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JEDI MIND TRICKS lyrics - Violent By Design

Death March

Original and similar lyrics
[Virtuoso] I'm omnipotent You claim to win battles So when the beat starts I'll punch the tree bark And pass the chainsaw to a ????? heart Severing every animal I'm doing dirt like earthworms I'm sick and original Boy, I gave birth to the first germs I spit the acetate To make your lips evaporate The Master Ape Bare hands will decapitate and bash your face Pass the eight, sack of shake Twisted in plasma tape I came for y'all through the castle gate I come across a substance yet I couldn't lacerate Virtuoso is an unidentified flying object to make your space shuttle ??????? So while you drunks look for a hook and say you masturbate Telling 7L to sratch a plate In due for respect I slap your face Ask to make my specs, I'm a tackle ya You're a neck and I'm Dracula Have sex in the back of a black Lex or an Acura Met with the, Jedi Mind Tricks We rhyme sick and side ????? for dime chicks I'll strangle you, use my same hands to give you the Heimlick So you can live to face more punishment from my divine lips [Jus Allah] Jus Allah prays on the minds of the young Silencing the devil that speaks with forked tongue Taste my blade sharpness Ranked in no class like Marxist The heartless Rise out of darkness I'm the last head you should ever try to fuck with Be the next member in the cast of my snuff flicks Rough shit, don't even attempt sleeping At war with the demons that live in infernal regions Spawned from eternal semen bred flesh predators Wings of the arms when you heels like Pegasus Grabbing your leg, so you live to the heavenless Drop this prejudice and follow me to Exodus [Ikon the Hologram] We ravenous Exhume the tomb of Lazarus You blasphemous We bring war to pacifists Tarantulas, burn flesh like a nine glock Your mind stops from nine of my divine shots A pine box is fine for a killer to run Swing from vines and rhyme like Atilla The Hun Bring the gun, your tounge is what I'm slicing We slap tracks and attack like M. Bison Ilohem, fuck the pagans we mark them And take turns to burn religious doctrines Concoctions of pain hits from eight angles Locked in the brain to lacerate ankles [Esoteric] Yo, I rip mics, stick lames Wreck nights, spit flames Lead pipes, split frames Kid ain't shit changed Act trife I grab the mic and bag your wife Sacrifice you twice Motherfucker in after life Decimate your paradise Burn tracks like thermostats My personal attacks snap back to murder cats I might advise You type of guys should revitalize Your man power, I sabotage the fire flys With a dope rhyme Take control of your soul Grab a fourty fo' for the po's Get your broken nose Opponents go to shows Now they know their robes damn hoes that fold my clohtes I bark at these, mark emcees, park and freeze My world hypothesis Kill beasts like heart disease Man please You can never fuck with the Eso-teridactyl My rap skills will thrash you Motherfucker

