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BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY lyrics

Mesu'z Thugz Cry

Original and similar lyrics
For the ghetto media don't let the light-skin fool ya' I will fuck you up. This is what it sound like. This is what it sound like.(x9) When thugz cry. When thugz cry.(x9) Nigga we represent th planet get schizophrenic n panic maybe the past would understand if they'd get off their ass and mash. How do you manage? Paranoid ,don't even trust my boyz watch for the plot and deploys envoys scopin like a dope fiend but I'm smokin in the alleyz with these ghetto guns and erase my funds Watts, niggaz in Cali take bullets to the brain still rowdy Jesus really never died, you crucified mutual suicide who am I? Local with vocals goin coast to coast Heaven'll move me right fo' sho' deception weather my brethren but sunny dayz when they parlay get killed when they get tah' steppin 'member the weapon'z close and the doctor said I need time to myself on the ocean those frivolous thoughts but I'm brought up full of this independence caught up sever relentless evil intentions nobody knowz him even the henchman warrior, poet, never to mention I love my lady rebel we can get the stroke on, we can get the stroke on, we can get the stroke on. This is what it sound like. This is what it sound like.(x9) When thugz cry. When thugz cry.(x9) We keepin tha liht on at ruthless and I ain't fuckin the boss lookin at me sexy take your cloths off but my dick'll go soft! never mix business with your sickness enemy see me flippin in panic with your little divide and conquer but my sister was ready to bomb her! Get off the dizznik, and up off my voice me and my boyz give us a choice how could you ever tell Sony that I was the only one makin noise ain't it a breech of trust look in the gutter, unh, never judge yo book by it's cover, word to the mathafucker I......I didn't stutter but what if I lost it and came in the office and nobody noticed with liquid explosives on top of Versace cloths give up the ghost Krayzie's Picasso, lil' Layzie like ceasar, Stacks like lil' Pesci N Casino and Wish don't give a fuck! O I'm Gambino -n- the walkin dead woke up on the wrong side of the bed Bible of survival triple six rivals, triple six rival member you said I read but I roll with killaz ,Niggaz that'll bust in the club you don't feel us strapped in the bed, strapped pickin up the kids in the realist, the realist, the realist. This is what it sound like. This is what it sound like.(x9) When thugz cry. When thugz cry.(x9) It'll make your body shake when it's too late soon as you flipped off the safety baby this we all day don't tell me you crazy, will they sell me? Hell naw! For the reason this weepin widow be the demon so cheap and at least she peepin go peep deep dead in yo pockets no sleep Rollin' with my ccrucifix Lucifer usually uses the rule of these wicked tricks in the school of these ghetto games and the fool of this bitches mist I say shame, shame, shame. Enemies attacking me actually I'm in the grain ask Mr. Majesty these casualties well they're passin me by but I hear death callin' when it's so cold in the room who's stalling better come after me, we say fuck y'all all in the battle we, battle we, battle we. This is what it sound like. This is what it sound like.(x9) When thugz cry. When thugz cry.(x9)

