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REDMAN lyrics - Dare Iz A Darkside

Bobyahed2dis

Original and similar lyrics
[Jeff Stewart] And I say... right about now you are rockin with the best! Can I get a hit *inhale* *coughing* Thank you *coughing* What you're about to experience is a walk on the Funkadelic side Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself To all knotty head niggaz, bob to this Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside Coming to you live and direct without further adieu I bring to you Redman one more time This is Jeff Stewart and you know how I do it... god DAYAM!!! [Redman] So who's that funky nigga that's known to kick the fat shit The mirror said You are, you conceited bastard *cutting and scratching of bastard* Done by the dogcatcher, dogcatcher, it's the dogfetcher, I betcha Aahhhhhhhhhhh, with the slang Get you coughed up from the weed it'll bust your brain The top notch of hip-hop and I'm on the charts I'm catchin applause when I rock the micraphone from the heart My style's foul, so look into the eyes of Lorimars As you can see, I drop funk bars from here to Mars Still rollin down the highway wit my forty between my lap bitch Crossin DTW, coming into my lap and Boy my skills are stacks, I love to do it from the back My style swarms over ghettoes like crack Blow in any hood and puff a blunt with any nigga As long as we both got, it don't matter who's gun bigger But I bet you you can't do that, cause the multiplatinums can't save your ass on the block, and you're fucked if it ain't pop The funk is blowin wattage out your fuckin trunks Like peak Puma, I known to give a whole lots of lumps Props I got, coming through your block nine cocked My socks, even got three-eighty-nine shots Don't press it, I hang em like them niggaz do in Texas You don't have no heart you chestless, cuz your heart's on my necklace I give props to real MC's like KRS-One Kool G Rap, Buckshot, Busta me and I'm from The East coast!! Where a nigga like you get that fat And since you came out gassed, well I'm closin your gas cap The creature, from the deeper, ultimate funk freaker Represent New Jersey, keep your eyes up on the bleacher A menace like Dennis, I got game like Ennis I can french-kiss my lyrics, then I run trains with sentence Lord have mercy! It's too much funk to cope with Droppin dope shit after dope shit, we're atrocious That's from the lungs, that rings from here to kingdom come And I don't have to be a Special Ed to get dumb!!

I Want My Shit

INSANE CLOWN POSSE "The Amazing Jeckle Brothers"
It was like March, April Fuckin Lebra (Fuckin, um, shit) Torus, born in 1775 I'm like 300 and somethin, but I'm still alive I used to hang with the original, billy the kid You probably think I'm only playin but, I did My daddy's were a 2 headed freak show Mama a fortune tella, Azmerella Zella Anyway they had sex on a Oija board And I was born the next day (Who?) Violent J When I was 14 I tripped on the train track And I was crushed right there, on the steel rack I'm out cold, they though it would fuck me up I got up and itched my butt, and I'm like, what? Everybody tripped and called me the clown devil boy, Child of the Witch heifer, whatever Tied me up burned me and threw stones Had a few scrapes and cuts, Smokey Nuts After that they started bowin and shit Prayin to me, you know how those primatives get I said get off my dick I ain't a savior I'm what ya call a juggalo, and all I want is my flava 4 simple things in this bitch before I die I want a rusty ax I wanna know voodoo A fat bitch named Bridget And a little sip of Faygo too Till I get my shit in this motha fucka I will neva DIE! (Ah, hell yeah, so anyway...) 50 years passed all my homey's are old ass fucks I ain't even got hair on my nuts I left the village in the search of my ends, I wrestled Alligators, battled terminators Nothin ever killed me, nothin could harm me I fought in the civil war, Yankees army I walked across enemy lines with a mack 10 Man they didn't even have that shit back then How you just gonna come in my shit and fuck it up? Well at least make this shit sound real man, damn! I walked acrossed enemy lines with a, lantern Steddy takin cannon balls, to the balls The war ended, I traveled the country horse back Until this fool tried to horse jack He put his gat to my head and blew my face up Didn't even smear the makeup I took his gun a put a divet in his neck The sherriff didn't like it, I got endited 87 long years in the state pen Till they finally forgot why they put me in They had to let me go, can't hold me on nothin On they way out they like, Yo ain't you like a houndred and somethin? I'm said Yeah thats right, And I ain't gonna die till I get my shit motha fucka!!! I want a rusty ax I wanna know voodoo A fat bitch named Bridget Just a little sip or two Till I get my shit in this motha fucka I will neva DIE! I slept under bridges, lived in a valley I climbed up mountains, searched the alleys More years passed and I still ain't died Now I'm in Detroit on the Southwest Side My homie has an Impala blue '67 Last night we hit the road pushin one eleven I stuck my head out the window, Ttold 'em forward the most And let my nugget ping off a light post Hahahaha hell yeah cuz, Yeah it hurts a little bit but then ya gotta straight buzz The world hates me cuz of shit like this They always try and kill me but, MISS I know it's odd cuz my face is forever painted When I was born the bitch ass doctor fainted My tongues a little long I choke people with it Looks kinda nasty, but chicks dig it And I told ya my neck can stretch for miles I sorta look like somethin from the X-Files People wanna see me die for then a little bit But I'm a juggalo, and as a juggalo I want my SHIT And I ain't gonna die till I get it!!!! I want a rusty ax I wanna know voodoo A fat bitch named Bridget I said Faygo FUCK Mountain Dew Till I get my shit in this motha fucka I will neva Diiiiiiiiiieeeeee! Diiiiiiieeeeee! (2x)