Collect My Stripez

MC Eiht "Death Threatz"
[EIHT] (don't fuck around...) Geah In the mutherfuckin house To the 9 to the 6 Compton in this bitch, uh And we in this muthafucka lookin' too greedy This goin' out to all the Hub city players baby Check it out Gang way cause I'm nuthin but a killer A nigga that kill, that's real Eiht gon' steal to your Mutherfuckin jaw Fuck the southpaw We go knuckle to knuckle, I'ma watch your ass buckle (geah) It seems that you talk much trash but I'ma be like Rockets Hard to dump on that ass (pop pop pop) Niggas lookin' faulty, you done fucked yourself this time With the notorious 1-59 You goin be feelin kinda nervous when we pass you Your ride full of holes when we blast you Got no muthafuckin stripes at all Go toe to toe with the M.A. and they gon' fall sucker Better duck ah, I'ma buck ya Serve you like a clucker, punk muthafucka You can't hang with the greatest heavy weights Niggas On The Run, Lil Hawk Bird, Da Foe and Eiht So fool get your flip on, you're trip on Better skip on Before I get my clip on Geah, bitch, right And I'm just tryin' to collect my stripes (don't fuck around...) Nigga Eihthype in the house nigga Young Prod in the house nigga Westside in the house [YOUNG PROD] A East Side Ridah Gots to put it down for the goods I'm slangin' G'd up, throwin up the hood (gangsta) The homies got problems Swerve in an all gold trey, dumpin' (geah) Leanin' out the window deuce-five, bust Givin a fuck like Ike Turner Corner, one times at the light In motion With my big homie on D's (c'mon) Since it's all about the hood I'm jumpin out with the heat, peep Hit that block and stop, I'm in traffic Breakin with the deuce-five strap Call me a classic A B.G. bustin caps for stripes But now it's drastic I wish I had a plastic glock And now we blastin Muthafucka brains and thangs Cause I'm a bastard It ain't nuthin but killin When you dealin with the evil side Caps get peeled And it's still to the G That's how it is Collectin' stripes [EIHT] (don't fuck around...) Eihthype big baby, geah... And ain't nuthin but the killers in here Like I said once again my friend Niggas in this muthafucka lookin' too greedy Geah, watts up rat big baby We in the muthafuckin house, geah Punk mutherfuckers wanna act up How can you speak when you got no fuckin back up? I guess we got bitch niggas in the C.P.T. Tryin to represent but ain't worth nine cent Niggas need to get cut down to size Puttin permanent marks under they mutherfuckin eyes To be or not to be killed is the question When I lay slugs in they muthafuckin chest and You lookin silly - billy Don't hit that high note As I slit your throat Can't stand it, goddamnit! I'ma ram it Any time, any place like Janet I'ma serve you like Flow and Mel's diner Then break your fragile-ass like some china Knick knack paddy wack, give a dog a bone Scaredy cats need to get that ass on We rolls heads like bowling balls Serve your block with the glock like house calls (geah) So don't be fuckin with the crew when I'm buzzed Geah, right and I'm just tryin to collect my stripes Nigga, uh Eihthype in the muthafuckin house Like I said once again my friend It ain't over till the fat bitch spit And she ain't spittin shit Cause we ain't spittin' shit but the nina To the mutherfuckin six, y'know I'm sayin? Fuck all you fake-ass fools out there Cause we ain't nuthin but the True Blue gangstas From the Hub city y'know I'm sayin? West Side hoo-ride all day Nigga and we don't play Eihthype in the muthafuckin house, erb

That's Hip Hop

Mac "World War III"
Say man, niggaz say No Limit ain't hip hop. Man these old fake ass niggaz don't even know what hip hop is. Why don't you show 'em what hip hop is? I'm 'bout to show a nigga what hip hop is. Nigga gimme a motherfuckin' beat or something nigga. Motherfuckin' clap or something. Mac: So uh, who's ya favorite rapper Do he really got skills Is he real Can he flow like this nigga who murda kills Is he a fool Or you like him cuz his single was cool His video got bitches in bikinis hoppin' out the pool Is he complete Do he got tight lyrics and tight beats Do he write his own rhymes Do they sound like mines Is he one of these niggaz who's on Or is he just some other niggaz clone with no fuckin' style of his own You probably like thugs You probably like to fight in the clubs You probably like him 'cuz he talk about murder and drugs He's such a thug What if a nigga told you he lyin' Would he still be yo' #1 or would you change yo' mind Did you listen to his LP or just one of his songs Is he type that just go on and on about being the don Or what he drive, where he live at Tell him you don't wanna hear that You around and GET jacked fuckin' WIT Mac! Mac: So who he sound like Mystikal, Makaveli, or Bone Wu Tang, Nas, or Jay Z Man, niggaz are crazy Niggaz will steal yo' style and fuck around be dissin' you Knowing you the main nigga they be listenin' to So what you like his voice What he make you moist I mean what Did he sign ya autograph when you met him Did he look at you strange and call his bodyguard like you was tryin' to sweat him Did he try to fuck? Did you let him? Did he tell you he was diggin' you And after he fucked you he got rid of you Promised you he would send for you Let him penetrate ya Then you find out he ain't really got no paper Now ya saying he raped ya I know the game is tight, it's alright, it's so terrific What I write is so profilic when it's to a beat that I can live with