Regardless

BUBBA SPARXXX "Dark Days Bright Nights"
[C.I.] Yeah, ha (B.K.) C.I. (okay) Yo You ever rolled up in a convenience store with a forty-four and told the cashier to drop to the floor But you didn't take anything but a bag of chips a half gallon of milk, some juice, and a box of grits [Bubba] Nah but I might walk up in Kroger, head straight for the DVD's Stuff 'bout four of 'em in my cargo, smile and flee with ease Then hit up the Super Target, exchange 'em for store credit That's sixty dollars worth of grub, some squares and a case of Bud [C.I.] Yo.. yo you ever invested your money in some internet stock Seen how your cheese multiply quicker than sellin rocks [Bubba] I invest in pharmaceuticals like Xanax and Loritabs Take 'em all with alcohol, then hunt for some more to grab [C.I.] Yo.. you ever had a chick with no brains, but liked to give 'em that had the nerve to ask you to scream her name while you hit it [Bubba] Haha.. nah but I know this Betty who licks ass for her enjoyment She also takes golden showers and drinks the piss from out my toilet And when it's time for the deployment of doo-doo from out my anus She likes to catch it in her hands and lick the excess from her fingers [C.I.] Yo, you ever tried to purchase a car with a personal check Have your lady call you a dog, and send you to the vet Ever been in trouble with the cops, for more than three times from tryin to sell digital video cameras to the blind [Bubba] Mannnn fuck purchasin a car, I live on 'New Jersey Drive' Athens Georgia, three-oh-six-oh-five, that ain't no lie And my girl don't even speak cause I get violent when I drink But it's perfect cause she don't talk, I need some silence when I think about the thirty-three times the law tangled me up With chunky tray, legs up, stuck, thinkin we fuck Well screw 'em they ain't enough to stop these Sparxxx from flyin If Bubba ain't the truth that just mean that my heart is lyin [Chorus: repeat 2X] No matter what you ask me, I'm givin you Bubba Kay Just the truth of the matter okay Fuck what you say Nuttin more nuttin less, I'ma get it off my chest C.I., spit what I feel, regardless [Bubba] Would you rather move two thousand units and be critically acclaimed or sell two million out the gate and be labelled lyrically lame In other words, would you prefer to have dem mics in The Source or a Grammy, some jazzy broads, a little ice and a Porsche [C.I.] I ain't gon' lie, I'm tryin to sell three million out the gate (okay) And get six mics in The Source off of lyrical force And push a custom made Porsche and a Range with the woodgrain And spit verses sharp enough to cut straight to your brain [Bubba] Well, you ever fucked a chunky broad, weighin three hundred plus up and actually took some pride to the shit, and didn't rush none [C.I.] Yo.. when it comes to big chicks, C.I. plead the fifth Cause I only weigh a buck-fifty and I don't own a forklift [Bubba] Man have you ever snorted coke 'til your heart sat in your throat then took your whole advance to buy more, and woke up broke [C.I.] Yo.. C.I. don't do drugs, I hang out with corporate thugs that transport microchips and oriental rugs Then sell 'em on the streets for as much as they can The only Coke I mess with comes in sixteen ounce cans [Bubba] But would ever consider dancin with the devil for paper Fly with me and Fred Durst on an embezzlement caper Would you bet on the Lakers if Jordan played for the Clippers or leave yo' girl and move to Vegas with a STABLE of strippers [C.I.] Yo.. I wouldn't dance with the devil, the stocks are too hot And if Jordan played for the Clippers I'd claim Cali like 'Pac And I'm not into embezzlement, I like hostile takeovers Corporate jets, BMW's and Range Rovers cause they're tax writeoffs, they're all business expenses And as far as that stripper, yo I let my man hit her (man c'mon) C to the I, Central Intelligence And if I did touch her believe me you wouldn't find a trace of evidence [Chorus - repeat 2X] [Bubba Sparxxx] Yeah (C.I., and Bubba Sparxx, nonsense) I think in conclusion, it could be said That no matter where the fuck I'm at No matter who the fuck I'm around I'ma do what the fuck +I+ do Ride walk leave it or love it I don't give a fuck Now I fucks with a motherfucker like C.I. 'til we both bleed 'til we can't bleed no more just cause I know he'll do that same type of shit The East, the West, don't forget about the South Don't forget about the motherfuckin South Bubba Kay worldwide, ay Venice to Venezeula, () Y'all know what the fuck it is.. () bitch

