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REDMAN lyrics - Muddy Waters

Yesh Yesh Y'all

Original and similar lyrics
Yo, hard beats like this keep my mentality raw I G off C 4 lyrics to blow off them Lex door My tex-ture be the kind that explore MC's then blow em out, metaphor after metaphor I'm more wetter than your boy bigger So how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemploy nigga I should own a fly bitch house and a Benz But I got chickenheads criminals and broke friends that love to get in, keep the seventeen spinnin Pull out from my jaw linin, commence to split end Brains and body parts that motion couldn't picture Cause when I'm shittin niggaz hit mo decks than a skipper Mr and Mrs Howe, MaryAnne and Ginger Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigger waters out I got orders to kill em softly I wouldn't leave a trace if I died and police chalked me Who's the Boss G you better radio the walkie talkie For the Fatal Attract MC's that stalk me Got a big dick and your bitch click When I flip this I got more work than a olympic gymnast Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any track Milkier than Similak when I'm next up to bat ( Redman is on the mic and I'ma... Dope motherfucker, yeah, you best ax somebody -- Snoop) (Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Sermon 8X) Fuck the talk I walk whatever I claim to do Knock a mule on her ass and turn her pussy black and blue You couldn't run up if your Fighter was Virtua I'm a round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my work boots It's a Thin Line Between Love and Hate It's a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty-eight Deaths by far, my rap repatoire be the art of murderin makin it hard for you to spar We can chill and puff the ganja, but don't be mad when the Funk Doctor Spock smoke it with your baby mama Get off my dick and tell your bitch to come here Male groupies gettin shaky when I come from the rear Hah, that get on your nerve neighbor that play the music loud as fuck three in the mornin off a paper With mad Zul in the L-S-C In the downtown area, scannin the perimeter All my boos with the open toed shoes If you ain't gettin that pussy eaten right, let me show you Then let you taste these, this Brown Fox said Ain't No Nigga like the -- Funk Doctor Spock G (Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Sermon 4X) As I dive into the crowd I wanna see who the fuck gettin loud Who da fuck runnin off at dey mouf I let my nigga Fifty Cent knock that ass out Word bond, bitches talkin bout pourin out Cristal and Dom P they better stick to Sade Blackin out whylin, smackin out weaves Break niggaz cheap ass chains and medallions You're just a part time sucker in the game Shit is real motherfucker start namin names And if you name my name I whoop ass like Steven Seagal Give you Under Siege 2 without the fuckin train Let your brains hang from the 808 bang And if I wrecked your cipher then my Squad is to blame (Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Erick Sermon 12X then fades) We'll be right back with some more funk shit for all you stankin asses after we pay these bills

