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JIM JONES lyrics - F.E.A.S.T.: Vampire Life 2

Forgive

Original and similar lyrics
I tell 'em welcome to the main attraction Where these niggas let these bitches be their main distraction I've been known to make these white girls wet And I could show you how these white girls stretch No bit cramp, sunlight heated yoga Just a stove in a pot and I need some soda There's a party in my watch, I don't need promoters Got the transparent hood, you could see the motor Huh, apparently she's a deep-throater And they tell me watch my language cause I speak vulgar In a cold so hot it's hard to come up Tried hard to make it home before the girl left at sun up I swear to God, all the cars like I hunt up They got the game now and gets us like 1 up The game even, it ain't easy I've seen niggas still lose the chip to San Seezy Get on my knees and pray (knees and pray) day and night I move on, I make it right The success don't come over night We're vampires, we own the night I came from nothing, now my money right Turned up into something, now my niggas tight This for my niggas, they never see the light Just keep your head up, they ain't vampin right It hurt my heart to see my man working 9 to 5 He was the man, you got the grams from a '95 As I recall, in my brand new 95's 'Nore the sweats, tryna get my hands on the pie I cut the grams like a samurai Had the narcs taking flicks like I'm camera shy I used to make love to a Gemini A couple friends of mine, they are now my frenemies Want to see the enemy, I guess they are my enemies Shit, but it's like a distant memory Cause, it's mazel tov in the world dog In all the simplest problems you get hold off Have you praying the dogs get called off Used to dribble through the night like a ball court So I pay to live this life, bitch by all cost So I pay the live this life, bitch by all cost Get on my knees and pray (knees and pray) day and night I move on, I make it right The success don't come over night We're vampires, we own the night I came from nothing, now my money right Turned up into something, now my niggas tight This for my niggas, they never see the light Just keep your head up, they here if something bright Roof as clear as the air that is blue Took 'er to the roof with the aerial view That's when she showed her venereal view While I'm smoking loud like the stereo blew It's the glamorous life Where we roll around with the hammers in sight Cause most niggas ain't seen a hundred grand in their sight Pop bottles in the club at a credit scammer's price A gutter nigga made mills and burned 'em Still got a couple mills burning IRS told me 8 mill returnin So I burn another blunt, in my Ferrari wheels turnin' I love a pretty bitch in some platforms In the back of the back with the back drawn Peter C's got 'er back warm R Kelly CD, repeat action I was just in the lobby with the Mack drawn Having nightmares a nigga comin' back for 'em But they say that's not likely though Just like they said I'm not likely to blow

