I say what I mean, mean what I say You wanna fuck wit' me, you gotta pay like you weigh No shame in my game, if you cannot hang Get the fuck up out my face and let me do my thang [Hook - J-Kwon x2] Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' [Verse - J-Kwon] Gon' hit the flo'...gon' hit the flo' Well I hops out the 'Lac, diamond in the back You can tell by the way I made 'Tipsy', I'm a mack Show-Off in fad, Show-Off the fact Give me a Coupe and several hoes, I'll brag Yeah I got a grammar, some say it's country But the truth is none of y'all gettin' money I tried to stay humble, but her ass rumble Give her the ball, guaranteed she gon' fumble [Verse - Eboni Eyes] Skin tight denim, fat ass in 'em I can tell by the way he lookin' at me I can pimp him This nigga herre lame, he got no game His shoes ran over wit' a fake ass chain Never big spenders, on my agenda Get him to surrender, colder than December I'm rockin' my stilettos, box of Ameretto's Before the night is over I'ma probably have to check hoes [Hook - J-Kwon x2] Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' Show your ass, gon' hit the flo' [J-Kwon (repeat until fade)] Show your ass

Passion

AB-SOUL "Long Term 2: Lifestyles Of The Broke And Almost"
[Verse 1:] Game keep changing, Tats on faces Look close, you can see how rats run races You find it's all about the cheese at the other end They forgot the simple shit, like strengthening your limbs I listen to the radio and I begin to cringe I eat MCs, find a spot inside my fridge When y'all was tricking off, taking bitches to the bridge I was sparking up a cig, tryna tighten up this bridge The hook is real catchy and the verse is interesting Now all I need is a feature from Drake or Lil Wayne I never move hoes, like say a Gucci Mane I'm broke as a bitch, and I spit like I'm insane But what a nigga gotta do to shock the whole nation Sign to ROC nation, become a fucking Mason Monopolize, prophesize an abomination I'll Do it, but you thought it was just music? [Hook:] Passion What the fuck happened Somebody talk to him Motherfuck rapping (Oooooh, where's your passion) [Verse 2:] This for my niggas that log on to All HipHop And listen to niggas they never heard cause they love Hip Hop I got so much drive I never need a pit stop It's scarier than a whole hour of Alfred Hitchcock I'll probably make your bottom lip drop when my shit drop I'm in tip top condition With a hustler's ambition Ounce after ounce, me and Jizzle keep twisting Until we get twisted like the caps on snitches Just know our little passion will take you a long way Like Pussy & Patron can salvage a long day I dive head first in a verse and swim away And pull a pen out and throw a grenade at your brigade Like a Skin Head, you're a barber that can't fade I'm up all night trying to come up with something crazy So while you sleeping like a baby I'm a seal up the deal, no relation to the navy [Hook] [Verse 3:] Uhn I wake up in the morning and compose a rhyme doper than the last time before I even opened my eyes Open-minded to the truth, but not naive to what is fiction I probably love this more than my bitch, say I'm trippin' Leave your ass in a ditch, if you can dig it You mad cause I found my niche and you didn't Too fucking bad Fuck with Ab And so you know, every sentence, it is from the Soul [Alori Joh Sings] [Ab-Soul randomly talks]

Street Life

AZ "A.W.O.L"
[AZ intro] Yea Devine Intervention Miliato, Begetz, AZ Quiet Money Presents. [Half-A-Mil] (R.I.P.) Now the twin towers done blew up niggaz seen the footage and threw up I got platinum bullets for y'all to chew up Mil-latin the dog done grew up is it still Manhatten I speak street slang arab-a-latin my gunz speak rat-a-ta-in understand my lingo I'm from Albany Afganistan fuck Chris Cringo and Christopher Columbus I'll shoot scud missles through his kango and spray z gas on ya faggot ass Allah you akba, make 767's crash smack Jesus Christ and smoke a half a pound of hash I keep a half a pound of cash I thought I told you cats I'm not a rapper rock a G on my chest that stands for god fuck Dan I'm dapper prada from head to toe dollars, cherries in the moe you fake ass pimps, get my chips so I'm burying you and your hoes I plant plutonium bombs after each and every show so every artist you sign is guaranteed to blow I'm guaranteed to flow puffin that magic weed knowledge itself nigga that's what you need so fuck you and those crabs that you feed, tell 'em holla at me [Chorus] New York New York with blood in your ice put numbers on your head killa name your price we gets love where ever we go cause the street life is all we know It's all we know [Begetz] I work for a quarter million in dope a million dollars in cash 1.5 under the bathroom stash put that little ass gun away nigga step up your murder game still fuckin wit weed step up to heroine cardiay diamond links no more gold chains vertical doors, candy paint, and woodgrain I'm the one to watch niggaz don't cover your eyes so many eyes on my watch got 'em hypnotized fuckin with hustlers ballin like rap niggaz, throwin money in the air screemin I ain't gotta rap niggaz the 9 m & m ain't sweet like candy got mines on me front row with a grammy slugs on the left and lust on the right fuck an award boo we'll take you home tonight milli gates in the spyder with the glass roof damn near crashed in valet off that over proofed shit, we drunk [Chorus x2] [AZ] I got one son, two guns, a couple of cribs just tryin to live fuck gettin stuck with a bid niggaz I fuck with now used to fuck with his kids slim dude food never stuck to my ribs been tried on occasions I lie with persuasion hustled out of town nearly died in a Days Inn breezed on a turnpike received then returned kites cold D to O.G homie nigga earn strikes burnt mics left 'em there to sizzle for shizzle you know the dizzle my nizzle I'm so visual all jewels tiz you paid dues true to the grizzle blew a few mil and still official BIG we still miss you the games real fical It's two thou and a nickel nigga trying to go triple until I'm there wit you a wheel chair cripple It's no secret I'm a keep it popin like a pistol [Chorus x2]

