| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 0:55 | 
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the prfecional yah part one yah yah this iz it it comes yah yah yah lets go
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2. |
| 3:30 |
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Steady are you ready? (are you ready?)
What's goin on? (whats goin on?) Steady are you ready? (are you ready) What's goin on? (tell me whats goin on) Cold fresh air feeeel the mellow dip thats in the air Ohhh yeaa, I'm bound take a look around Ohhh, whats goin down? However do you want me? However do you need me? However do you want me? However do you need me? However do you want me? However do you need me? However do you want me? However do you need me? Im living at the very top of the floor Theres no more room for anything more I state my name, my name's to claim AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh This is M. J. B. [Jadakiss] Uhh yea, now girl step up to Kiss You sippin' red zyphandile, step up to crys The coupe got 19's, the chain's got nice gleam Girlfriend, you been scooped like ice cream Your ass is fat, your frame is little Got the door knockers on with your name in the middle On the dance floor gettin it in with me Might let you and your friend hit me Soon as the wind hit me I live dare, legendary the top of the globe So there is no more room for anything more And I state my name, my names to claim Jadakiss I done came here and changed the game Now we at the point where your birthdays is costly Got you a scotted outfit and a teacup yorkey Head so crazy that its killing me softly Sit down tell me how you want and how you need me Its the bomb Mary and Clue please believe me [Mary J. Blige w Soul II Soul in background] - over last lines However do you want me? However do you need me? However do you want me? However do you need me? How |
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| 3. |
| 2:43 |
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Old school, new school need to know this
I burn like Left Eye Lisa Lopez Burn slow like blunts of hydro Jigga Man, BK shit, y'all know Jigga Man, ya heard? the fugitive.. allow me to spit on this Clue shit, allow me to thank the people for all of their support, and your prayers and all the people that prejudge me, fuck you, suck my dick.. [Verse 1] D.A. act like a nigga starvin' for Jay if they lock me in a cage, fuck it, party away I'm still hot, I'm still S dot ya'll still got Millions buried in the sock drawer still holdin' my own on the corner nigga what can't kill me can only make me stronger nigga and when I get back home get your ass up out the throne it's just goin' back to the way shit was I'ma stay hot no matter what my shit does I could drop a straight dud, I'ma stay up niggas tryin' to break my will you know that ain't my steel I'm Destiny's Child, my fate's been sealed You're dealin' with a higher power I'm like Dwight Eisenhower My life can move a thousand miles and hour reflect me folks As my world turns like the wheels on a bicycle spoke It's much deeper than a soap, it's a constant drama series All they see is money, they want me to blind the jury All this bullshit can make the mind weary But my theory is the sun shines clearly (The Sun will shine clearly!) [Verse 2] Now everybody wanna rhyme like Hov' 'cause I rhyme like I be rhymin' in the Rov' climbin' in them hoes my minds like the diamonds, I'll blind you at them shows I don't shine, I glow I remind you of that dough don't I? murder niggas won't I? my persona, hustler turned rapper, smell the crack aroma send shots like toma! in any language leave niggas in a coma when I'm bangin' that Fifth get chicks lit off Coronas and bamboo spliffs and get the camcorder to camcord their hand movements and for what? ya'll actin' like ya'll better than Hov' ya'll niggas should open up for the Letterman show (*singin*) niggas is funny, all I do is get money and ya'll niggas sound funny to me everybody's rappin' like they better than Hov' but thats shit's real funny to me (*rappin*) I'm at the forefront of this rap shit, truth is truth look around at all the platinum, proof is proof listen to how niggas is rappin', thats do to who? but I'ma let niggas live 'cause it's beautiful Live niggas... Jigga Man ya heard? Clue...Duro... |
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| 4. |
| 3:26 |
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When I creep through
Niggaz is see through Just like negligee (Uh!) Verse 1: DMX Ain't no talkin cause there ain't much that the dead can say Long as I'm walking I be strappin my dogs (Uh!) (Whoooo-hooo!) Rackin the hogs Desert Eagle packin the morgues (What?) Metal slabs with yellow tags on toes it's What happens to those that (Uh!) Chose to be foes and (uh-huh!) Bet his man knows But yo, we only get stronger (Uh!) And the amount of time we're facing is only gettin longer Get the mayor on the horn! (Clue!) (What!) It's time for shit to go down (Uh!) Strapped for the show down (Uh!) Wet up yo crib, kick the door down Know you schemin' so I gots to get you first Put you right up in a brand new hearse Could be worse (Whoo!) Shoulda seen what I gave this nigga Two vests couldn't save this nigga (Uh!) The way I laid this nigga Played this nigga But thats what I'm good at (uh-huh!) Layin niggaz out in fightin' pits and f**kin' hoodrats (Ha ha!) Where's my f**kin' hood at? (Whoo!) Cripple niggas like switches (Uh!) Rip on niggas like bitches (Uh!) Then pour niggas in ditches (Uh!) They ain't found half the bodies that a nigga caught Or should I say a nigga bought Cause ain't nothing like getting' paid for, a nigga sport (Aight!) Triple what a nigga thought But thats just how shit be I know that one day they gon' try that shit wit me But just as long as I'm on top of shit You ain't stoppin shit And ain't a motherf**ker droppin' shit Chorus: DMX If it ain't ruff it ain't me (Uhh, c'mon!) If it ain't ruff it ain't D (Uh!) M to the X Most y'all niggas is strait sex (What?) (shots) Next?! Chorus Verse 2: DMX Plenty of niggaz know dirty is how I do 'em Put buck shots, from a thirty right through 'em Cause ain't none of y'all muh'f**kers built for war And I lay down the law (Clueminati!) When I spray down the door F**k around on my name will be 95-B-64-11 (What?) On a three-and-a-half to seven (C'mon!) When even up north I put niggas to waste So you wanna stop the violence? Get the f**k out my face! Parole before peeps hit the board off Bitches is f**kin but I sleep with the sawed off I got shit to do, rules to break, crews to break Before the news to break, I got dudes to take I don't joke cause Jokers is cards And cards are what I pull Infra red with the clip full No leash on the pitbull (Ha ha!) That shit is hot like the wax off a candle stick (C'mon!) But how I handle shit Is to dismantle shit (C'mon!) De-de-de-de-de Like Popeye when it's Spinach time (Clue!) Runnin' through two niggaz like the tape at the finish line What's your crew, gonna do when I put the pressure on And it hurts, wannabe gangstaz in skirts (Aight!) And the bitches comin' all out them niggaz One false move and their moms'll read about them niggas And they wives'll be without them niggas Matter of fact, I'm tired of talkin money Throw your joints up, scrap, bitch (Ha ha!) Chorus 2x Outro: DMX & DJ Clue (DJ Clue!) Niggaz won't creep in the streets with me (Desert Storm!) Cause you know what f**kin with these streets would be The Professional Part 2! Muthaf**ker! (Ha ha!) Uhh, huh-uh (My nigga Ray! DMX! My nigga D-Wha!) Pa-pa-pa-pa nigga! (Yo Ruff Ryders! Word up!) |