Letter To My Ex's

ACE HOOD "Blood, Sweat & Tears"
[Intro] Uh, They may not like me for this one Fuck it, I got my pen and pad anyway Mister Hood Dear Mrs. Independent Hoes Lookin' for ya like my lifetime depended on You're a centerfold, every woman's inner goal To meet in a nigga and his money long Hey this a letter to my ex hoes Before I start kiss my ass, X O's Ahem, okay let's talk about a gold digger Met her at a video shoot, go figure Uh, well she was bad than a mothaflicker Seen her lookin' got her number seen what's up wit her Yeah, to make a long story short dawg Couple days I'm sleepin, beatin the inner walls Fell in love with it now we up in every mall Bought her first Louis bag, she was so appalled Not a scout but she love to watch a nigga ball Bought her everything she had if I could recall So couple months I got her moving in That show money got me out of town It got her trippin' when I'm not around She was movin, trying to play a nigga out of bounds Seen pictures of her and niggas I hate to found Sad part was the bitch was trickin' off out of town Uh, and I was too blind to see it sooner Knew this bitch was kinda fishy like some old tuna Took her clothes and threw em in to an old sewer Damn, you shoulda' really seen her face then Uh, she officially on my shit list Uh, She pulled up on some shock shit Uh, I'm talkin bags in the front trick And that words to my common sense See you ain't nothin' but a has been I'm talking ashes to ashes [Hook] Uh, hey here's a letter to my ex's You ain't nothin' but a has been Uh, was only heavy when the cash in, yeah You tried to play me like a band bitch But I ain't trippin' cause you're pussy kinda average Uh, her ego bigger than her ass is Man, I'm so glad you the past tense I used to love you with a passion Sincerely yours, bitches Uh, Dear Mrs. Independent hoes Still searching like my lifetime depended on You're a centerfold, every woman's inner goal To meet a nigga and his money long If you ain't got it then you can carry on I'm talking like a Louis bag homes No matter swagger, you're new cologne I swear my last was a bee like a honeycomb Uh, I thought we really woulda' last long Shit, we were the worst to put your money on Damn, in the beginning it was fairy tales I'm talking make believe love coated in make believe Uh, but that's until I started buying things It was cool, now she started wantin wedding rings Such a drama queen demanded all kinda things Corrupted buy the light, she could only see the green Wanted kids so I can be there by any means Let her tell it we were something like a perfect team Damn, had to cut it, she was out of order Tryin to put me on blast like a bill boarder Yeah, I called her momma tried to transport her "Did you throw out her out dawg" Yeah kinda sorta, she was mad so she filing a restraining order Just to come and get her bags in the trash house Swear the cops made me leave nearly passed out Hey but I end up moving back in Oh my momma, now she preggo with a set of twins Pause, "That's a whole lot to settle in" Uh, I guess the story really never ends Well here's a letter to my ex then I swear she used to be my best friend Now she's a memory from back then I know she prolly misses that fifth Big sprees, and them motherfuckin plane trips And she the last on my ex list Nearly had a nigga stressed Damn [Interlude] Somebody tell me what's love What's your definition of love? Is love buying one another different gifts "Depending on the price tag." Is that love? I mean a nigga just looking for somebody genuine To really ride for him I'm feelin' like "fuck love," They don't give a damn about me anyway Maybe relationships ain't for me I guess that's why I'm writing this Uh, hey here's a letter to my ex's You ain't nothin' but a has been Uh, was only heavy when the cash in, yeah You tried to play me like a band bitch But I ain't trippin' cause you're pussy kinda average Uh, her ego bigger than her ass is Man, I'm so glad you the past tense I used to love you with a passion Sincerely yours, bitches

Flip Ya

ACTION BRONSON "Blue Chips 2"
[Intro] [Verse 1: Action Bronson] Live Stare in the mirror I'm a changed man Never, I'm just executing my game plan Shit, I'm crunching numbers just like a rain man And got the gray Lamb, interior was beige sand I snap the button on the driving gloves Pointy shoe like Aladdin on the flyin rug I probably die from drugs or while I'm fucking Fuck it, as long as she suck dick You see me with a bitch like Vanna White at the benefit for battered wives Lightly battered yam, a squeeze of lemon over lamb Staring at the crescent while I'm laying on my back Smokin' drug, you know the potent one Put a half ounce of the crystal in the asshole of a shih tzu Twist your bitch too, like Brazilian jujitsu When I marry, cop a shower room that shits two Sell your pussy if I called and had my chips, boo It's Bam Bam and I'm feeling like my time is here, to take the world over Sit A.C. Slater style on your girl's shoulder, then have a cold soda If you ain't with me roll over [Verse 2: Retchy P] My mind marinate in drug sauce The private driver's name is Gustaf The cuff links is like a slut's cough So disgusting, english muffin With the butter at the Yiddish luncheon With my pimpish cousin He sport the slick-back clean And I inquired how'd he get that Paused and said a bitch is a bitch I twist the spliff while I sit in the six The classic LO sweaters sit on the prince Thumbs in the belt loop, as I pose for the pic My boy is shell-amen, I blessed your residence with elegance Turning entire rooms into elephants Stepped in the building The doorman resemble Marcus Garvey Ferrari taped at the party Wheeled in by Steve Harvey He had the freshest line in the building He stunted on mine, it was my party And he tarnished my shine got mad and had him escorted out "Vincent, get 'I'm outta my face" And Missy Elliot had started a fight Busta Rhymes was on a molly From afar you thought it was Kane, but it was Body Catch a chokeslam if you try to try me Monday night catch me wilin' at the bingo house Just left the dog show, you know I brought Ringo out He won a ribbon, brandished it on the side of his coat I went outside and I was offered a smoke, I declined politely I rock the Jordan sole that's kinda icy My drug of choice you know is kinda pricey Niggah