HipHop Knowledge

KRS-ONE "The Sneak Attack"
You know.. life is funny.. If you don't repeat the actions of your own success you won't be successful You gotta know your own formula, your own ingredients What made you, YOU.. 1987 I was at the Latin Quarters Listenin to Afrika Bambaata give the order The call of the order was to avoid the slaughter He said, Record companies ain't got nuttin for ya! Without a lawyer, he taught The Infinity Lessons In how hip-hop could be a, many a blessing And that was great, so in 1988 there was no debate, we had to end the hate The name of the game was Stop the Violence and unity, knowledge, and self-reliance We - started talkin bout Martin and Malcolm Had these ghetto kids goin, Huh, what about him 1989, Professor Griff speaks his mind but his freedom of speech is declined 1990 came with the West coast East coast, West coast, who is the best coast Lookin back now, of COURSE it was bogus The whole argument was where we lost focus We got hopeless; not with the lyrics and music but with hip-hop, and how we used it Or abused it, you know how the crew get You like it cause you choose it 1991, we opened our eyes with Human Education Against Lies, we tried to talk about the state of humanity But all these others rappers got mad at me They called me Captain Human , another message was sent Self Destruction don't pay the {fuckin} rent Remember that Nobody wanted conscious rap It was like - where these ballers at Where can they call us at All was wack Hip-Hop culture was fallin flat and that was that So in 1992, I found my crew They said, Yo Kris, what you wanna do I said, Damn - why they wanna get with me If I bust they {shit} I'm contradictory. If I play the bitch role, they take my shoe. Tell me what the {fuck} am I supposed to do So I did it, don't stop get it get it get it All of a sudden these critics they wanna spit it Kay Are Ess One is con-tra-dic-to-ry Just cause I wouldn't let these rappers get with me {Fuck} that, {fuck} you and {fuck} your pen If a rapper wanna diss, yo I'd do it again But I'm makin these ends, and I got my friends And I really don't wanna have to sit in the pen So I go back to the philosopher 1993 hip-hop is uhh.. wack Go back, check the facts 1994, Return of the Boom Bap It wasn't all about the loot It was all about Harry Allen Rhythm Cultural Institute Blowin up, 1995 Conscious rap is still alive But nobody wanna play it, nobody wanna say it Nobody okayed it, they'd all rather hate it 1996 it really don't stop We put together somethin called the Temple of Hip-Hop Not just DJin, breakin, graf and lyrics But how hip-hop affects the spirit Step Into a World, that's what I did 1997 I was raisin my kid or kids, but I, had to go Cause New York DJ's changed the flows to clothes and hoes, but that wasn't me I'll be damned if I dance for the MTV So in 1998 I began to debate Should I go now, or should I really wait '99, I moved to L.A. you see and took a gig with the WB Started studyin philosophy full-time To have a full heart, full body, full mind But you know what the problem is or was DJ's don't raise our kids, cuz they so caught up in the cash and jewels How they gonna really see a hip-hop school How they gonna really see a hip-hop temple They don't even wanna play my instrumentals, but big up Dr. Dre, Snoop, Xzibit Especially Xzibit, he was there in a minute Mic Conception, all of them, said Yo you need help I should call them When I was in L.A., I held the crown Bloods, Crips, they held me down I could never forget Mad Lion, killer pride with the gat in the lap in the low-ride Oh I can't forget, Icy Ice, Lucky Lou Julio G, that was the crew Davey D, Ingrid, David Connor The list goes on and on, let me tell ya FredWreck, and my man Protest Much respect, no less To my spiritual and mental defenders Big up to L.A., temple members But in 2000, I seen how I wanted to live I wasn't no executive So I picked up the mic and I quit my job Said to Simone I gotta get with God She said, Don't worry bout these dollars and quarters. Record companies ain't got nuttin for ya. Damn, she took me back to Bam! Took me back to who I am! Brought me back to the New York land! Now I overstand!.. {interviewer} Now KRS-One, now you've been quoted as saying that rap is something we do, hip-hop is something you live. {KRS} Yes! {interviewer} Explain that to us please. {KRS-One} Well, well, today hip-hop, we are advocating that hip-hop is not, just a music, it is an attitude, it is an awareness, it is a way to view the world. So rap music, is something we do, but HIP-HOP, is something we live. And we look at hip-hop, in it's 9 elements; which is breaking, emceeing, graffiti art, deejaying, beatboxing, street fashion, street language, street knowledge, and street entrepenurialism - trade and business. And uhh, that's where y'know that's the hip-hop that that that we're about. We come from the uhh the root of, of Kool DJ Herc, who originated hip-hop in the early 70's and then Afrika Bambaata and Zulu Nation (mmhmm) who instigated something called The Infinity Lessons and added conciousness to hip-hop, and then Grandmaster Flash with the invention of the mixer, on to Run-D.M.C. and then myself. And uhh, we created the Stop the Violence movement, you may recall a song, Self Destruction and and and so on. All of this, goes to uhh uhh, the idea of LIVING this culture out and taking responsibility for how it looks and and acts in society.