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| 5. |
| 4:02 |
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(feat. DMX)
[DMX (DJ Clue) {DMX's background vocal's}] (Whaaaat!) When its on {Uhh} Its on {Huh-uh} You motherfuckers done lost your mind! Its another one of those Ahh man (New DMX!) Another one of them, Clue slash X joints {What!} (Who's Next!) Another one of them off the motherfucking hook joints {Ahh you motherfuckers done lost your mind} Bulldog, call a bulldog! (Whaaaat!) When I creep through Niggas is see through Just like negligee {Uhh} Ain't no talkin cause there ain't much that the dead can say Long as I'm walking I be strappin my dogs {Uhh} (Whoooo-hooo!) Rackin the hogs Desert Eagle packin the morgues {What?} Metal slabs with yellow tags on toes it's What happens to those that {Uhh} Chose to be foes and {Huh-uh} Bet his man knows But yo, we only get stronger {Uhh} And the amount of time we're facing is only gettin longer Get the mayor on the horn! (Clue!) {What!} It's time for shit to go down {Uhh!} Strapped for the show down {Uhh!} Wet up yo crib, kick the door down Know you schemin' so I gots to get you first Put you right up in a brand new hearse Could be worse {Whoo!} Shoulda seen what I gave this nigga Two vests couldn't save this nigga {Uhh} The way I laid this nigga Played this nigga But thats what I'm good at {Huh-uh} Layin niggas out in fightin' pits and fuckin' hoodrats(Ha ha!) Where's my fuckin' hood at? {Whoo!} Cripple niggas like switches {Uhh!} Rip on niggas like bitches {Uhh!} Then pour niggas in ditches {Uhh!} They ain't found half the bodies that a nigga caught Or should I say a nigga bought Cause ain't nothing like getting' paid for, a nigga sport {Aight} Triple what a nigga thought But thats just how shit be I know that one day they gon' try that shit wit me But just as long as I'm on top of shit You ain't stoppin shit And ain't a motherfucker droppin' shit [Chorus: DMX {DMX background vocal's}] If it ain't ruff it ain't me {Uhh, c'mon} If it ain't ruff it ain't D {Uhh} M to the X Most y'all niggas is strait sex {What?} (*shots fired*) Next?! [Chorus] [DMX (DJ Clue) {DMX's background vocal's}] Plenty of niggas know dirty is how I do 'em Put buck shots, from a thirty right through 'em Cause ain't none of y'all muh'fuckers built for war And I lay down the law (Clueminati!) When I spray down the door Fuck around on my name will be 95-B-64-11 {What} On a three-and-a-half to seven {C'mon} When even up north I put niggas to waste So you wanna stop the violence? Get the fuck out my face! Parole before peeps hit the board off Bitches is fuckin but I sleep with the sawed off I got shit to do, rules to break, crews to break Before the news to break, I got dudes to take I don't joke cause Jokers is cards And cards are what I pull Infra red with the clip full No leash on the pitbull (Ha ha!) That shit is hot like the wax off a candle stick {C'mon} But how I handle shit Is to dismantle shit {C'mon} De-de-de-de-de Like Popeye when it's Spinach time (Clue!) Runnin' through two niggaz like the tape at the finish line What's your crew, gonna do when I put the pressure on And it hurts, wannabe gangstaz in skirts {Aight} And the bitches comin' all out them niggaz One false move and their moms'll read about them niggas And they wives'll be without them niggas Matter of fact, I'm tired of talkin money Throw your joints up, scrap, bitch (Ha ha!) [Chorus x2] [DMX (DJ Clue)] (DJ Clue!) Niggas won't creep in the streets with me (Desert Storm!) Cause you know what fuckin with these streets would be The Professional Part 2! Muh'fucker! (Ha ha!) Uhh, huh-uh (Fat shout - my nigga Ray! DMX! My nigga D-Wha!) Pa-pa-pa-pa nigga! (Yo Ruff Ryders! Word up!) |
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| 6. |
| 4:42 |
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(feat. Cam'Ron, Fabolous, The LOX, Nature)
[Nature] Peronas the crib sicker than Madonna's Gettin more press then Elien Gonzalez Some niggas tell me I'm the hottest I never cool off Criticize the shit I write but it's never too soft Snatch channels like I'm Disney Half grizzlie unexplain When niggas see me they duck Hoppin i pass quickley Someone to laugh wit me get acquainted They know exactly when a niggas famous Or livin dangerous The kid got a glow like i just came home Try to dull me Niggas that owe be hiding from me Changin their names Screenin their calls The dreamcast in the crib Never leavin at all Playin NBA 2K for two days straight Fifty dollas a game Ket me polish my gain Withdrawin at the bank Never deposit a thing Yo I gotta make a dolla wit slang [Cam'ron] Back in the day we was slave Whips and chains Its tradition All i got whips and chains All i did Flip some cane Now a nigga sick of the range Only a new six could fix the pain Look at all these goose bumps round my wrist and veins Milton Bradley wanna get my game 5-0 wanna frisk my frame I dont deal wit cheap blow When i shoot no block Sort of like a free throw Cant miss And one of you bitches burn me and i cant piss Got me itchin like its dandrif You gone see the back of cam hand quick you dam bitch Im a stomp you stab you Look at you you dam bitch Ya love I would dumb back out Everybody like "killa When u come back out," Listen I like rap Routine had to stop Met a new connect got it 18 a whop Cops on payroll every block got blow We fight every night Reunite then pop Mo Thats how it is when you deal wit me And I dont feel tv Only real tv Real money real gats real cats real girls MTV I'll show you the real world Cats run up on you Splater your white eyes Thats only to make saturday night live Lookin for a casket got the right size Wanna bake a cake i got the right pies Crashed up the four But now the right five Lookin for beef you found the right guys Old folk say "cam stop ur route Why you gotta get the guns Just box it out" Listen that there is trife Only fightin is the doctor And thats for your life As for your wife Took her out just to tour town Bench press for what I lift four pounds Tear up your car All four doors down Cats wanna box Well heres four more rounds [Styles] Yo, Keep talkin