Black Jesus

GHOSTFACE KILLAH "Ironman"
(feat. Raekwon and U-God) [Raekwon:] Hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me I don't wanna here nuttin' Word Up, got to pay Yeah, Its like that right Blow his Back out, make his shoes work Aye Yo, this shit be off the knock it rock whatever cock block it Cat get blown, who own this street corner, foreigner hesitate to rock a Hummer Navy Seal top runner, rhyme this summer For real, marinatin' nigga's skatin' debatin' waitin' style flowinly relatin' Fine line switch it on ya like venetian blinds the mission is mine, fabulous king I devine Titanium Hydro collado, Yo dunn dunn polly dis conjunction Son what, slang doctor, Medicaid the kids pay it say if these niggas in affect dunn, stay rap related Cassette rhymer, 5-G co-signer, line for liner Poet designer, sharp like liners Mic of the year award, fly gear award them niggas over there be analyzing for one sword Get bent, pay the rent, plus still we invent nuff shit to get your whole team crazily sent Now all I need is a half gallon of weed Proceed, to bust as Mike Ditka made three seeds then Max out like two Ack's inside the parking lot son Bark a lot and get seen hit in that dark a lot what now blow, clickin' like a calico gold maxmillion, one love keep it real yo [Ghostface Killah:] Yo, hit me for these Tommy Hill, Ice rockin niggas Peace, the summers mine, I blow the biggest Back up off me, while I grab my dick and hold the Heini Park the Blue 600, Wally kings is right behind me Tackle clubs, never rock Lugz, I'm way above This mic is like golden gloves verses spark plug Its like the pennant, Seminars the Play-off Start the J off like Cochran got OJ off The Specialist who eyeballed the mistress necklace Perpetuous, this curly head kid's treturous Leggo the Eggo, so we can dip dip dive the gleego Throwin' can-can, eat that plus this instrumental Awwww Shit say Stark-aligist, Starks-aligist Fried fish halibut pull out the bull horn and celebrate like Kunta was born we elbowed our way inside loud and got on I played the building, burn a branch and get filled in Like Pilgrims G-in' Pepridge farms from out a million who wanna rhyme who wanna challenge the swordsman that rock that fisherman hat like Gorden's [U-God:] I hose down the place No shots to the face Elite Special force no religion style faith The meltin' pot boil gun shot drama soil Gamble when I scramble handle hot pots of oil Man handle brain killin' erect my hidden Streets may be potent put your 9-6 bid in Vampire Curse disperse on each verse Swim in black water, act slaughter through my earth You're hit by my element Great Wall of China Mountain Peak hold the globe like vagina Measure on my mic stand, molecule and strand Finger rollin' rhythm ride the horse one hand Golden Eye, Spy vs. Spy, guilty of suspicion Chess boxer, mic in dead body position 40 oz. Ciga-art, three verse invented divine universal black man representin' Similar the pure, rhyme blowin out the pore Battery in the back, keep it charged for the raw I'm bred type thorough, pistol lyro gun hero renaissance rebel shadow boxin your barrel Fully woven Beethoven, hit you on a humble hard enough to hurt you, chastise my rap styles Lock down, for this curfew

Shit Is Real Pt. III

FAT JOE "Loyalty"
[Intro: Fat Joe] Slow motion baby, unh Tell you what I see through these eyes All we do is speak the truth Shit is realla then real Shit is realla then real My true niggas walk wit me, yeah They ride wit me, cook pies wit me, ya heard [Fat Joe] Lord I keep hollering, I hope you listening How come I'm still stressed and even though the squad's glistening Why you had to take Pun, someone so young Had so much more to live for, as real as they come Dead man can't talk that's why your hearing one side of the story But did they tell you how he provided for forty family members, grandmas to shorties Even my seeds ate off the big homie How could you deceive your kids like that Make 'em believe they dad wasn't worth jack Listen to the facts as The Don pours his heart on this track How could I jus stand there and not react And I'm jus about sick of all you side line niggas You know, do anything for the lime light niggas I'm defending your honor, my brother from anotha momma I never thought I'd see the day they tried to send you byna [Chorus: Fat Joe] Shit is realla then you think, man you must not know It takes a lot to walk a day in the life of Fat Joe The place I'm from, MTV don't wanna film Jus a simple dice game will get a muthafucka killed The ghetto ain't a place that you wanna take lightly Same cat that'll spill you, will end up with your wifey I've seen it all that's why I've picked up the pen To keep your boy from serving life in the pen, ya heard [Fat Joe] Fuck, the flu season, nowadays it's sue season Can't even go to the clubs and show my people love Cuz soon as shit pop off niggas knuckle love Niggas accusing me of fuckin 'em up! I'm like 'hold up, ain't they supposed to be dogs' Part time live niggas dabbeling drugs See a rapper think of a lucrative deal But youse a bitch if you choosing to squeel It's more than obvious you don't know a thing about honor But what goes around comes around, you'll soon learn about comma As for me I stay being the realest Admired by politicans, street thugs and killers I keep feeding the street but the street feed back Is that police tryna see Joe back in green slacks But never dat, see I keep long money and if you looking for dat you'll never see a cent from me [Chorus] [Fat Joe] Yo, unh, I stay grinding, everybody counted me out Now I'm rewinding in my summer beach house If I'm not in the studio I'm out on tour Busting my ass to make my fans future secure Nowadays everybody want somethin for nothin All of a sudden niggas talkin like 'Joey be frontin' The hood screaming Crack done changed, he don't holla I know now Big, Mo Money Mo Problems Jealousy's a muthafucka Who'd a thought the same niggas you be feeding be the muthafuckaz coming for ya I'm not stressin, I was born a warrior Plus I'm too big, too strong, too wise for ya When it's all said and done I follow my dreams Could have ended up dead or in jail given the scheme of things To let chu know I'm the reason you still walkin If I said something it was me, not the liquor talkin [Chorus]