That's How It Is

COOLIO "Gangsta's Paradise"
Brainiac, with a zany act, cleptomaniac Before I go to work I smoke me a fat sack Of indo, then climb through the window And eye the VCR, and load it in the Pinto, huh! Yes I'm on my way to the bait or should I say the pawn shop, but I don't smoke rocks Some people say I'm crazy and they think I'm on crack Cause I hock all the shit and I never get it back Coolio loco, you better call Bronco Stole a link from my auntie, and sold it to my uncle Took the flowers from a hearse, romanced a nurse Put the girl to sleep then I went through her purse Bandit, underhanded, yes I'm skanless Snake in the grass fool, I'm taking chances If the price is right, you can call me a killer Before I was a rap singer, they called me Sticky Finger ( But he's stickin you, and takin all of you money -- Guru) ( I ain't never got gaffled like that - JD) ( Don't, you blink, or I'ma rob your ass blind - Sticky Fingers) ( What you doin stickin in that people's window? - Richard Pryor) ( Gimme that... ) big fat dope sack ( Gimme that... ) ca-di-llac ( Gimme that... ) big gold chain ( That's the life, a-that I lead -- Run-D.M.C.) Coolio call me shady, janky, slick right You and your crew better duck from my gunshots I takes no shit, carryin no drama If I can't get you I bust a cap on your momma I never had a grip, so I learn how to shoplift My trenchcoat is long and now I got some fresh shit Yeah, buddy, sht's lookin good Gets much props and respect from the hood Caps from my raps and a trunk full of hubcaps Step to the crew, and you're bound to catch a pimp slap But I don't pimp no bitch for my dough They got somethin I want, I just rob the hoe Early birds catch the worm so I crow like a rooster They follow me round the store because they know that I'm a booster Tell me what you want and I'll be the stealer Call me Coolio, or call me Sticky Fingers ( Coolio... ) ( First they do' ring, now they mob ring ) ( Told you before, you shouldn'ta never fell asleep - Big Daddy Kane) ( Give it up, give it up, give it up ) I don't wanna go to jail cause I don't like the lockup Turn out the lights and get ready for the sock up One plus three equals four for the knockout Got circles on that ass like a Mike Tyson PunchOut You better hide your shit if you wanna keep it I'm driving down the street in your 'llac while you're sleepin I was born with a sickness, that they call brokeness Never said I was the best, but I'm damn sure the loc'est Up, up, and away, like a rocket Some fool got shot, now I'm goin through his pockets He won't be needin no dollars where he's goin And when I get to hell I'ma act like I don't know him I'm takin everything that ain't bolted to the floor And before I go I steal the knocker of your front door Let me be free for I'm a thief and a gangster Before I was a rap singer, they called me Sticky Fingers ( Yeah we want