Language Arts

Arsonists "Date of Birth"
[Verse One: Q-Unique] Enter the bragin, Q-Leechan from the providence of hip-hop Do bodily damage like a combination kick-chop Teacher Sifu Herc and Sensei Bambaatasan Since I've studied techniques just to drop the kata bomb With Jeet Kune flow, way of the intercepting rhyme Battle to the last breath or till my adversary declines I've trained in weapons, mic chucks and deadly spinning vinyl The drunk munk breathing aerosol till I'm a krylon wino Unorthodox over traditional I may condone it Respectfully bow but never take your eyes off your opponent Square off as I mentally prepare in my rap stance Defeat is a Buddah opportunity 'cause that's a fat chance You write the white belt and flow slow like Tai Chi I'm like Freddie Fox(xx) possessed by the dragon, y'all won't fight me Your side kicks don't move me, and seem to have no flavor left So I drop the flow Kashugi and have them all pray for death Train till the sample's done. flip with weight like Samo Hung No need to handle guns, watch and see me make this mammal run At the end of it all, I'll retire undefeated Live by the mountain side and write a book of Five Rings for you to read it [Chorus 2x: Q-Unique] Training, balance Focus, challenge Meditate, silence Skill, talent Broken patterns Have a seat and play your part You must learn to accept defeat Check my language arts [Verse Two: Q-Unique] (Ha ha ha ha ha..) We meet again young Choy I will now take you down with the six steps of b-boy There is no way you'll overcome my 1200 turning techniques or take out my pen-fist punchlines, your beginner styles are too weak My fat cap burner kicks'll go over your toy throw-ups You have a lot of guts, I'm even suprised you showed up but still.. we'll write fight to the first strike or rhyme battle to the very end And if I am to die, my loyal students will take the revenge Direct confrontation with Grandmaster number seven Push past and catch a blast from my right fist of legend In a kombat with mortals I play the part of Lui Kang Confuse you like Manderan slang and balance out the hip-hop like Yin Yang Chasing fallen rap monks till they run far Have me resort to animal instincts like Hung Gar and Flung a ninja star Aimed at the head of an A R white belt whose fight felt unskilled Surrounded by a class of records execs and got them killed Taste my own blood a lash out in a rage My 'bo staff' is the microphone stand, my 'dojo' is the stage It's the year of the Q, mark that on your calendar A double clap at the end of the battle means bring on the next challenger (Chorus 4x)

Root Down

DISPATCH "Four-Day Trials"
I Kick My Root Down I Put My Root Down It's Not A Put Down I Put My Foot Down And Then I Make Some Love, I Put My Root Down Like Sweetie Pie By The Stone Alliance Everbody Knows I'm Known For Dropping Science I'm Electric Like Dick Hyman I Guess You'd Expect To Catch The Crew Rhymin' Never Let You Down With The Stereo Sound So Mike, Get On The Mic And Turn It Out We're Talking Root Down, I Put My Root Down And If You Want To Battle Me, You're Putting Loot Down I Said Root Down, It's Time To Scoot Down I'm A Step Up To The Mic In My Goose Down Come Up Representing From The Upper West Money Makin' Putting Me To The Test Sometimes I Feel As Though I've Been Blessed Because I'm Doing What I Want So I Never Rest Well, I'm Not Coming Out Goofy Like The Fruit Of The Loom Guys Just Strutting Like The Meters With The Look-ka Py Py 'Cause Downtown Brooklyn Is Where I Was Born but When The Snow Is Falling, Then I'm Gone You Might Think That I'm A Fanatic A Phone Call From Utah And I'm Throwing A Panic But We Kick It From The Root When We Break It On Down Jimmy Smith Is My Man, I Want To Give Him A Pound Chorus Ad Rock Don't Stop, Get On The Mic With The Tic And The Toc I'll Fill You With The Fuckin' Rim Like Brim I'm Walking Down Your Block And You Say That's Him There Goes The Guy With The Funky Sound The Beastie Boys You Know We Come To Get Down Because I've Got The Flow Where I Grab My Dick And Say Oh My God, That's The Funky Shit So I'm Going To Pass The Mic And Cause A Panic The Original Nasal Kid Is Doing Damage Every Morning I Took The Train To High Street Station Doing Homework On The Train, What A Fucked Up situation On The Way Back Up Hearing Battle Tapes Through The Underground, Underneath The Sky Scrapes Like Harlem World Battles On The Zulu Beat Show It's Kool Moe D Vs. Busy Bee There's One You Should Know Enough Of That, I Just Want To Give Some Respect Due M.C.A. Grab The Mic And The Ma Bell Will Connect You Bob Marley Was A Prophet For The Freedom Fight If Dancin' Prays To The Lord Then I Shall Feel Alright It Feels To Play A Little Music Tears Running Down My Face 'Cause I Love To Do It And No One Can Stop This Flow From Flowing On A Flow Master In Disaster With A Sound That's Gone I'll Give A Little Shout Out To My Dad And Mom For Bringing Me Into This World And So On