bout convertibles and your ice I'ma smack you yap you and murder you Keep talkin bout your dawgs is this And you leavin out the part that your dawgs is bitch Lets get straight to the point Aint a nigga better than me Im agrivated and im fed to the T If I gotta do joints And im sittin for five When you remeniss about me Say the nigga was live I got twelve arm robberies pendin A dope charge, a gun charge Hard to see holiday bendin Wit a brand new case Twenty niggas, the ride A spot OT And some brand new base Why say names You could get who ever you know I got the gun cocked Ready to blow Dont compare his rhymes to mines Mines is real And his is just words and lines [Sheek] Now I'ma give it to you straight cause I don't cop no pleas Sheek Lush, a nigga who got lots of cheese Wit enough coke to stand on and slide like ski's And you could see your whole body on my H-R vreethe How you wanna do this shit Like the quick and the dead So i could cock back Empty out the back of your head Do a drive-by go head Im quick wit the heater I shoot threw you Your car And threw the parkin meter [Jadakiss] Look it ain't much to talk about, fuck you Fuck where you from, you better wear your gun Won't shoot nothin, but you will appear in court I put your brains everywhere so you could share your thoughts Few hot shells outta the chrome will leave you there Wit a funny smell like gun powder colon Listen everythings about the kiss The new dope out Sky blue CL 6 Wit the new poke outs Tired of the speculation faggit Everything is real here Ya aint gonna get wreck on jason Hold down the fort Could never be baught So I dont flip when the crackers wave checks in my facin Rather start gunnin Cause soon as you start chasin the money Thats when the money start runnin I drive by in a car service Hope out wit mad nigga Pull my phone out Like ya nervous [Fabolous] Like ya dont know the kid stay hittin benches Wit kay's of the cane Leave strays sittin inches Away from your brain In them grey kitted benzes I sway threw the lanes Now the nay's just sit and flinches When they see the chain Ya might not never come out My verses get heard I'm a hustler I dont sleep from the first to the third Take the ???? to Cali But the shots go quickly Put red spots on your neck And they not no hickeys The truck still got those micky's And dont even pass it my way If its not no sticky No matter where Im at I pop regaurdless Cause I get knocked I cut a check Ya gone drop the charges Put three holes in head Make em look like bowlin balls Come threw in spring Wit nikes that dont get sold till fall So I could hardly care Cause the only way I see time behind bars If its a cartier |
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| 7. |
| 4:15 |
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(feat. Busta Rhymes, Rah Digga)
[DJ Clue] DJ Clue Desert Strom [Busta Rhymes] Yea Flipmode Busta Rhymes Rah Digga The Inauguration (New Busta Rhymes!!!) Yea, yea ha ha ha yea (Feat Rah Digga) What Give it to me All my nggaz Where you at now? [Busta Rhymes] Check me When we arrive in the spot Who the fuck you think fazin' We amazing and we blazin' nigga And while we blow shit every time Fully equipped for the occasion While we dazin', and we grazin' niggaz Make you leak and drip Till your body shelves up faggots Just like a razor say your grace and get the praisin' niggaz Flipmode be the ultimate unit, play your position While he lace it, know your place, while we decreasin' niggaz I have a hard time with wack niggaz talkin' Die slow with all that weak shit, you speak shit, eat shit! Cause when we march and high-step in the spot Niggaz love it when we leak shit, the heat shit, street shit! And while we drop the most miraculous bombs Ya'll niggaz aint really dropin nothin' Rockin nothin', toppin' nothin' (whhaaatttt!) Now to ya'll funny niggaz talkin' your talk Ya'll niggaz aint even really coppin' nothin' Poppin' nothin', stoppin' nothin' [Chorus 1-Busta Rhymes] All my niggaz that be ride in the trucks Getting' money say it! (ho) Niggaz, say it (ho, hoooo!) All my niggaz thata' rep for the street Hold it down say it! (ho) Niggaz, what! I'm sayin' (ho, hoooo!) All my bitches thata' beef with they nigga And hold it down with em' (whaa) Say it, bitches, I'm sayin' (whaa, whaaa!) And to my bitches that be doin' it and get their own money Just say it (whaa) Say it, bitches, I'm sayin' (whaa, whaaa!) [Rah Digga] Say 1 for the dirty 2 for hard core 3 for the trees stashed in my top drawer I be comin' to ya' live! Fuck up your whole circuit Make rappers ask them self if this shit is even worth it Don't really need to brag Cause these streets a tell Stay tight, be polite, and she specks so well Say fuck the world Who ever aint feelin' me Campaignin' through the hood like my name was Hillary The illest with form I'm the illest on the norm The illest on my barn (?) The illest on the song Any type wanna yap or think they can rap I'm a scream on motherfuckas like my name was Big Cap Timbaland, sweat pants, sacks of high dro The dirtiest flow in magazines like Whoa! Make it hot, flow it down Like some hoers, you can lift this And be careful what you write cause I might of already flipped it [Chorus 2-Busta Rhymes] All my niggaz that be ridin' on 20's And gettinn' money say it! (ho) Niggaz, say it (ho, hoooo!) All my niggaz thata' rep for the street Hold it down say it! (ho) Niggaz, what! I'm sayin' (ho, hoooo!) All my bitches thata' beef with they nigga And hold it down with em' (whaa) Say it, bitches, I'm sayin' (whaa, whaaa!) And to my bitches that be doin' it and get their own money Just say it (whaa) Say it, bitches, I'm sayin' (whaa, whaaa!) [Busta Rhymes] Now we don't give a fuck We serious nigga We smokin' trees, stackin' G's, nigga please, nigga what now? Music just for niggaz backin' they jaws Makin' you freeze, beta' eaze, get on your knees, nigga what now? [Rah Digga] Digga, digga, digga Type of swing only Rah could bring I could passion (?) crazy rhymin', and I do my thing Trantin' niggaz to threads, like white boys in kegs Cuss words and verbs Going over niggaz heads [Busta Rhymes] Yo no mercy and we taken no prisoners Pull the trigger, now we bigger, me and digga, in the spot now! Ya'll mothafuckas really think you can manage What we deliver, cause we thicker, and we sick of?what the fuck now! [Rah Digga] Digga, digga, digga Ripped shit since the 80's You taken me like if, and, mazin' Lil' crazy, lil' lazy, sop it up like gravy Couldn't write a wack rhyme if a mothafucka paid me [Chores 1] [DJ Clue] DJ Clue Desert Storm You know how we do things Word up! |
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| 8. |
| 3:40 |
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(feat. Ghostface Killah, Raekwon)