Mafioso

Kool G. Rap "Roots Of Evil"
I dreamed that I was at a club scene where all the thugs be Every criminal mug be living in luxury what the fuck G? That must be Bugsy in the black tux over there with Lucky Bring my heater niggaz might try to slug me Take me out in back of the club and buck me and touch me I felt a hand tug me then turnin around I peeped the lovely Fly face fat ass gave me a glass of bubbly said Compliments of Bugsy then took me across the persian rug to plug me He shook my hand and hugged me; thought he would do me ugly but he dug me, pockets chubby said, Nino where them drugs be? Over there by the derby, buy they dirty devils from me to keep my paper sturdy, yo word G I ain't afraid to get my hands dirty, you heard me? I be D and fuck all that living thirsty, so Nino do his out in Jersey, showin no mercy, with Frank Nitty who else and, some nigga with a Babyface that they called Nelson Bad for your health, Machine Gun Kell' and your Dillinger Death messenger, known to carry the six cylinder Look for my army, fatigues to Giorgio Armani's Holdin the Tommy, no one can harm me; Will and Tommy tried to alarm me and quote, he turned to smoked salami Dead as a motherfuckin zombie, full of my ammo With Bugs Mirando, against the grain so, gotta send him over the rainbow, he must be brain slow, caught him down at the train po' in Santo Domingo, left him for dead Two bullets in his Tango, like how that movie Shane go Frank Costello, hostile fellow, he murders while remainin mellow but most of the niggaz on his team was yellow Cold blooded veins flowin with red Jell-o There's Joe Adonis, had mad dramas, won't hesitate to put you in pajamas, fly hooker fine as the Pocahontas Beauty queen you'll wanta pok-her-hiendas Frank broke a promise between the organized crimers and old timers Costello gotta go six below, nobody voted no to veto, so they hit him with a hollow torpedo Up in his torso, he ain't a boss so, he can go without ever lettin the whole police force know Lex Diamond was scheamin on Capone's scroll Wanted to own his whole zone, it leaked out They shot him at a pay phone with the big chrome, his whole wig blown Blood flowin from out his flesh and bones At the wake at the funeral home it's havoc Family got hit up with automatics Non-stop static inside the rackets Jack McGern was burnin split Joe Adonis cabbage The underworld was goin savage Pretty Boy Floyd was non-void, unemployed, he destroyed shit with the Infamous click, wasn't to be toyed with Mad jealous of all the liquor sellers Shinin with wine cellars, turn em from hood dwellers to Goodfellas Me and Nitty was like bank tellers, nothin niggaz could tell us We drove all over, I pushed a shiny yellow Testarossa Moved on it closer get the toaster Started to feel like death was closer, I hit Capone hard Murder him and his bodyguard in they car and dust the chaffeur Beef over, I blew him like a supernova Niggaz nicknamed me, The Black Cobra The Lady Casanova, yo I'm even deadly when I'm sober Act like you got a chip on your shoulder And blast the two right through your boulder Money you didn't know they shoulda told ya Nigga you fuckin with a soldier, wake up and smell the Folgers Niggaz out here done lie in piss to cover up the odor Operations from here to Minnesota to Dakota But yo here comes Greasy Thumbs, who wants to get the easy funds He whispered in my eardrum Let's take over the entire city, and split the dough Me you and Frank Nitty and Siegel and that'll make the bank pretty No doubt before we go we gotta murder John Torre Yo get all his territory dough and end the story yo