Answers

Lootpack "Soundpieces: Da Antidote!"
[Madlib] This nigga take it back like blacksploitation flicks And afros where niggas trying to catch this shit I was uhh , three years ago, If you didn't know that we keep it fresh like douche If you didn't know, y'all need that extra push (when y'all up on the mic) We're rushing through with raw delight We're dropping that shit while y'all niggas bite Speaking 'bout ya copycats (ya copycats) Ya weak beats and ya sloppy raps (ya sloppy raps) We come though spreading light While ya weak lyrics spread negative hype We kicking true forms of music, sketches of sound increase Niggas try to stop the force, (you know we on course) Thinking that they have the source (when ya catch 'em, show 'em no remorse) [Wild Child] Hey man, I've got a question for you, Can you feel me? Speaking on you wack MC's Ya saying Not really , that's cuz I cut ya hands off Time to set the story straight, brothers looking for their fate You was that nerd fake cat who went to school at Lamda Lamda Trying not to recite the rhymes so you bite the poems I slap your lip, so you talk sideways like Sly Stallone Face the truth, my fists are guided to knock your left tooth Lyrically, ya moms rhymes better than you and she's deaf mute Step two times to the left, throw up ya fists Direct 'em towards those wack MC's please as I reminisce You might have more dollars than you have common sense The LP's stand ground like Hercules Let's take that fake cat, break back and make black People around the world realize they trying to play us like 8-track I formulate rhymes to educate all those who's killing Music be the only way to express how I'm feeling Ya conniving like Clinton, with more nerve than, Judge Judy You'd be a good ass looking girl because ya rhymes sound booty [Madlib] But on that subject, on talking bout ya wack MC's Ya comin' like counterfeit (phony) But back in the days y'all wasn't no killas, gambinos, or gangsta G's Y'all up on some other shit, (Talkin' bout ya shooting off clips) Yo, we waiting for the Mothership, But most of y'all niggas is the reason that half of us brothers have split (Yo, it's a damn shame) You know I'm kicking true to the game You know I am to keep it real Like my nigga Kaz, I'm letting off battle drills I'm your replacement (replacement) Madlib up in the basement (Madlib up in the basement) [Wild Child] Now on that subject,(What you talkin' about, cat?) talking 'bout ya wack MC's We drop a soundpiece, we keep it, we keep it, we keep it real Not like them fake gangsta G's I rock the mic and strike while dictating light I'm peaking, you keep weakening like Kryptonite Yo, what I'm tired of, absence of the High Above Niggas riot up, and then blame it on the blaze they've fired up So I'm bringing back something that was never lost Cuz you know we can't just forget about them peeps who's strictly conscious The 8-0-5 niggas got soul like Kato When you swing I'll block blows, rock roll the cradle So, ay yo, on beats I'm like the Tazmanian Tornado Wild Child live from the 5 that be 8-0!