[Intro: DJ Clue (Raekwon)] Word up, word up New shit.. Raekwon.. Ghostface (Eh-yo, eh-yo, eh-yo..) CREAM.. 2001 (Who you? Who you?) Fetch out.. my nigga RZA (Yea.. yea.. yea..) WHAAAAAAAT? [Raekwon] That's right.. My nigga Clueminatti fuckin wit the intro, to murder somebody We cheque-cash niggas wit four fingers on 'em Callin the Lord, "Help me!", that's us Thrustin through ya hood wit the dust (HOOOOO!) Lord have mercy, niggas look thirsty, yo End the swine, meet the inventor, plus the winter It's mine, gasoline jump, just spiked gloves, nines Watch my wave push, one chain faded out Racin to Spain, half a million dollars in Boyd Willy Aims, slap bop top of ya glocks, plus black Reebox Rockin real nigga shit, callin me Pops Golden pro', kitchen designer shit Chinchilla blankets, H. Winston anklets on Drug dealer banquets, hands out, fire when we spit (Haha) The position is lit, drop fifty out a blimp Roast ya ornaments, Super Bowl ring on each finger Gettin fly, might linger, those of you ride So let the lye sprinkle yo [Chorus x2: Raekwon (Ghostface Killah)] Yo we put together like CREAM Matter of fact like a Jamaican team Sprangler stats, hatin like Mitch Green Off the wall auction that dumb out (We organize exortions) Burn niggas labels down, frostin 'em [Ghostface Killah] Eh-yo, how you like two Ac's? Max in the trunk, lookin real dumb Eighty-eight paper and our nose is numb Prayed over Marvin Gaye's grave He said Ghost, "Pop merked me at an early age Hit ninety in the back of me days" There's supreme fingers all on my dick Loved the way I sung the Cherells "Mercy, mercy, son", made 'em cum I wrote songs for the people Verses that'll make Nixon resign You can do the same thing with rhymes "I swear Ghost is doobie, just imagine" Check out what I started Who's the first to rock 'fros with out a part in it? Featherhats partin it, Gladys was the baddest, she wore a six Pretty-ass foot with an arch in it Big cars, slammin eight-tracks, slammin tracks King died in sixty-five, Motown cried Saw a tear drop from Stevie's eyes Fogged out glasses The plan was to bring together all the masses [Chorus x2] [Break: DJ Clue *during chorus*] DJ Clue.. Desert Storm Fetch out.. Rip Right Loud Records, Steve Rifkin, Epic CLUE! [Raekwon] Money Mohammed Ali niggas who keep clean sneakers on Beef and take niggas eats, streets brought all my features Temped to clog bed rallies, imagine only seventeen wildin Who spent thousand on 'em Ballies? Now I'm just lampin, just stylin out in Cali Actin like raw is the mission, mission is to slap 'em Bang jars, movin in psalms, manipulatin my accountant Relaxin like.. blacks get jobs Slangin in bangles y'all, chillin from all angles Don rock more thank you's, gettin my shit washed Elevator music, Rolex doors with thirty-seven whores Countin the paper, takin y'all to walls [Chorus x2] [Outro: DJ Clue] DJ Clue.. Desert Storm The Professional, Pt. 2 Stupid! Fetch out.. Dame Dash My nigga Jigga, Big Harper You know how we do things, word up |
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| 9. |
| 3:05 |
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[DJ Clue]
Ha haaaaa... *echoes* [Method Man] Now...now...now...unnhhh.. Professional 2 shit...WHAT! Staten Island up in this muthafucka... Mr. Meth rep rep rep rep rep rep... For the cause Wu-Tang Killa Beez forever my niggaz Yeah...we put our draws in it...CLUE! *echoes* [DJ Clue] *talking over above Method Man verse* New Method Man! Eminem... Royce... CLUE! *echoes* [Method Man] Niggaz is like "Oh my God not you!" Yes I'm in the flesh like hollow heads through your vest No contest, M.E.-Eth Man's obsessed With sex, drugs and rock & roll New tecs and calicos! Word has it we move mathematic on rappers Who don't add up, you get broke, battered and slapped up 8 million stories in the nekkid call yo man Method Straight guerilla iller nigga kill a murder record My verbal shooter does it to ya The 16-bar Ruger, bustin' yo funky dope manuevers But I'm not ya Super Lover Cee, I'm the Super Sperm Splash it on your skin rub it in like it's Lubriderm 10 out of 10 I'll be the... Men of all men I mean the... Creme de la creme a schemer... Sippin' on 'Gnac and Zima... True professional 2... (DJ CLUE!) Now that Bush is president nigga we all through [DJ Clue] Wooooooooooord! [Eminem] It's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder Why I keep on duckin' under the bed when I hear thunder Cuz I ain't crazy, I say shit that's crazy to crazy people To make 'em believe I'm crazy so they can relate to me And maybe believe in Shady so they can be evil baby I like that! I'm only as crazy as people made me Believe me, there'll be just as many muthafuckin' murderers And heroin users without Marlilyn's music But I figure I make my music I don't care if you use it To murder somebody, I just wanna be there when you do it! Now the parents are suein' cuz little Darren is screwin' Karen and Susan cause I told him to do it on Clue's new shit Now it's all ruined, the whole world is fucked up Cuz of me? Two 12-year old girls is knocked up My attitude's 'fuck it' like Pac's was at one point Wanna come join? Pick up a glock and just point Now everybody's killin' everybody and everybody's bloody And I'm just laughin' like it's funny Cause I don't really give a shit about no-muthafuckin'-body I'm so muthafuckin' nutty I don't give a fuck about nuttin'! [Royce] My wrist is...water and freeze And mix this is...audio Jesus the repent shit gets big Keep it sharp like knife in a pop device So "Duro you gotta let it bump!", I came from a hard knock life They say this kid be rude like this can't be true I suck my own dick like if I had a rib removed Vampire, sun go down I'm still wylin' Bullets travel through the air in the night like Phil Collins Rock City baby knife through your throat 'til you're broke Rise from the underground like sewer smoke It's all shifty, I got all-a my dogs wit' me And they all rich, and still all-a they palms itchy We'll pump, rumble over birds jungle urge Walkin' like we talkin' drunk while we stumble over words Clue *inhale*...Duro *inhale*...Slim *inhale*...Meth *inhale*... Five *inhale*...Nine *inhale*...Hold up *inhale*...breath [Method Man] It's just...Mr. Meth and DJ Clue I ain't crazy, I just do what the beats say do [Eminem] It's just...Slim Shady and DJ Clue I ain't evil, I just do what the beats say do [Royce] Unnh..Royce 5-9 and DJ Clue I ain't bad, I just do what the beats say do..unnh... *kiss noise* [DJ Clue] DJ Clue! Desert Storm! Come oooooooon maaaaaaaan! *echoes* |
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| 10. |
| 1:08 |
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The greatest DJ.. In the whole wide world
Is DJ Clue... Other DJs can't say nothing Because they can't do what he can do.. No one, No one, No one, No one, No........ He the greatest DJ.. Famous DJ Clue... |
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| 11. |
| 3:06 |
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West west yall.
