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JON BELLION lyrics - The Separation

Eyes To The Sky

Original and similar lyrics
[Verse 1:] (Oh yeah) Anxiety dances... across my pillow case, my God it dances It's like, 1, 2 step It's asking stupid questions Like "are you living right?" Such stupid questions Because I'm just trying to I'm trying live, I'm trying rise, above the shit, the devil tries Which is why I keep my eyes to the sky [Hook:] I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.insert something really dope right here I'm supposed to write a hook but all I wanna say is I just want to be happy... (I just want to be happy)... want to be happy (eh yeah) I'm supposed to write a f'in hook right here Money and riches blah blah yeah yeah I just want to be happy... (I just want to be happy)... want to be happy (eh yeah) [Verse 2:] I've been working my ass off That's why Christina left me, been working my ass off On this project, but I guess that it's okay My family never liked you, I guess that it's okay Now I'm just I'm just I'm trying live I'm trying rise Above the shit the devil tries Which is why I keep my eyes to the sky [Hook] [Verse 3:] Listen boo boo, bear with me (yeah) Smarter than your average Raised around Brooklyn based Italian There's so much soul up in my Johnson, I don't need a rapper on it Because the urbans in my testes but I come and pop packaging (yikes) Bunch of pricks talk shit, we call that cactusing We don't want no fight club don't want no Brad Pitt'in Braymance like this shit just when I'm ad-libbin' Fronting on my Sean Penn what movie are you actin in? Seventh grade I said "I'm bout to leave the masses then" My ex-girlfriend's sister said "you babbling" Even back then cook crack, drug trafficking [Outro:] I'm trying live, I'm trying rise, above the shit, the devil tries Which is why I keep my eyes to the sky (You're gonna be okay kid, you're gonna be, O-Kay)

What Up

BUSTA RHYMES "It Ain't Safe No More..."
[scratched: 'It's the new!!'] Yeah! Yeah, Busta Bust down, Flipmode now I know what y'all feel like doin Go 'head and crash your whip in the fuckin wall It's cool, niggaz.. we gets busy [Verse One] Fo' sho', spit rogue, get mo' bout to kick in the door Dick sore, split whores 'til they shit on the floor Clique more sick from when you use to see us before Shit, kill a nigga quick, niggaz know my rapport Keep workers on the strip that be ready for war Brick I flip a little quicker if they shit in the store Rip, maybe 'til they drop, and they shit in they drawers Shit crazy when I pop, and I'm grippin the four Thick bitches in the spot, watch 'em strip for the sport Spit vicious for the block, yeah we swingin a torch Stick niggaz for they shit, thank 'em for they support Quick nigga, better quit snitchin down at the court Check track a little slick and try to go on my Forbes Cause we stackin like we rich, and we holdin the fort This time, we had to bring it, guess what we brought The hottest shit to bang from L.A. to the streets of New York [Chorus] All my people, get drunk, get high - WHATTUP Get money, get rich, get fly - WHATTUP Get stupid, get busy, get live - WHATTUP Jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive - WHATTUP Make a mill' yeah we gon' make about five - WHATTUP We speak the truth and we ain't talkin no jive - WHATTUP I'm speakin to the streets and everybody's widdit - WHATTUP Once again you know we only come to get it - WHATTUP [Verse Two] AOWWWWWWW!! Ha, I stay wicked now I'm back on the strip Like I went on a vacation and I'm back from my trip Nuff radio rotation like I'm sailin a ship Or when the team circle the block, busy trailin my clique Truck packed fulla niggaz with the strap and the whip Get the gat out of the stash, put it back on my hip Gat butt you in the face, split and fatten your lip Blood hit the floor louder than the clap when it drip I credit your name with bullets, read the back of the script My victim's initials engraved on the back of the clip Chicks love the way we roll, how the movement is thick So official like my name's on the back of your bitch Pay triple for the name on the back of the stitch Name like the whole city now I'm changin the pitch Kick back kinda crazy when I'm holdin the fifth Think you nicer than the God, shit is only a myth Grab ahold of the masses, I was born with a gift Niggaz be runnin they trap, throw 'em over the cliff Thinkin and drinkin the Guinness, busy holdin the spliff Flippin and shittin on niggaz 'til we old and we stiff I don't even drive whips, throw the shit on the lift 12 hours, one worker do the whole of the shift I do the thing to make you open your mouth And give you shit to bang the Midwest and the rest of the South [Chorus]