You're Only A Customer

JAY-Z
Intro: Ha ha, ha ha, Roc-a-Fella y'all Futuristic shit beeotch Uh, what the fuck? How we do. How we do. Uh ha Verse 1: Triple platnum nigga with the solid gold fade All that nickle and dime shit, don't hold no weight Fortune 5, top 5 in the Forbes (you'll see) as you Thumb through the Source I read the Ride report Class C, cold me down with the plastic That's all I Ask Of You, like Raphael Saadiq At the hotel, Nico, robbin' the val suite My people's eyes through the peep hole I'm lovin' you down freak as I Shoot through the city like a rumor Not soon enough, to stop 'em from spreadin' the news Paper headin' read Jay-Z breaths, 80 degrees the only thing to cool them off is a Malibu day breeze Can't sop for the feds, say cheese You know they wanna take a nigga picture Pray for the day to get ya, but I'm a parlay and stay richer for now Jigga hasn't done dirt in a while YOu know my stomach getin' weak from livin' on the streets for real Tryin' to oversee it from suites, orderin' eats At the top where the criminal minds meet That's where the cream is (right) , that's where your dream is (well ain't it?) Hook: You're only a customer (uh) Walkin' in the presence of hustlers You spend money all night long All night long - Mary J. Blige Verse 2: A-yo my youth had a nigga too aggressive I use to speed excessive, both eyes closed No thought infested Hittin' pot holes, cop-o's will snatch your weight But your game most precious Had to rethink things, is pinky ring worth Life on the run and time served in Sing Sing I don't know to tell the truth If I'm pressed for doe, I got to consoul Irv Gotti y'all Irv Gotti: Heads got to roll Jay-Z: I was raised to live, Lord I pray you forgive If not, I just handle it like Jason Kidd What you're facin' is official (it's official) Most cases when I m blazin' won't miss you (won't miss you) Case and point mad bullshitted issue I see it to the end, my writting is so personal My heart bleedin' out my pen, make no mistake aobut me It's only one nigga livin', I got a half a cake about me I got love, to make a nigga die bleedin' is nothin' You make a motherfucker die breathin' then you sayin' somthing, beeotch Hook (X3) More flavor than y'all can image havin' Graphic like Sega, Saturn, traffic like the Bodega It just so happens, you caught me at the the tail end of my dive My brain ain't right from inhaling the work of my life Fuck it, 3's in ya, had to hold D.C. high pissy off Cristle 3 G's high seasoned Bacardy, UV's Blesses my body, we be fresh at the party Play yourself go head if you don't no the ledge It's like spittin' to God Get it in your face fuckin' with niggas over your head Take your time with me, shiftee Use to make Coke stretch like the samplin' a 950 Shit with that, while I'm o a Kawasoki bike At the light, doin' a pike, with a bitch on the back And take flight, my life like it was directed by Hype In 35 slow-mo, with the Rockafella logo Accapoco to Arruba, bay breezes and caviar baluga Very little loot, a loser In the grashish blueish, Les Coup it's the root of evil in these people Hook (X3)

The Philosophy of Horror

JEDI MIND TRICKS "Legacy Of Blood"
[Vinnie Paz] I was Albert Eiensteins mind, I was Italy's fine wine I was working with God when he defined time I was there when the guns first let off There when they cut King Charles head off There when the CIA battled the crack And the tradgedy and triumph of Jeranamo Pratt Punch a faggot til his nose bleed heavy Dead'em all then I escape in green chevy I merk your wisdom, spit a dart at you to hurt your wisdom Put you in the worst position in a turkish prison Yeah... and my intention is to waste y'all And cover your body with stitches like a baseball I fucking lace y'all with the word of the sword And leaving you bleeding in a ditch while you serving the lord You deserve to be mauled by an army of bees Just another faggot dead in his army fatigues [Vinnie Paz] Fuck ya crucifix, your religion and its uselessness Your propaganda is more wickeder than luciphers Islamic scientists predicted the computer chips I spit a rap at you to rock you like Medusa's lips You fucking goons are sick, and y'all can see that and y'all are my sons like Ebrahim and Eshak So lets take a walk through the tivest town I'm the diven science of the light and the sound I'm the sublime giant with the right to the crown I'm the divine tyrant and I'm striking you down So I teach my kin to attack the beast For trying to hide me from the 4th book of Makavis You wack MC's catch a hook to the head Cause y'all don't know about the tibetan book of the dead You don't know about anything that's important About the dead sea scrolls found in Jordan About the way that you conduct yourself in Satan's wratch But I don't fuck with you, you walking down the pagan's path [Vinnie Paz] I'm a swordsmen, the apocolypse horsemen What makes me smile is another's misfortune I like to see your body in flames scortchin' I like to see a part of your brain auctioned I like to see inside of your main organs I like to see inside of your veins pourin' I find beauty in another's pain I find beauty in the spirit of god but I don't fuckin' change I find serenity in torture My thoughts are too pure for the human mind to author Its called God Consciousness Its a level beyond the gods marred thoughtlessness I stay ready for the combat While the ignorant praying and they wondering where they god at.. I stay ready for the combat While the ignorant praying and they wondering where they god at

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