William Holla with the S yall. Yall know what time it is. Woof! Can't spell the west without the "es." DJ Clue. Beyotch! Kurupt! [Snoop] I fall off into a party with a drink in my hand Rocawear pants, but I ain't come here to dance By any chance, has anybody seen DJ Clue? Tell him I'm lookin' for him (What's yo' name?) Big Snoop I'm in the big Coupe, I got that whoop whoop I'm tryin' to get a chicken, I got that big loot Let me slide to the hoop, regroup, and come through I'll bag it up, and serve you and you too I throw strikes like Andy Petitte and Roger Clemens Pitch a shut-out, the whole 9 innings The bulletproof 'Lac with the windows tinted? You mean the one with the pretty bitches sittin in it? Please believe it, we gon' represent it And we gon' bend it and dent it Fuck what it cost, we gon' spend it Buy it, never rent it Now when you suckin my dick, baby girl put yo' face in it Get it get it girl (get it girl), make yo' head swirl Get it get it (get it girl), make my toes curl And get it get it, go on girl, it's a crazy mixed up doggy dogg world [Chorus] And I know that you really can't believe what ya hear and ya see Just put ya hands up and repeat after me Get yo' money, fuck a bitch...and blow a gang of weed And I know that you probably never thought that you could see a true G A nigga like the D-O-double Gizzy But like I said, get yo' money, fuck a bitch, and blow a gang of weed [Kurupt] Yeah, yall the type of suckers we straight through When we skate through, with DJ Clue Hoes gobble on something, swallow on something Throwin' hollows like football passes and football practice Off that dodo, look at the shine comin' off that fo' fo' I want the ki's, the trees, the ice, and the g's What's yours is mines, but you already know though I'm young gotti desodo Let's see how long a body can flow fo' I got my Rocawear leather on, on swoop nigga You know Damien and Jigga laced me and Snoop nigga Them my motherfuckin' homeboys See Beanie's from my hometown Memphis with the full pound Tucked in Amil purse, all you bitches hatin' get a deal first It's hard work, raise off the homegirl bitches Chorus Yeah, you know how we do. Big Snoop Dogg, Kurupt Young Gotti. Rockin these niggas. Rocafella, what?!? Fuckers! Iceberg Slimmin' on these hoes. Doin it big. Aight aight, I'ma take me a trip to Marcy, go fuck with my OG's. And fuck you bitches and you bitch ass niggas. We ain't fuckin' with none of you suckas in 2001. On to the rest, you bitches. |
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| 12. |
| 4:51 |
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[Kurupt] Daz Dillinger
[Jay-Z] Talk to 'em [Kurupt] Kurupt young Gotti [Jay-Z] Talk to 'em [Kurupt] Big Jigga nigga, what? [Kurupt *sung*] Psycho, like no, bitch-ass nigga so When you see the D-O double G sneak creep low [Jay-Z] In the memory of the Notoroious B.I.G., Tupac Shakur [Kurupt *sung*] Psycho, like no, bitch-ass nigga so When you see the R-O-to-the-C sneak creep low [Jay-Z] Young Hova in the house, world wide hustler R-O-C, D-P-G motherfuckers.. .. hold up love You know Jigga Man resum, blow up drugs Blast round, full pound, no mask or gloves Face down on the gravel, have gun will travel Out the blue steel barrel get ya crew killed Perro ass niggaz can't touch I, muh'fucker what's my - - name, Young Hov', gun blow like AC R-O-C (With the D-P-G nigga!!) [Daz] Hold up (hah) wait a minute and All my thugs get (get what?) gangsta with it Gotti Jigga and Daz Dillinger, killin ya with the pound with Roc La Familia {*y'all niggaz ain't feelin us*} [Kurupt] Deep in and out, out gold Daytonas D cut through with 2-way Motorolas Nigga the Dynasty and the Pentagon MOTHERFUCKER Hollow tip, stainless teflon MOTHERFUCKER Jigga trigger, cock-a-poppa, nigga chest rocka with the chrome chopper, glock'll pop a nigga so quick Saddam Niastra, y'all done stepped in the mud and about to feel ery'thing from the flat foot Calicos collective, have you ever seen a four so clean like a brand new nina My nigga Daz (Sigel Sigel) Jigga, Memph, in bad-ass Impalas Butt naked bitches and pop collars The popular scholar, this is the beginnin -acap |
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| 13. |
| 3:30 |
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For my bitchs, bad bitchs
Fuck dem hoes Fuck dem niggas Fuck you too hoe Fuck you nigga I keep a dick in these hoes for my niggas dem I'm bezold out with gats for my bitchs dem Straight muttin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! I demand respect for my bitchs dem Neva' lovin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem I keep you niggas in check that's for my bitchs dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! They wanna know why niggas like me (like me) Talkin' bout bitchs in the street Walk a rock about bitchs don't speak if I say "Hi" I try to fuck ya Knowin' damn well you a young dick sucka' Half dead Half women, half men Gay as fuck Lookin' all toe-up Like you just had woke up Mouth smellin' like ass, dick, shit, and through up Hold up And this is for my niggas dem About them raga-dee bitchs cuz I'm sick of them Home-hoes like Trina going to save your ass But you a grown ass women bitch baze your ass! I demand respect for my bitchs dem Neva' lovin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem I keep you niggas in check that's for my bitchs dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! I keep a dick in these hoes for my niggas dem I'm bezold out with gats for my bitchs dem Straight muttin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! You gots no bucks? You gets no fuck You better find you a foot dragon slow mutt You got big bucks? You like the trick bucks? You lookin' for a quick nut and a dick suck? Nigga please I been touchin' dem Bees And I aint stuck on my knees For no couple of Gz This game aint nothin' to me Got niggas stuntin' for me From the N.Y.C to the Florida keys cuz Lil' momma I'm real one Pussy worth a trillion Pull them V's out nigga stop pillion Now you still wanna fuck I don't think so I aint no corduroy bitch I'm a mink coat I demand respect for my bitchs dem Neva' lovin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem I keep you niggas in check that's for my bitchs dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! I keep a dick in these hoes for my niggas dem I'm bezold out with gats for my bitchs dem Straight muttin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! Ah! You wanna cheap fuck Find a cheap hoe for that You got 10 Gz it takes much more for that You got 30 grand add 15 I'll pull out the handcuffs and the wiped cream Cherry's and strawberries we could do big things Pull the camera out play it on the big screen Lick your lips you know this pussy taste real great The realist one, I'm tryin to get it like Kim Gates Can't no bitch come between me, my flow, my clique Hoes we pimps we aint pimpin' dicks And after we fuck you ganna remember this Wants some up, bling, bald head bitch I be damned if I pimp ya'll hoes I'll damage ya'll scandales ass, amateur ass hoes One pound of cock and one genseen A fifth of Gen, and bitch and let the beatin begin I'm your daddy hoe And bitch I drive a Chevey not a caddie hoe The king dig-a-ling that is You cheap bragin' about the head I wanna see how mean that is I keep a dick in these hoes for my niggas dem I'm bezold out with gats for my bitchs dem Straight muttin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! I demand respect for my bitchs dem Neva' lovin' these hoes that's for my niggas dem I keep you niggas in check that's for my bitchs dem And if you with me Then you's a balla'! Roc-A-Fella! Fresh out! My nigga Gene! Domings! My nigga Damarco! |