20 Questions

Lootpack "Soundpieces: Da Antidote!"
[Madlib] This nigga take it back like blacksploitation flicks And afros where niggas trying to catch this shit I was uhh three years ago If you didn't know that we keep it fresh like douche If you didn't know y'all need that extra push (when y'all up on the mic) We're rushing through with raw delight We're dropping that shit while y'all niggas bite Speaking 'bout ya copycats (ya copycats) Ya weak beats and ya sloppy raps (ya sloppy raps) We come though spreading light While ya weak lyrics spread negative hype We kicking true forms of music, sketches of sound increase Niggas try to stop the force, (you know we on course) Thinking that they have the source (when ya catch 'em, show 'em no remorse) [Wild Child] Hey man, I've got a question for you, Can you feel me? Speaking on you wack MC's Ya saying Not really , that's cuz I cut ya hands off Time to set the story straight, brothers looking for their fate You was that nerd fake cat who went to school at Lamda Lamda Trying not to recite the rhymes so you bite the poems I slap your lip, so you talk sideways like Sly Stallone Face the truth, my fists are guided to knock your left tooth Lyrically, ya moms rhymes better than you and she's deaf mute Step two times to the left, throw up ya fists Direct 'em towards those wack MC's please as I reminisce You might have more dollars than you have common sense The LP's stand ground like Hercules Let's take that fake cat, break back and make black People around the world realize they trying to play us like 8-track I formulate rhymes to educate all those who's killing Music be the only way to express how I'm feeling Ya conniving like Clinton, with more nerve than, Judge Judy You'd be a good ass looking girl because ya rhymes sound booty [Madlib] But on that subject, on talking bout ya wack MC's Ya comin' like counterfeit (phony) But back in the days y'all wasn't no killas, gambinos, or gangsta G's Y'all up on some other shit, (Talkin' bout ya shooting off clips) Yo, we waiting for the Mothership, But most of y'all niggas is the reason that half of us brothers have split (Yo, it's a damn shame) You know I'm kicking true to the game You know I am to keep it real Like my nigga Kaz, I'm letting off battle drills I'm your replacement (replacement) Madlib up in the basement (Madlib up in the basement) [Wild Child] Now on that subject,(What you talkin' about, cat?) talking 'bout ya wack MC's We drop a soundpiece, we keep it, we keep it, we keep it real Not like them fake gangsta G's I rock the mic and strike while dictating light I'm peaking, you keep weakening like Kryptonite Yo, what I'm tired of, absence of the High Above Niggas riot up, and then blame it on the blaze they've fired up So I'm bringing back something that was never lost Cuz you know we can't just forget about them peeps who's strictly conscious The 8-0-5 niggas got soul like Kato When you swing I'll block blows, rock roll the cradle So, ay yo, on beats I'm like the Tazmanian Tornado Wild Child live from the 5 that be 8-0!