Bad Boy For Life

P. DIDDY "The Saga Continues"
(feat. Black Rob, Mark Curry) [P. Diddy] Aiyyo, you ready Let's do it [music starts] Mmm, yeah, uhh.. Yeah, uhh.. c'mon I'm the definition of, half man, half drugs Ask the clubs, Bad Boy - that's whassup After bucks, crush cruise after us No gaze, we ain't laughin much Nothin but big thangs, check the hitlist How we twist shit, what change but the name We still here, you rockin wit the best Don't worry if I write rhymes, I write checks (ahh!) Who's the boss Dudes is lost Don't think cause I'm iced out, I'ma cool off Who else but me (who else) And if you don't feel me that mean you can't touch me, it's ugly, trust me Get it right dawg, we ain't ever left We just, moved in silence and rep to the death (yeah) It's official, I survived what I been through Y'all got drama, 'The Saga Continues...' [Chorus] We ain't, go-in nowhere, we ain't, goin nowhere We can't be stopped now, cause it's Bad Boy for life We ain't, go-in nowhere, we ain't, goin nowhere We can't be stopped now, cause it's Bad Boy for life [Black Rob] Aiyyo strait from the Harlem streets I don't play, I push it down wit the Harlem Heat (uh-huh) All a sudden niggaz got a problem wit me (Black, what happened) They run around actin like the black don't care eat And you know what (what) For some strange reason (uhh) I want this medication full of deranged eatin For y'all to put the word out (c'mon, c'mon) we ain't leavin We tryin to be rich before we do stop breathin Then fall (what) we kinda hustle lanes Stay layin down on muscle games (c'mon) Still turn niggaz dreams to flames (yeah) You got the wire, if not I ain't sayin no more names You soon expire; (heh) no pain (nuh-uh) I feel remorse, the shit causes me and Diddy up first Racin Porsches wit the beat swing vaul exhausters [screeching] (yeah) On the cover of ya five (hehe) XXL's or (yeah) Source's (c'mon) bitch [Chorus] [Mark Curry] Yeah, yeah, yo, yeah It ain't shit changed, since the Notorious (We miss you B.I.G.) See everything still glorious (yeah) We still got Oreos, still be the victorious (that's right) See it's a lot of them, but it's more of us Still got cash to blow, raps that flow Still them cats that know, pack ya flow That's fo' sho', bottles that pop Joints that rock, play the background Hand 'em a jock, hold 'em a glock (hahaha) Money to get (yeah), cars to flip (uhh) Bars to sit at and sip Cogniac wit Jews that drink (c'mon) Hoes to see (uhh), make sure they knowin it's me (they know ya shit) Drop that beat, can't believe that I MC (haha) Bad Boy 'til the casket drop (Bad Boy) Gotta love it, place nuttin above it (nuttin) It's on like that (c'mon), don't believe, we ain't goin like that For always gonna be here (yeah), be there (uhh) Every (what) motherfuckers here! [Chorus - 2X] [P. Diddy over Chorus] Bad Boy.. we ain't goin nowhere Uh-huh.. uh-huh.. what We ain't goin nowhere.. we gon' stay right here For ever, and ever, and ever, and ever.. c'mon We ain't goin nowhere.. we gon' stay right here We ain't goin nowhere.. we gon' stay right here Yeah, uh-huh.. uh-huh, uh-huh Cause it's Bad Boy for life!