Mobsta's

Kool G. Rap and DJ Polo "Roots of Evil"
I dreamed that I was at a club scene where all the thugs be Every criminal mug be, living in luxury, what the fuck G? That must be Bugsy, in the black tux over there with Lucky Bring my heater, niggaz might try to slug me Take me out in back of the club and buck me, and touch me I felt a hand tug me then turnin around I peeped the lovely Fly face, fat ass gave me a glass of bubbly, said, Compliments of Bugsy, then took me across the persian rug to plug me He shook my hand and hugged me; thought he would do me ugly but he dug me, pockets chubby said, Nino where them drugs be? Over there by the derby, buy they dirty devils from me to keep my paper sturdy, yo word G I ain't afraid to get my hands dirty, you heard me? I be D and fuck all that living thirsty, so Nino do his out in Jersey, showin no mercy, with Frank Nitty who else and, some nigga with a Babyface that they called Nelson Bad for your health, Machine Gun Kell' and your Dillinger Death messenger, known to carry the six cylinder Look for my army, fatigues to Giorgio Armani's Holdin the Tommy, no one can harm me; Will and Tommy tried to alarm me and quote, he turned to smoked salami Dead as a motherfuckin zombie, full of my ammo With Bugs Mirando, against the grain so, gotta send him over the rainbow, he must be brain slow, caught him down at the train po' in Santo Domingo, left him for dead Two bullets in his Tango, like how that movie Shane go Frank Costello, hostile fellow, he murders while remainin mellow but most of the niggaz on his team was yellow Cold blooded veins flowin with red Jell-o There's Joe Adonis, had mad dramas, won't hesitate to put you in pajamas, fly hooker fine as the Pocahontas Beauty queen you'll wanta pok-her-hiendas Frank broke a promise between the organized crimers and old timers Costello gotta go six below, nobody voted no to veto, so they hit him with a hollow torpedo Up in his torso, he ain't a boss so, he can go without ever lettin the whole police force know Lex Diamond was scheamin on Capone's scroll Wanted to own his whole zone, it leaked out They shot him at a pay phone with the big chrome, his whole wig blown Blood flowin from out his flesh and bones At the wake at the funeral home it's havoc Family got hit up with automatics Non-stop static inside the rackets Jack McGern was burnin split Joe Adonis cabbage The underworld was goin savage Pretty Boy Floyd was non-void, unemployed, he destroyed shit with the Infamous click, wasn't to be toyed with Mad jealous of all the liquor sellers Shinin with wine cellars, turn em from hood dwellers to Goodfellas Me and Nitty was like bank tellers, nothin niggaz could tell us We drove all over, I pushed a shiny yellow Testarossa Moved on it closer get the toaster Started to feel like death was closer, I hit Capone hard Murder him and his bodyguard in they car and dust the chaffeur Beef over, I blew him like a supernova Niggaz nicknamed me, The Black Cobra The Lady Casanova, yo I'm even deadly when I'm sober Act like you got a chip on your shoulder And blast the two right through your boulder Money you didn't know they shoulda told ya Nigga you fuckin with a soldier, wake up and smell the Folgers Niggaz out here done lie in piss to cover up the odor Operations from here to Minnesota to Dakota But yo here comes Greasy Thumbs, who wants to get the easy funds He whispered in my eardrum Let's take over the entire city, and split the dough Me you and Frank Nitty and Siegel and that'll make the bank pretty No doubt before we go we gotta murder John Torre Yo get all his territory dough and end the story yo

Lord, Listen.

MICK JENKINS "Trees & Truths"
Life ain't nothing but a cat-mouse, nigga Mice get trapped in the trap house, nigga Lives get sacrificed in the streets White lights when you blackout, nigga For my niggas dig and move, better watch that back, fam Around here you're just another black man Niggas talk shit but I'm over their verbs like accents and apostrophes No apologies. Quite advance maybe prodigy Black rap mans dichotomy Some like the folks and the moes Niggas better duck when it's birds in the street Cause you never too fly to get caught by the crows Better call your God if you doubt my G Better call Allah if you fuck with the pigs in the house, my G, OnGaud Lord, Lord, Lord we never listen, do we? Lord, Lord, Lord, we never Lord-love to hear the lie. Hate to hear the truth We love to hear the lies, we hate to hear the truths Just ginger ale for your hoes, I don't want they souls Just ginger ale for your hoes, I don't want they souls Sip it like Champaign. Free be the campaign Pinkies in the air for the swank Peanut butter loafers, like fuck did you think? Don't you see the pennies, I don't need your two cents It ain't never really been about a dollar Nice repentance. [?] Pop up my collar Back when Slim was rolling impala. Running from the ops Parked car cuffed on the curb for the cops Swerve on the clock Bet your nose calm fore you swerve on the block Like, fuck them niggas they don't know our struggle Like, fuck them niggas they don't know our struggle Like, fuck them niggas, famo Lord, Lord, Lord we never listen, do we? Lord, Lord, Lord, we never Lord-love to hear the lie. Hate to hear the truth We love to hear the lies, hate to hear the truths Just ginger ale for your hoes, I don't want they souls Just ginger ale for your hoes, I don't want they souls Thank God they prayed for a nigga Thank God Rhonda prayed for a nigga Lord, Lord, Lord, we never listen, do we?

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