125 Part 3 (Connections)

JOELL ORTIZ "The Brick: Bodega Chronicles"
[Sample:] "I don't know what I'm gonna do." [Ras Kass:] Huh. I do. Get low. Ha Bar none When I spit a bar, I spit a [?] Hennessy, Hypnotic Patron, Couroisier Grey Goose I grill niggas, spit a barbecue Committing drive-bys out a grey Coupe When I start drowning rappers, dawg It ain't cute Till every person in they group turn blue like they Snoop Watch face blue, but I'm grimey duke I like most of y'all niggas better in your shiney suits At the hood, after hours, when I'm on the loose Cause I hang with troops like Sadaam on the noose So fuck what y'all trying to pass off as the truth I done jumped from the earth and touched the Universe's roof Crash landed back on planet like meteor Dust off my white tee and lift Lamborghini doors I keep me a meaty whore Trini in bikini, apple martini whore Y'all niggas is CB4 My niggas in CDC Bounty hunter ECG Dipping Newports into PCP Give a mic to me is UFC on Spike TV Niggas talk gangsta shit but he ain't one Till he see that gun and realize nobody really love you Like New York on VH1 I'm the ghetto experiment Pop in at any son Me and the project, project, projecting objects at anyone Blackjack bitches, that's 21 Dare any nigga to be a dollar and see You want the king of the west then holler at me [Joell Ortiz:] Who's been eating? I haven't daddy Just been the booth's Houdini, working my magic scrappy Industry jabbing at me I'm just trying to keep my marriage happy But the politics and the games driving me crazy like an Arab cabbie Still I never quit Def Jam's president, from up the block, around the corner Down the street, where I'm selling it Who said, "Joell is sick"? Man I'm on the deathbed I wrote this on the bedspread, with IV in my wrist I am him The product of a moms who got high and a father who ain't say "bye" to them His family that is Know that y'all can never break me Look in my eyes, listen up guys... don't make me Only a rookie in the game's eyes Been doing this since I was yeeh high It's alright to be shook I will turn the first album into a library book C'mon let's skim through the pages in my diary, look 18 I rock those stretchers 19 I dropped a 12 inch Rawkus Records, that's when I hooked up with G. Rap It's nothing, bang Y'all heard the streets feedback At 25 I'm the outcome of everything between that [Sha Stimuli:] Y'all know I'm everything y'all want to be I do the shit you never do I feel it when you look at me I'd kill myself if I was you You See, but luckily I'm not I used to run in labels like, "You should fuck with me I'm hot." By now I could have sold some mills and showed that I was so for real While your roster fucked around like Lauren Hill's Let me stop, I ain't hating on nobody It's like the whole world is waiting on somebody They say that I'm the obvious replacement I just say this shit's a hobby Lot of new rappers waiting in the lobby But I'm coming up Me and Joell, do it so well Niggas either want to throw shells or ride on our coattails Oh well Go tell someone I'm coming I'm sonning niggas without touching they mother There's no one above me I told y'all that I was a problem Rappers started studying me like they could solve it Listen close I got a 9 times 5 I pop 3 times 2 Add drama, take away your respect and divide you In half, for your math I do this til I'm through Living life, breathing breath, I bring death to your whole crew I don't know if there's a better MC Some people get better with time, I say the getting better with me I got, I got my rhymes tight, the streets gave Sha light Now you see me holding C-Notes like the Chi-Lites It's The Present motherfucker [Grafh:] I got one happy soldiers, esse that clappy clappy toaster That turn you brains into nasty tapioca Ewwww Then I hop back on over To drop autograph while I'm autographing a poster I'm in the cut like Chains stashed in a sofa I'm Hennessy straight, you a pretty ass glass of mimosa You a bum, I caught you trying to go half on a soda You make the change, I use the stash in my loafer So it don't matter what I pack in a holster Cause I slash you till I scratch the plaque off the back of your molar It'll cut through the back of a boulder Owwww Got a pack full of sodas with a bag of explosives And they clapping them toasters that can detach your back from your shoulders After I blow your little daughter out the back of her stroller And the ricochet will blow her back in the stroller Cause that gat caliber has the motor out the back of a roaster Vrrrom Get drunk and try to spaz you joker Till I punch you in your face and move your back tooth over I'll knock 'em down your throat You gag, you choke up Then I bet by the time your lungs collapse, you sober Breathe easy Back don't ya I'm a crack donor So my tax write off is a crack smoker Aaaayyyyye I ain't battling no one so don't bring a challenger over If I wanted a challenger I'd battle my poster [Gab Gotcha:] I ain't never met a thug that my slugs ain't like I never met one who lived or walked straight, when they all hit right Head or the back you parents are attending a mass Centered around that box wood, lacquered in black With you you laying stiff in the cushion While I'm pushing a 'Lac, past the church while your family's looking Over your face, me driving over the bridge With coke in a space sealed by placing a switch If life is a bitch then she fuck me nice Boxed up for seven joints now she pregnant, bout to birth me yikes My first born at least, VS1 My seed cultivating, that love grow out of weed and concealed guns Triple beam lust Finger fucking them grams that make twins out of one of my hand My connect away set me apart The potential to flood it like when Noah finished building the Ark Colombian Moving coke is an art If Michelangelo was Pablo, Gab Gotcha gotta be Picasso I rock flows and crush rocks for your nostrils Clutch glocks that pop when that blow make you hostile [?] or I unload a clip And siamese twin your head and the lobby Silicone tips makes less sizzle Implants in your chest like fake tits, holes size of your nipples Nigga Gab Gotcha. Crown City nigga.

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