Southern Fried

KILLER MIKE "R.A.P. Music"
[Killer Mike] Welcome to this country-fied, bonafide and my flow is sweet as a potato pie Never been a sour apple, I'm a Now N' Later guy I'ma tell her somethin sweet and she gon' lick me later guy Hello to my hater guys How you doin, sirs? I know you got mean words But keep them to yo'self, unless those murders will occur Cause I'm from Killa Kill Adamsville Right next door Bowen Homes and Dixie Hills Allen Temple Wildwood and Plainsville These motherfuckers murder in plain sight Everyday, broad daylight, they ain't right Shit's loko out in Zone 4 Since the 80s' it's been that way doe My nigga uncle died shootin back at the po-po He went out, but he ain't go slow though Even hit the cop back with the fo'-fo' doe Got buried in a Rolex, Jordans and a Polo Nigga died pretty as a pimp in a photo Whoa WHOA! Yee'n hear fat boi He ain't say that boi, don't e'en try to act boi That fat black motherfucker got a way with the words I'll tell you he can rap, boi Respect my words like a rabbi I'm a Porterhouse, you a motherfuckin ribeye Hate on me to your girlfriend, she gon' look you dead in the eye and tell ya, "So, muh'fucker, he still fly!" [Chorus] Ain't I fresh? Ain't I clean? Ain't I;m ridin thru the city in the meanest machine? Ain't I, ain't I 100? Playa fa' sho Ain't I slick 'bout pimp game and just might mack on yo' hoe, ain't I? Ain't I fresh? Ain't I clean? Ain't I'm ridin thru the city in the meanest machine? Ain't I, ain't I 100? Playa fa' sho Ain't I slick 'bout pimp game and just might mack on yo' hoe, ain't I? [Killer Mike] So fresh, so clean Rollin down the streets so slow, so sweet like a cup of, codeine, smo-kin on that, I-rene wit a sweet country girl named Irene, I lean feel-in irie I be, strapped, to the motherfuckin T, so please don't try me My Chevrolet lay butt naked on the asphalt flo' flashin her high beams And I'm still in the company of Irene and we been joined by Maxine We maxin, relaxin, chillin double stackin And me bein the Westside player that I be I'm tryna see what's hap'nin, and what's hap'nin? Mй-na-na-nage in my garage These two young ladies is the reason I (A.D.I.D.A.S) That's All Day I Dream About that Sex scene You textin, hopin that they call you I just BBQ and call 'em up and say, "Hey, fall thru" And you know it's shrimp and lobster tails when they enter the room with lots of players My potnas young black millionaires And they all about some mon-ay! Yeah young'n, it's a double entendre Yee ain't got to wonder, when you ask LaRhonda what she been doin hangin out with Shawnna She tell you, "Nuttin, hon-ey!" [Chorus] [Killer Mike] Moлt, Rolex, big Benz, no flex Wedding ring on finger, I married a Trina Pretty as a singer, fine as a stripper When we in the strip club, strippers try to tip her I don't want no dance, hoe! Get up off my zipper You ain't tryna rip me if you ain't tryna rip her We like Bun and Pimp, bitch! See we is a duo This that Ball and G shit, we don't need no new hoe See I got a suave mouth which purchases my (Suave House) This that 2 Live Crew shit, I (Rap-A-Lot) 'bout new shit This that country rap tunes, Southern fried funky shit I am the antithesis or opposite of monkey shit And that's some education for y'all thinkin we unlearned Cause our uncles played that Gucci Crew and walked around with perms and we buy them '95 Impalas, paint them bitches urr-ange We get (Gang Starrs) like Preem and Guru cause respect was (Hard to Earn) [Chorus]