Show 'Em What They Won

ST. LUNATICS "Free City"
(Ali) Yeah, yeah, check, check See I ain't about playin, Leezy 'bout cash in advance Cash in on the casual, actual, factual plan Makin a killin man, went from that to makin a livin Rightous willin, the only thing supreme swimmin And proceed, to not smoke weed around the seed It's the new way, new life, peace true indeed, off T's I dwell on off how y'all plan makin mo' money, so I had to buy a fly chain Ran in this game, dirt broke, now it's MTV with Kurt Lod' With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle You the type of niggas puffin in shirts, socks and sandels Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me Fall wit' me, this pure mic dope I'm sellin It's the man with mellow rap, felon, constantly yellin yo ma! (Nelly) Uh, uh, uh, uh What's it like bein Nelly, ay, let me break it down It's like a shootout and you the only nigga wit' rounds It's like a weed drought and you the only nigga wit' pounds It's like a Freaknik and you got the only brothers in town I'm like a shoe-in, for the poster boy, the thug of the year GQ style ma', let me put a bug in your err (ear) Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear) Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?) (That's gotta be illegal, Bob!) I can bring them chrome things for that drastic shit Metal detectors, no problem, got that plastic shit Witnessess, I ain't seen 'em, they had masks and shit Whoever it was, was in a rush 'cause they was fast and quick Oh, I'm just a playa, mo', these ain't my rules Peep game, I'm wearin Jordans, summer these my shoes I'm like the heir to the throne Me and my niggas fastbreak through your home, get ya coach on the phone Tell 'em go'on (Chorus) Show 'em what they won, a short stay at the hotel, Bob Show 'em what they won, Alize, Mo', Crissy or ale, Bob Show 'em what they won, Murphy Lee, Key or Nell, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob Show 'em what they won, two to the head, left on the curb, Bob Show 'em what they won, leavin they mama's feelins hurt, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won (Kyjuan) Ay yo, Bob, they want Keyjuan, the one who gets the job done Keep huns screamin Keyjuan-na-na On the block I Rule like Ja, in the sun like Wa Me and mine at the mall spendin grands like Cool Bob See I'm a Ruger shooter, don't make me have to do ya Boo-ya, you see what Lunatics'll do to ya Tip-??? pursuer, get 'er in a room and do 'er First cat out the Lou that you knew that Wore a lime-green headband, matchin leather pants Vokal t-shirt with some sparklin wristbands This man, he keeps it real sweet With somethin sweeter than sweet, puffin on Swisher Sweets I'm unique, like a blue??? bird without the beak I'm deep, like bucket seats when the 'tics hit the streets Pick door number three if your price is right I'll pull a DJ Quik tonite is the night (Murphy Lee) Hold on, so I can tell 'em who I is, a young school boy with one kid I think I'm five-eight, but yo, maybe I'm five-six With my boots off, I prefer my booties in boots off You get in my bed, you better take pants, shoes off Now, and not right now but right now! And I ain't backin down, she can get up and bounce The Young Dude, quick to roll up an ounce and head south Don't even have drive, I can sit on the couch And wrap somethin, and put on a beat and rap somethin They call me Mr. get all mad and smack somethin I'm wild dude, you could probably find me on side two If not I'm a holla like Ja Rule, get a dollar from my boo And go and by a juice or somethin A virgin rapper, I ain't gettin loose for nothin Money earnin rapper, I ain't got no boots for nothin So I'm servin rappers, I be cookin when I'm comin (Chorus) 2x ¡¡

Show 'em What You Won

NELLY "Intro"
(Ali) Yeah, yeah, check, check See I ain't about playin, Leezy 'bout cash in advance Cash in on the casual, actual, factual plan Makin a killin man, went from that to makin a livin Rightous willin, the only thing supreme swimmin And proceed, to not smoke weed around the seed It's the new way, new life, peace true indeed, off T's I dwell on off how y'all plan makin mo' money, so I had to buy a fly chain Ran in this game, dirt broke, now it's MTV with Kurt Lod' With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle You the type of niggas puffin in shirts, socks and sandels Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me Fall wit' me, this pure mic dope I'm sellin It's the man with mellow rap, felon, constantly yellin yo ma! (Nelly) Uh, uh, uh, uh What's it like bein Nelly, ay, let me break it down It's like a shootout and you the only nigga wit' rounds It's like a weed drought and you the only nigga wit' pounds It's like a Freaknik and you got the only brothers in town I'm like a shoe-in, for the poster boy, the thug of the year GQ style ma', let me put a bug in your err (ear) Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear) Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?) (That's gotta be illegal, Bob!) I can bring them chrome things for that drastic shit Metal detectors, no problem, got that plastic shit Witnessess, I ain't seen 'em, they had masks and shit Whoever it was, was in a rush 'cause they was fast and quick Oh, I'm just a playa, mo', these ain't my rules Peep game, I'm wearin Jordans, summer these my shoes I'm like the heir to the throne Me and my niggas fastbreak through your home, get ya coach on the phone Tell 'em go'on (Chorus) Show 'em what they won, a short stay at the hotel, Bob Show 'em what they won, Alize, Mo', Crissy or ale, Bob Show 'em what they won, Murphy Lee, Key or Nell, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob Show 'em what they won, two to the head, left on the curb, Bob Show 'em what they won, leavin they mama's feelins hurt, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won (Kyjuan) Ay yo, Bob, they want Keyjuan, the one who gets the job done Keep huns screamin Keyjuan-na-na On the block I Rule like Ja, in the sun like Wa Me and mine at the mall spendin grands like Cool Bob See I'm a Ruger shooter, don't make me have to do ya Boo-ya, you see what Lunatics'll do to ya Tip-??? pursuer, get 'er in a room and do 'er First cat out the Lou that you knew that Wore a lime-green headband, matchin leather pants Vokal t-shirt with some sparklin wristbands This man, he keeps it real sweet With somethin sweeter than sweet, puffin on Swisher Sweets I'm unique, like a blue??? bird without the beak I'm deep, like bucket seats when the 'tics hit the streets Pick door number three if your price is right I'll pull a DJ Quik tonite is the night (Murphy Lee) Hold on, so I can tell 'em who I is, a young school boy with one kid I think I'm five-eight, but yo, maybe I'm five-six With my boots off, I prefer my booties in boots off You get in my bed, you better take pants, shoes off Now, and not right now but right now! And I ain't backin down, she can get up and bounce The Young Dude, quick to roll up an ounce and head south Don't even have drive, I can sit on the couch And wrap somethin, and put on a beat and rap somethin They call me Mr. get all mad and smack somethin I'm wild dude, you could probably find me on side two If not I'm a holla like Ja Rule, get a dollar from my boo And go and by a juice or somethin A virgin rapper, I ain't gettin loose for nothin Money earnin rapper, I ain't got no boots for nothin So I'm servin rappers, I be cookin when I'm comin (Chorus) 2x