ZZZ Top

AESOP ROCK "Skelethon"
Somebody in a cultivated moment of distress Composed himself to artfully carve Zoso in his desk They was probably thinking fuck you fuck you fuck you in they head With a hell bound arm and a acidy wash Homemade curfew a thousand o'clock And a pot leaf tattoo his friend did drunk Like a badge of mystique that technically sucked Taking the name of the father in vain On the way to the blade in his locker, it's strange A switch he lifted from a siblings skivvy drawer Who branched off into ninja stars And never knew his shit was sharp To here with a higher purpose And a prime alert to juvenile beserkers Like kush Van Morrison an Arcade Drop Floor Down to the valley time for miss Ahkmar, watch Capital Z (ed), slowly maneuver the O S is the most difficult to control Finally O Into the eye of Goliath you goes That levee crushing percussion Will pull the monkey up right Twelve or ghetto blaster Blacken her technicolor telecaster Lecture at a faster rate The class was making them develop backwards It would appear you spelled out all the answers Somebody in a cultivated moment of distrust, composed themselves enough to magic-marker "Zulu" on these chucks, they was tryin to do the buckle font from 'renegades of funk', in a 3d frame of exploding brick, and whiz-lines for the locally motion sick, beyond gross but evoked a host of "oh dip" where a social neurosis owned the whole strip, heart of a cat with a lark in his mouth in the marrow of waiting his guardians out, flashlight, chisel tips, milked venom, pistol grip, images relocated from milled vellum to scissor kick, silent agreement at hand, king of the hill for a queen of the damned, she in the doorway seething began "that clean white pair had a 3-year planl", oops, capital "zed", radical "u" in the cut, truly to beautiful "l"oser it up, and he done, collateral damage a future alum, that key to Shambala, planet rocking, Bambaatta, sample chop, churning out a cancer for the vandal squad, analog, and he finds, animated colors on a page, like synthesized cultures on a stage Somebody in a cultivated moment of resolve, composed themselves enough to publicize "the Zeros" in this stall, they was scoping every dog and pony previously scrawled, with a festering hate for the gum drop edge, 'disco sucks' tee, punk's not dead, but a transient teen unsung godsend, via 3 bar chords and a mugshot grin, cheese, sign of a runaway tone in the face of authority thumbing nose, cutting it's teeth Pretzled up in special order vinyl, and birds that dip their belts in little metal porcupine quills, 2 dutch at a show in the front, low-key to the can for a smoke and a fuck, Trixie, fixing her lipstick up, when his mitts got bit by the mischief bug, snatchl, capital "zed", terrible "e" in vermillion red, gimme an "0" and a slippery "s", over a web of the shittiest bands, that beat your heart out, never bleeped your favorite parts out from a learned curve, of bird fingers bursting out of germs burns, urgently, offered through the circuits ofan earlier plot, I'll see you at the When they ask how you, feeling you, tell em you, feeling like, something important died screaming, you, tell em you, feeling like, something even more important arrived breathing, something you should probably try feeding When they as how you, living you, tell em you, living like, something important died hissing, you, tell em you, living like, something even more important arrived giving, something you should probably try willing

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