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| 14. |
| 2:47 |
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(feat. Nas)
Yo, this is Nas with my Man DJ Clue The Professional part two Puttin' it down for you fake ass DJ's and shit like that Straight outta Q.B. all the way around the fuckin' world Black Frank Sinatra on yo' ass, Q.B. Braveheart nigga... [Verse 1] Was classified as the bastard who died Rumors say I came back alive with an axe And attacked niggas actin' like Nas My passion is to capitalize Come through my hood you get jacked for your ride Catch you from the passengers side My words turn the sea red Like the eyes of a weed head Ya'll peep my led then hide like Easter eggs I ride 'till the beef is dead, caskets dropped Your soul go further up than astronauts I talk it and live it Ya'll weak dudes should offer forgiveness 'cause frontin' like you ill gets yourself torchered by killers In Newyork I'm the realest Predicted by fortune tellers Sick with the talkin' methods AK's, Berettas My whole team is Steelers like Jerome Bettis Rammin' niggas like St. Louis, we dough getters And ya'll niggas is losers, nothin' fuckin' with us Nothin' but Bravehearts gon' hustle wit' us Ugh! [Verse 2] When ya'll niggas fall And start makin' 800 collect call commercials like Arsenio Hall I'm on times square on New Years with Dick Clark droppin' the ball With Kool and the Gang, doin' my thing Princess cut chains I bend bitches like bike frames My tight game will make Hilary leave Bill quick as lightning I'll have her wearin' tight jeans Givin' nice brains in a white Range Pullin' up to club life, turned her to a thug life dame I'm sayin', you rollin' with Nastradamus We flowin' to St. Thomas Jewelry box full of stones so I can change diamonds Matchin' masterpieces on black sandy beaches Even the paparazzi tries to peep us Disguised with dark shades and fake beards A lucky photographer noticed Tyra Banks here But I showed the tabloids bogus passports I told 'em back off before I flip like Castor Troy. [Verse 3] Live from the Bridge, cliques stay high from the iz' Wear the most popular shit, niggas knockin' my shit Denali's, fat designed rims, 2000 S Benz Watchin' ESPN with two dime lesbians I hit it of course, I did it to floss The last Don, doin' hits like Pepe and Cross Esco, cash long, niggas think I'm Blacula 'cause I'm in a castle with a bitch cold waxin' her I leave my teeth marks in hoes, scoop 'em like a spatula Pass 'em to my peoples and party like a Bachelor 'till I meet a gangsta bitch, give her banks to hit In return all she wants to do is drink the dick Fuck street clothes, we thug it out in Tuxedos Stomp niggas with hard bottoms in casinos A Hundred Bravehearts vest' up, nigga reload We keep low, Hundred Thousand bank ceelo |
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| 15. |
| 3:38 |
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(feat. Foxy Brown)
[Foxy Brown (DJ Clue)] (And I!) Oooh, Nana (New shit! Foxy Brown!) FO wit the X (So Hot!) Whoa, Brooklyn Alright (Oh!) okay, alright, c'mon Mmm (Fresh out!) I said it's gon' butter (My nigga pretty boy!) Bitch is lethal (Anton!) uhh Whoa, ohh shit, Na Na come through (Clue! [echoes]) Burn big spliff, y'all hoes pop shit I keep my gun cocked (Ha ha!) And my bitch spit Yes, who the ras wan' test me Original, don gargon that bitch I'm the reason bitches ride dick (dun know) I'm the reason why they like cock stiff Fox is the only reason Why them bitch wan' run gwan' buy fake tits like Who the fuck is y'all aimin for? If it's Fox, fuck you ain't name me for? Like I told you before, I'm BK's illest Dangerous bitch, BK's realest Heat play wit niggaz Clap gun, I rap don gargon Rapper slash model The whole round robin, so don't y'all get suspicious I'm big gun cock Foxy, y'all Likkle Vicious Niggaz feel this [1] [Foxy Brown] (sung) (Y'all can't fuck with Fox) So Hot make niggaz say (Y'all can't fuck) So Hot make bitches say (Y'all can't fuck with Fox) So Hot make niggaz say (Y'all can't fuck) So Hot, So Hot (Y'all can't fuck with Fox) So Hot make niggaz say (Y'all can't fuck) So Hot make bitches say (Y'all can't fuck with Fox) So Hot make niggaz say (Y'all can't fuck) So Hot, Fox, So Hot (Y'all can't fuck with Fox) Whoo! [Foxy Brown (DJ Clue)] Who da ras (?) chat but sound like who? And outta all niggaz I'ma please not do Niggaz talk slick then plead to the crew Got some grimy lil niggaz that'll eat y'all food (Haha!) Nigga, don't talk to me 'bout Fox spit rude I'm the same bad gwal, same cocky attitude (Word!) Ain't nothin changed Stunt gal, sick bod' Mash up on mah blood clot Range like And naan bitch fuckin wit Fox like Whoa; original big gun cock bitch And naan bitch wanna see Fox Naan bitch, wanna see me likkle gun pop Like, and if any bitch step on my crocks Thats a automatic hot one through ya Datsun, seen? Make them niggaz drop they toungues and Before they done make 'em drop they ones Tell 'em any nigga comin can't come for free It's a, price you pay if you fuckin wit me As long as ya "Chyna Doll" is indefinitely We H-O-T-T-I-E's, yes Not many can do it like, do it like.. [Repeat 1] [DJ Clue over 1] DJ Clue! Desert Storm! The Professional Part Two! Word up! C'mon! [Foxy Brown (DJ Clue)] Mmm.. I hate niggaz that love to pull rank Can't fuck and when they nut niggaz shoot blanks (Haha!) Whoo! I'm sorta like Jessica Rabbit Fuck who? Bitch don't move without carats, nigga And that's my motto - fuck me today, buy a house tomorrow And I don't feel sorrow, mmm Especially when I wind up my waistline, uhh Make them niggaz L.O.I. to the bass line Make them niggaz pepper seed when they taste mine [Repeat 1] [DJ Clue over 1] DJ Clue! William M. Holla! You know how we do things! Word up! |
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| 16. |
| 3:29 |
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[Lil' Kim]
Yeah How many hitters can stand the rain (Queen Bee Entertainment I'm runnin shit now) This is only a test La la la la la (What We told you it was commin) La la la La la la la la (We in front of the scenes and in back of the scenes so what you gon do now) La la la [Lil' Kim] Bitches wanna front on me But know not to come to me I keep ten glocks Ten rotts up in front of me (grr) Like they sprayin sumin (Sprayin sumin) Like they sayin sumin (Sayin sumin) I gets my bark on like I'm DMX or somethin (What) My reach is like Louis stiff eighty-four Yours is like Evander seventy-seven slow Thanks to Taebo I'm thirty two and O When I catch a knock out bitches bring the cops out Two for five spots I tear the rocks out Pop the tops out then clear the spot out (Yea outta here) Nigga or bitch you don't want no problems (Fuckin assholes) My revolver is a quick problem solver Don't never think I'm slippin (Why) Bitch I ain't dumb I carry a stun gun inside of my hair bun Hatin ass niggas I treat you like a bitch Strap on a fake dick and stick you where you shit I got warriors that's three time felons Leave ya body swellin Leakin from ya melon And it ain't no tellin when the bodies start smellin Somebody took the story and sold it to Helen Kelly The guns and thing you sing about bring em out Like I thought y'all havin a gun drought I'm a millionaire I ain't rhymin for the cash I'ma relax and let my niggas get in ya ass [Banger] All ya'll niggas is narrow straight parrel Nigga like Banger make you swallow the barrel (Swallow it) Criminal I ain't tryna battle (Neva dat) on a ground or gravel Through four make the hollows travel [Bristal] I got Montana nines more tangled lines Who wanna wine and dine with Bris get in line I fight like I