Unified Rebelution

JURASSIC 5 "Power In Numbers"
Party people, are you with me Are you with me party people [Repeat 4x] To the beat y'all, and you don't stop Rock the rhythm that'll make your finger pop Ah to the tic toc, tic tic, tic tism Live and direct is the rebels of rhythm On your radio, turn up the stereo, cause it's working Well I'm the coolest of the cool and they call me Akil Hip-hop fanatic busting lyrical windmills And I'm the international king of all things Creates the ill scene shades for Robin to bring I'm funky fresh, I got style and finesse And if the roof's on fire put the pen to the paper A fade with the J it's the live motivator And from shore to shore and from sea to sea And everwhere that we go we're in the place to be Like that, rock the house To my man Cut Chemist, rocks the house To my man Charlie 2na, rocks the house And to my brother Nu-Mark, rocks the house And to my man Marc 7even, rocks the house And to my brother Hani, rocks the house And to my brother Kalil, rocks the house And to my brother Faru, turning it out Now the world don't move to the beat of just one drum So it might be right for you, it might not be right for some So come one, come all (hey) big or small Cause I'm guaranteed to rock y'all out of your drawers Biting MC's always get lockjaw I'm not Volume T, but I'm harder than all y'all And just in case you forget the way we will be rocking it One time prime time flowing with the fatness Many shades of skin cream, hip styles of blackness Match this, never practice makes perfect Sharp like the edge on a blade that's curved Serve this Yes, but only when fresh So you don't have to guess the R-E-B-E-L-S Dip dip diver, socializer On the rise, the committee's wiser and will disguise the truth Of the matter we're sick of the idle chatter The data we pitter patter we'll splatter just like a platter Infected uncontrollably, follow me, come on go with me Cause you know it be Tuna and Marc 7even Heaven does await us, put here to sedate us Make us in His image with with glimmage Never perfect we're tripping, by a force unseen But we divulged its presence, so this rap goes back to the essence Lessons have been written from the end, but you're soon to see Kalil in community, rebels of rhythm unity Yeah, and you don't stop You got the rhythm that makes your fingers pop [Repeat 2x] It goes 1 2 3, 3 2 1 An apple to a pear to a peach to a plum Listen to the drum, does it make your ears numb Here it comes, here it comes, here it kiddy comes comes I'm independent, good to the limit Never in my life been to the VD clinic Salute me but I'm not a lieutenant Down with Nu-Mark and my man Cut Chemist My name is Marc 7even, yes indeed And ain't another MC that can touch my tree Down with unity and the rebels three Grab the microphone and release your seed And the formula for me to get bent And the spot was never hit if I didn't leave a fingerprint X the fact with colonial combat Eating steak and other shit in the house of wax And uh like don't ever think of jacking me Never gun-packing because that if I like to begin With not a dimwit angry over somewhat (why) Brothers keep holding me back, I'm about to go nuts, man Niggas know I paid my dues and shit I'm about to blow the fuck up because I refuse to quit And this one is dedicated to the crews that bit I'm about to blow the fuck up because I refuse to quit I'm tired of keeping my trust and getting used and shit I'm about to blow the fuck up because I refuse to quit It doesn't matter who's fatter, who's wack, or who's legit I'm about to blow the fuck up because I refuse to quit