Show Em What They Won

NELLY
(Ali) Yeah, yeah, check, check See I ain't about playin, Leezy 'bout cash in advance Cash in on the casual, actual, factual plan Makin a killin man, went from that to makin a livin Rightous willin, the only thing supreme swimmin And proceed, to not smoke weed around the seed It's the new way, new life, peace true indeed, off T's I dwell on off how y'all plan makin mo' money, so I had to buy a fly chain Ran in this game, dirt broke, now it's MTV with Kurt Lod' With the Q-four-feezy, be hurtin folks Keep the bird toast, black handle, horoscope hood scandle You the type of niggas puffin in shirts, socks and sandels Keep the God in me, the Hova Ja knew Allah in me Ball wit' me, don't tell 'em who saw when 'bout to squall wit' me Fall wit' me, this pure mic dope I'm sellin It's the man with mellow rap, felon, constantly yellin 'yo ma!' (Nelly) Uh, uh, uh, uh What's it like bein Nelly, ay, let me break it down It's like a shootout and you the only nigga wit' rounds It's like a weed drought and you the only nigga wit' pounds It's like a Freaknik and you got the only brothers in town I'm like a shoe-in, for the poster boy, the thug of the year GQ style ma', let me put a bug in your err (ear) Go tell ya man, he take a step, there went a slug in his err (ear) Have 'em askin (yo, how the hell he get a gun up in here?) (That's gotta be illegal, Bob!) I can bring them chrome things for that drastic shit Metal detectors, no problem, got that plastic shit Witnessess, 'I ain't seen 'em, they had masks and shit' 'Whoever it was, was in a rush 'cause they was fast and quick' Oh, I'm just a playa, mo', these ain't my rules Peep game, I'm wearin Jordans, summer these my shoes I'm like the heir to the throne Me and my niggas fastbreak through your home, get ya coach on the phone Tell 'em 'go'on' (Chorus) Show 'em what they won, a short stay at the hotel, Bob Show 'em what they won, Alize, Mo', Crissy or ale, Bob Show 'em what they won, Murphy Lee, Key or Nell, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob Show 'em what they won, two to the head, left on the curb, Bob Show 'em what they won, leavin they mama's feelins hurt, Bob Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won (Kyjuan) Ay yo, Bob, they want Keyjuan, the one who gets the job done Keep huns screamin 'Keyjuan-na-na' On the block I Rule like Ja, in the sun like Wa Me and mine at the mall spendin grands like Cool Bob See I'm a Ruger shooter, don't make me have to do ya Boo-ya, you see what Lunatics'll do to ya Tip-??? pursuer, get 'er in a room and do 'er First cat out the Lou that you knew that Wore a lime-green headband, matchin leather pants Vokal t-shirt with some sparklin wristbands This man, he keeps it real sweet With somethin sweeter than sweet, puffin on Swisher Sweets I'm unique, like a blue??? bird without the beak I'm deep, like bucket seats when the 'tics hit the streets Pick door number three if your price is right I'll pull a DJ Quik 'tonite is the night' (Murphy Lee) Hold on, so I can tell 'em who I is, a young school boy with one kid I think I'm five-eight, but yo, maybe I'm five-six With my boots off, I prefer my booties in boots off You get in my bed, you better take pants, shoes off Now, and not right now but right now! And I ain't backin down, she can get up and bounce The Young Dude, quick to roll up an ounce and head south Don't even have drive, I can sit on the couch And wrap somethin, and put on a beat and rap somethin They call me Mr. get all mad and smack somethin I'm wild dude, you could probably find me on side two If not I'm a holla like Ja Rule, get a dollar from my boo And go and by a juice or somethin A virgin rapper, I ain't gettin loose for nothin Money earnin rapper, I ain't got no boots for nothin So I'm servin rappers, I be cookin when I'm comin (Chorus) 2x

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