rhyme niggas thirsty to shine Can't jack mine I'm one of a kind [Banger] Die slow y'all niggas is dust like pyro You sleep with your eyes close Might as well be blind fold See how much my nine hold blast my one Dos tres to the cuatro cinco Reload bitch [Bristal] How you want it Head or gut You soft like baby butt (I like that) When these Brooklyn niggas come threw Their jewels they tuck For what Intimidated how we hop out the truck Or the S type Jag Y'all niggas straight fag [Chorus: Lil' Cease] This is for my niggas who ain't never have shit Ridin round town with gun in masses Copped out the ten years but only had six All the ghetto hoods with only one bad bitch [Lil' Kim] This is for my bitches who ain't never have shit Settin niggas up for all they stashes Love cats with Roleys and Carti glasses Nasty hoes who take it in they asses [Lil' Cease] I ain't gotta tell y'all niggas where I'm from I ain't never tell no bitch when I cum I'm far from a lame you will never see me run You know how we do it beef jump into it M.A.F.I.A.'s the gang max out the squadron Nine millimeter team Mack 11 mobs men Who said we ain't rich Kim's bling cost a fortune Queen Bee niggas shootin anything crawlin From now on it's on when I catch you niggas snorin Any fresh event you can bet niggas sportin Betta leave town catch a flight in the mornin Get the cold out ya eyes somebody bout to die Three niggas got beef three niggas got to go Hit em all in the row like tic tac toe Where you start is where you finish at Show y'all the meanin of fam Remember dat [Chorus: Lil' Cease] This is for my niggas who ain't never have shit Ridin round town with gun in masses Copped out the ten years but only had six All the ghetto hoods with only one bad bitch [Lil' Kim] This is for my bitches who ain't never have shit Settin niggas up for all they stashes Love cats with Roleys and Carti glasses Nasty hoes who take it in they asses |
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| 17. |
| 0:56 |
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(feat. Billy Bathgate)
Look... I'm here to make a mil off of fifteen bricks I rob for, can't see me workin' for Job Corps It's Gates, dog A little introduction to me Crack's D unto himself Who else fuckin with me? Who got the shit in a chokehold? Who gettin that powder? Who got the candy red 'Pala Sittin with M. Holla? Its real life and I aint got to act in a flick Or make a skate and play like I'm blackin a bitch Young'n... I like the 5, but feel right in the 6 Its more roomy, so I can feel right in your bitch Shit, I drink Velvey, Henny, and Cris In the hood they call me can't-get-right But I can get right It aint a ho in harlem that can't get piped Or any five boroughs My 9 semi starts trouble I want y'all to act up Go head and play dumb Billy Bathgates my name, huh Nigga, I shot ya (Yeah...DJ Clue...Desert Storm...fat shout: My nigga Just Blaze, Enigma, word up) |
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| 18. |
| 3:11 |
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[Memphis Bleek] (DJ Clue)
(Word up!) Uhh.. I've become accustomed to goin through customs Pound in my pocket hollerin "FUCK THEM!" (What!?) I'm livin that life that you only talk about I'm fuckin them hoes that you only thought about I spend that money but you won't spend about as much that I made off my last single out Whatchu think of that? Niggaz, y'all know that I kill niggaz slow when I live for this dough (Holla!) Got labels sick, I know they hate that I'm makin they artists push them dates back (C'mon!) I don't need tattoos to prove I pack tools Go 'head and act fool and become dog food Memph Man, uh-huh, yeah that's me Same nigga that don't give a "basically" And I'm still smokin, it be like that Ya blunt went out, nigga relight that [Chorus: Memphis Bleek] I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. B.K. style, see Bleek how? I'm from M.A.R.C.Y. B.K. style, see Geda how? [Chorus] [Geda K] (DJ Clue) Yeah.. I'm finally put in the game, right where I should be And the gat laid right where it should be (Ha ha!) Violate, you be put where you should be Have your family and friends screamin "How could he?" Walk the streets with a body on his back Ride around in a V with the shottie in the back (Uh-huh) And for y'all that swear, that I front for rep Only thing that I front is hoes and coke and clips of tef With a co-d, that's a, menace to the people Yeah we sold D and made a livin off of people (Yeah!) Ghetto, corrupted us, and we taught ourselves How to add and scale plus bag and sell And how to, aim and shoot and I got brain when the wrist locked wherever the dot spot leave the tape You keep actin like you can't die in a blaze and I let sixteen of 'em dive in your wake [Chorus] - repeat 2X [DJ Clue over Chorus] New shit! Memphis Bleek! Geda! Marcy! Fresh out! (?) Tata! B.I.! [Memphis Bleek] (DJ Clue) Picture me rollin in that five hundred Benz I got no love for you niggaz it ain't no need to be friends (Clue!) I give a fuck 'bout 'em, no need to talk 'bout 'em He act bout it, I let the fo'-fo' pound 'em The co-d's, nigga no statements Just shots, empty shell casings No prints, V's no tint Phone, Sprint, Six, no chips nigga R-O yeah M-A Realist hood and clique nigga, comprende? You bitch niggaz know I'm focused right? You still catch M-E-M loc'n right? (Ha ha!) In the black V, wit the gat on my lap Shovel in the trunk, go 'head nigga, front This M dot E-M-P-H-I-S Bleek Coppin out to a one to three, you bitch nigga! [Chorus] - repeat 2X [DJ Clue over Chorus] Fat shout! Cuttino Mobley! Steve Francis! Houston Rockets! My nigga Chris Childs! LaVar Postell! New York Knicks! Word up! [DJ Clue] DJ Clue! Desert Storm! Roc-a-Fella! The Professional Part 2! Ha ha! |
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| 19. |
| 3:52 |
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(feat. Capone-N-Noreaga)
[Noreaga] Aiyyo these industry niggaz - they startin not to like me I'm too chiesty (chiesty) I'm too fiesty (fiesty) Run up on labels and I beat up kids It's N-O! Ain't no need to ask who that is I'm like Tim Duncan (nigga) close to unstoppable Shoot at your face, kid Whatchu gonna do? I go to Jacob with a hundred thou' While you go up to him with twenty-five hundred, wow!! I throw fifty on the chain (what!!) Fifty on the watch (what!!) I still cock, blow, and throw fifty on the block (what!!) It's thugged out, so my people listen and watch Yo my name "nore" but only fam' call me "flint" My people that smoke weed get high in bed, yo am I a hoe? You can see me at the Tahoe, rockin a shirt that say "Let the Lox go" In L.A. I rock the same shirt at Roscoe [Chorus] Remember if I shot a nigga - I don't care In the club (?) - I don't care You see the way we pop Crist' yo - I don't care It's CNN every thug throughout the atmosphere See us iceberged out yo - I don't care Chromed out the lower twenties yo - I don't care It's CNN every thug throughout the atmosphere [Capone] I'm out of this world, keep a fresh philly to twirl Pretty thug fly nigga, gimme your girl I been on all avenues Strips hot like Malibu's sand I got chips shit Rappers' savan I represent every Ghetto like a broke elevator Piss downstairs, sunny dude Cherry Now and Laters Save her for a favor, one of my favorites When a nigga circum To the slum, I rap one of the greatest Off the kicks I'm rockin' the latest Air Pimps Let me have that scar underneath my shit We thugged out, shit bleed thugged out QB reign as the last stop like the QB train In L.A. I'm with Kurupt South Central with Daz, hot nine's Clue Thug pop wine in the coop Fatigue the suit nigga Still shootin cues Huh? Clue, how we