Ron Simmons

ACTION BRONSON "Blue Chips"
Gipsy Salami cheese is from the cave Wild dandelion greens dressed up on the plate Parmesan crisp, we wildin' in marea Doing all the drugs off of Pico and Labrea Peace to Kings English, sticky green fingers Brock Fetch Polaroids Bitches named Dinga Cunnilingus, Buddy Holly singin Hash between my butt cheeks, hookers in the plush suite Whole grain mustard, 12 grain bread Move cocaine out of Spokane, I got no shame Spit the propane, relieve you of your gold chain Go to bed without even knowing the hoes name Hazelnut spread, banana on the bread Treat you like a shark, put the hammer on your head Mock neck sweaters, Alpaca on the threads Fat black leathers. Leave your body in the shed Damn Ron Simmons Peace to motherfucking Iceland Ron Simmons Ron Simmons Ron, Ron Simmons Ron Simmons Damn, your fucking with a pro kid, No triple A I went straight up to the show, kid While You can catch me out in Spain on the coast, dick Don't ever say my fucking music sound like Ghost shit Born alone, stood strong for half of fifty Vocal reminiscing of a kid that hold a semi Old and sweaty, motherfucker shit the bed They crying in the corner while there shorty give me head Yeah, ice sculptures, Venezuelan white vultures Chinese wizardry, long capes Old grapes in the glasses she suck me while I'm flaccid Every summer catch me grilling steaks by Lake Placid Dabble then pass it, don't ever babble or get blasted Bitches ass to ass, double dildos made of plastic Remain classic with all this flash inside the pan shit Like Jr. Griffey smashing homers, never land bitch Damn, we never land bitch Yeah, we never land bitch Kinda high, never land bitch But you can see me eatin Lamb, bitch Damn

Let's Start A Riot

THREE 6 MAFIA "Da Unbreakables"
(Chorus starts off w/cuts and scratches) Let's start a motherfucking riot in this bitch! Let's start a motherfucking riot in this hoe! (Repeat 4x) [Verse One: DJ Paul] Yeah, yeah, yeah, fucker, yeah You got to be the weakest hoe in the world You move all the way to Memphis from *gunshots* (Atlanta) 'Cause you were scared like a little girl Little sorry broke bitch ass nigga You ran your mouth and got into it with some real ass niggaz You landed in the 'M' and saw your life was in ruins By the way nigga, how your collarbone doing? I thought you we really quick to kick some ass down here Memphis, Tenn. I'll take the base out of it and say so clear Then you move back to *gunshots* (Atlanta) and got your shot up While you were driving you living a life of hell I guess you wanted to be so much like your favorite rapper That you even try to die like your favorite rapper At ninety pounds you're too small Look all the trouble you found You've done fuck around and find yourself under the ground I wanted to get in that ass so I invite you to a show But you's a ho because your ass didn't show you ain't buck bitch! (Chorus 4x) [Verse Two: Lord Infamous] This right here won't stay quiet It might strike up a riot Everytime we bump this shit somebody up in here die The dangerous Hypnotize is from the deadliest Minds We are the rowdiest of hypnotists out here you will find You better fuck with your kind You do not want none of mine We're the funkiest, bumpiest out on the grind This is one your sitting in your junk get ya crunk We're the specialist Triple six out on the funk So hit the floor and give me about one hundred jawbreakers We're causing pain up on this thang you can't shake us I'm pistol-whipping, self-tripping furiously fast Hit the gas, the cash I'll give them a blast In the past, Three 6 have you beating 'em bad Just like the old shit you holding niggaz up in a mask Hit the parking lot, pop the boys Straight Homicide It be these killers man, these killers man 'bout to (Chorus 4x) [Verse Three: Crunchy Black] First, I've had you niggaz get buck, get wild Then I want you niggaz to move the fucking crowd Three 6 in this bitch knock a nigga down My nigga on the right, get buck, get wild My nigga on the left, smack a bitch in the mouth My nigga on top turn it to the ground For all you hoes walk around with a frown We gonna play a game called 'Beat a bitch down' [Verse Four: Juicy J] Bitch I know It's 'bout that cash when you selling your ass You done spent your whole check walking around acting mad Heard you be at ATL, Magic City It's sad To cover up it's just a flauge like you ain't like the past You say you down with the goodbook I think you read a cookbook I know you need some help you need to go see Dr. Hoodshook And please quit claiming the low down dirty Three 6 When you telling motherfuckers you ain't with it bitch! (Chorus 4x)

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