My Mind Playin' Tricks On Me

KOTTONMOUTH KINGS "Hidden Stash II: The Kream Of The Krop"
Hey hit this motherfucker Hit that shit, hit that bitch It's 4:20.. We got love.. Is this motherfucker on At night i can't sleep, i toss and turn Chronic sticks in the door Visions of bongs being burned D-loc just call me a stoner A paranoid smoker with my finger on my poker People puffin stress aint living right But i aint going out without my pipe See every time I pull a load, i start sweatin, smoke starts coming out my nose There's somebody slaggin some sacks But i don't know who it is so I'm watching my back It's a cop and he's deep undercover When i toke i wont see the motherfuckers Caddy like our own A sack of fruit and a bong like my own Some might say, take a chill D But fuck that shit there's a pig trying to diss me I popped in the rip of my indo Every 20 seconds i be smoking another bowl Investigating joints for traps Checkin my herb for a branch I'm staring at my girl on the corner It's fucked up when my mind's playing tricks on her I got a big afro I drive old cars Ain't nobody roll like me It's like I'm a movie star But late at night something ain't right Somebody's coming in and they taking all my grow lights Is it that dude tryin' to steal all my crops Or could it be the one that sold the hydroponic rocks Or is it that one claimin' he had the power Tryin' to grow herb but it was hemp pure and flower Reach under my seat grabbed ain't no use to me They were than a motherfucker Transplant complete and i told them all 65 days and that shit will be done with Ounce nugs just like i figured Cannabis cup, kings blend is the winner And what i saw make your head start wrigglin Three rip cripplin stoney senior citizens I live by the bud I take my clones everywhere i go because I'm paranoid I keep looking over my shoulder, peeping around corners My mind's playing tricks on me Day by day its more impossible to cope Daddy X smokin off pounds of dope Can't keep a steady hand because I'm nervous Slanging buds, got a door to door service Knee deep in the motherfuckin business Cold hearted with no room for forgiveness I got about 3 in each prop 215 fuckin me down in O.C. The punk claimed that he knew Johnny Richter Something about his x girl that he dicked her I got phat sounds in my ride Way too many friends that have died I got a baby girl to look after I play the role like a motherfuckin actor Big daddy plant seeds in my wife Plan on being down for life Got the baddest bitch in the whole city With 2 fat big brown big ass titties And they the types i be suckin on D-loc come and pack up my zong My motherfucking sacks' getting lonely My minds playing tricks on me I'm feeling high my sacks getting lonely Goddamn homie, my minds playing tricks on me This year 420 fell on a weekend Kottonmouth Kings is trick or treating Robbin' little kids for sacks got behind our ass Broke the fuck out and said late Skate to my house sucker sittin down by my gate We were in for a session no doubt Reached in my pocket you know what i pulled out The G13 then the zong was delivered But this battle just called for something bigger A bong about six or seven feet A specialty piece i envisioned in my sleep Pulled out the triple beam on em Dropping them motherfuckin Gs on em The more i smoke the more high i grew Then he disappeared and my boys disappeared too Then i felt just like fiend The shit was brown, man it wasn't even green I was high as fuck in the street And to top it all off i broke my zong on the concrete Goddamn homie, my mind is playing tricks on me

My Lifestyle

FAT JOE "Jealous Ones Still Envy"
[background] (Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'ma show you gangsta) [lapses over] Yeah...ughh...right back at you motherfuckers....ughh...yeah.. [Verse 1] Yo, Yo, I stand alone in this cold world, could you believe that I've seen some good men get blown over G-packs In the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap And live niggaz get it on with the D-techs, SHIT, my life's legendary If I wrote down all in a book it would be very scary What you know 16 be missin' Benzes Rope chain down to my dick, the beef looks tremendous Me and my niggaz flip holes in bitches Back then, when I wouldn't even pose for bitches A-YO, you can ask dapadan who was the man Back in 88, every other week tricked 30 grand Even my bitches wore Gucci and Louie My peeps already in the crowd looking for groupies to screw me Exit the club, about to cruise up the block now with the taj, stay frontin' with top down See me in that new thing with my fiancee Ass so fat, making you say 'Muchos GRANDE' Don't blame me, blame them, the white folk for giving me ten mil, for possessin' the tight flow WHOA [Chorus: repeat 2X] Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'm show you gangsta [Verse 2 (lapse over chorus)] Yeah, yeah, uh, yo, blow half your head off, leave you with brain damage He got his shit rocked cause he didn't pay homage It's the Don of this rap shit, go on with that wack shit Heard you walked the dorm in a thong on your last bid Joey Crack is, the most official Toke the pistol for those who appose the issue I hope I convinced you to back up, really you acted up, believe me I could EASILY GET YOUR ASS TOUCHED And that sucks, ain't nobody could fuck with this Bullet shook could make you take a bucket of piss For runnin' your lips Got the fifth stuck in your ribs, don't make me... splash your lungs right in front of your kids I'm a basketcase, don't ever give this bastard space or I'ma have your ass erased I'm from the Bronx amongst corrupt cops, we mothered this rap shit But still don't get enough props All I hear is 'Gangsta' you ain't build like that Don't make me have to pull a tool and really tilt your cap I'm from crills to crack You've been dealin' with rap You ain't never run the streets, now I'm revealing your act What the fuck [Chorus: repeat 2X] Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'm show you gangsta

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