do? (huh? how we do?) [Chorus] [DJ Clue - over Chorus] Fat shout! TDK! Sam Elbridge! Brian Gordon! C'mon! [Noreaga] I'm went from, right (right), and I never forget ('get) Where we sell a lot of coke and we fight off pits The whole block on the run, yo even the chicks I cop every Jordan's, I love them kicks I got hurt when the Spurs beat the New York Knicks I had the gamblin' in the hood Scramblin' the hood (word) When shit got hot, I leave hammers in the hood A thugged-out shirt and bandana in the hood I'm the "Godfather" of the thugs King of the hood King of the 'dro King of the Crist' King of the ass And sayin' what, what? To Grandmaster Flash Hey what? The super thug is back, and I got some shit I'm like a crackhead, can't turn down a hit I keep the chrome out on the four-fifth, Four point six I went from hustlin nicks to hustlin bricks I'm big-timin' this game, I'm small-timin' this [Chorus] [DJ Clue - over Chorus] DJ Clue! Desert Storm! Fat shout! Theo Ratliff! Sixers! Saint Johns! Germ players! Mike Jordan! Alex! DJ Clue! Professional - Part Two!.. ..New York! [Noreaga - over DJ Clue] Yeah, yeah, DJ Clue Duro! CN motherfuckin N Y'know how we fuckin do it Thugged out and you all tittied out Desert Storm, strait form on ya norm' Keep it regular nigga Smoke good weed nigga, not the regular Smoke good weed nigga, not the regular.. |
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| 20. |
| 3:33 | 
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| 21. |
| 2:47 |
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(feat. Redman)
[Redman] I said y'all niggaz can't come in here tonight P,P,P Get out of here I'm the bouncer here tonight [Verse 1] Your boys are out numbered so plan tomorrow While I do the wild thing like I'm Sam Labardo My crew is grimy enough to ride in cargo Cause brick city beef with more people than y'all bro (A yo dogg what up) Yo the cold is coming So I be up all night like my toilet runnin' As a little boy was know for spoiling somethin' Now it's like fuck you It will be brawl or nothing (Hit the streets 4 in the morning) To run you over The beef we love the steam and cooked in okra Bitchs in the bricks slit the throats of both ya' Walk on T.V live hooking off on Opera I aint buff but got nough' muscle to fight I aint a dog but got enough hustle tonight Here's the facts to you punks And the message is When you buy guns invest in extra clips Ahhhhhhh! [Verse 2] When he went inside the club I flattened his wheels DUI drug addict and I'm back at the wheel You happened to feel This amphibian rappish and back at the gills From back at the hill (chill, chill, chill) It's me on the nine to nine Crashed it Now my sores on the eye-a-dine Po po found the dro but no firearm Cause I look shady like sun visor blind Dangerous I leave a smell That's why the sign read "Don't feed the whale" Doc like +Adabisi+, "I need the bail" Cause I keep my weed locked in the +OZ+ as well Yo what I look like a kid to you? I'm like +Bishop+ gunnin' down my friends in +Juice+ Brick dogg and I'm out to defend my food So fuck the media with the middle tooth (tooth, tooth, tooth) [Verse 3] Now just through your hands up in the motherfuckin' sky Da dirt always bubble pour peroxide You see? Thought I lied Nah dogg the truth I set marine out like my car waterproof You niggaz break day and still y'all broke You minus well get a job use the time to vote I rode crocked like my benz with alignment broke So it's like surprise! With that five behind my coat (So what the fuck you want!?!) Yo I see the problem twin The 38 special need revolvin' Invasion like moving BET to Harlem What are your fly whips and no keys to start em' Yo I open the doa' *door* (Open the doa' yo) I'm smokin' the dro' (smokin' the dro' yo) Bitch get out of line (get out of line) Smackin the hoe (smackin' the hoe) Ahhhhh! |
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| 22. |
| 3:12 |
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(feat. Lady Luck, Muggs (a.k.a. Paul Cane))
[Muggs (Paul Cane)] Dont get nuthin confused about me, this nigga hea throw clips You think you could hold three, nigga hea go six I bring +Heat+ like Deniro flix, my team lock and load And rock and roll like Aerosmith Fuck cops I got Cochran Shapiro chips One point five in ice in each earlobe shit Fuck who you and your man go get Me and cat take +Pussy's+ on boat rides on some Soprano shit Move wit troops in cougar coupes Like beeno and notes for a G a piece, they'll remove your roof Ya better spread when the ruger shoot Paul Cane got fire, everything ya heard on Clue was the truth It's like who want what what ever Tou and your man play tough ya gon get plucked together At gun point gettin stuck together Black Benz tinted out, buggy headlights stuck together [Chorus 2X: Lady Luck + Muggs (Paul Cane)] We aint jokin no more (This ain't a game to us) Got a lot of hungry niggas that came wit us (We dangerous) Cock back aim and bust (Lady Luck, Paul Cane, who could bang wit us) [Lady Luck] They said I rap like a man, and act like a man So when it come to war she gon clap like a man Short arrogant wit this gat up in my hand Chicks dont play cute I'm still attractin your man Rock many lands, Japan to Philly sands Luck stay ghetto like Rican dolla bands Only thing I take serious is garments and money And late periods [there she is] Screamin in a 2 by 2, too fly 2 seater Too much ice, too cold, 2 heaters Love men but got lesbian guns That love to lick off at you pussies for fun So play dumb in these dum dups Hit you where you pump cum Stick you for your lump sums We the ones you run from Till the day my lungs done for blocks I hit hard like Ronnie Lotts Lady Luck got it locked [Chorus] [Muggs (Paul Cane)] Ya talkin greasy like Paul ain't a nigga wit fire Like I aint got guns or killers for hire Got wolves that'll run through mask and arms Like point break clear the safe out and smash your moms Over 40 years old still blastin chrome Smiles never cross they face till there's cash in palm Cause they still do murders for bucks Gave em put hollow points through you then pass the burner to Luck We like a 2 G Bonnie and Clyde, back to back in beef Wit two heats a piece, mami gon' ryde Spit four, she behind me wit five Y'know Paul Cane and Lady Luck MO catch homo's and slide Before we drop the guns Wipe off the prints push the pedal through the floor And get away back to the bricks, ya don't want nothin wit us Paul Cane, Street Life, Desert Storm, we dangerous [Chorus] |
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| 23. |
| 1:17 |
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(feat. Ty Shaun)
[Ty Shaun (via phone)] Yo.. Yo, this Ty Shaun, man Word to mutha, man AKA Ty Nitty AKA William P. Holla Man, this my nigga Clue (Shout Outs) You know how we do this man Word to mutha, man Yo... Yo... [Ty Shaun] It's desert storm motherfucker, hit the floor, times up No question entertainment got ya cap lined up I bag for chips big guns and fly whips Bitches with bright red lips and wide hips Who crazed with thugged-out niggas with long dicks I'ma mad man, you can call me a convict Gunnin niggas down and I'm known for ice picks My cliques some iced out niggas who bomb shit Desert storm, catch your bodies in bare arms Ty Nitty run the city, but Clue is the don QU diplomats, throwin slugs at y'all Niggas floor skirts and clap pom poms Tranvets and wearing ya thong thongs I'm spittin' from the heart tearin' niggas apart Sixteen bars is like sixteen thugs Blow a hole in your face and mail your family the parts Motherfucker! [DJ Clue] DJ Clue... The Professional... Part 2 |
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