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4:42 | 
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from Exit Wounds (엑시트 운즈) [ost] (2001)
(feat. Redman)
[Redman] Yo yo.. [Chorus x2: Redman and Lady Luck] [R] HEY LADIEEEES!! [L] Luck's the name [L] Stay a-bove the game, for ones bust them thangs [R] HEY LADIEEEES!! [L] Yo, you niggaz can't stop me [L] This chick is cocky with the big body papi bought me [Lady Luck] Nigga I be, that chick that'll brawl with a dude Strut around nose up with a attitude Flaunt jewels, haunt crews, Luck is bad news Pull 'em out a tool, show ya what a MAC'll do Aim for your North Face coat Or put three up in your small face and a couple up in your throat Far from a joke, AND it's that time of the month My niggaz came to the party drunk, gettin it crunk They say it's, type foul how I look at life now Slumped in the drop with a loaded ri-fle Type wild, lifestyle, dizzy off Cris-tal Talk with a lisp now, walk with a limp now MUST be a pit now, I'm always with my man Grand in my hand just signed to Def Jam Along with Nia Long lookin for "The Best Man" Lay up in the wet sands when not in the 'luxe Land Nigga uhh [Redman] Yo yo.. [Chorus] [Lady Luck] You heard the flow's lava And little momma spit it hotter than the enchilada Foot to the floor, whip the Jag like a stunt driver (SCREEE!) The glock right beside her And Shannon Scholar follow and we came to lock the block up You heard "blaka blaka" coward get your coke and rocks up Somebody call the cops up, need vice squad to stop up Doin a buck-thirty zone in a big poppa How I look; fallin in love and then Luck get knocked up? I need a brolic nigga (uhh) hydraulic nigga (uhh) Swervin from the feds, ridin coke pilin nigga I'm never silent nigga, Luck get kinda violent nigga The type to snatch you out your car and take your wallet nigga (Get outta there!) I roll with cuz-ons, fam get your thug on (Why not?) Type to beat a nigga down if he mug wrong Every time, Luck mix coke in every line And stop askin nigga yeah I write my own rhymes [Redman] Yo yo.. [Chorus] [Lady Luck] Nigga I be, that chick that have you eatin through an IV [beep, beep, FLATLINE] You cowards try me I'll let the slugs fly free Where the rocks be? Where the jocks be? You grab a glock and let it pop if you gon' stop me I'm probably hot, the Goddess in here Better spit your hardest this year, I'm starvin this year Regardless who here, Luck gon' murder the flow You broke-ass niggaz act like you allergic to dough Never get none nigga let your lip run And watch my clique come, cock back and spit one (blaow!) Move smoother than the juices when my clit cum (uhh) And every time I rock, watch my pockets thick-en Y'all ride dick on any cat that can buy the P-rada And scatter my motto why bother when Luck about dollars Female rap Tony Montana bubble like saunas Bring the armor make your block look like a tiny Pearl Harbor You wants no drama [Redman] Yo yo.. [Chorus] [Chorus x1/2] [Redman] HEY LADIEEEES!! Yo wild Wild the fuck out (wild the fuck out) Dumb the fuck out (dumb the fuck out) HEY LADIEEEES!! Yo wild Wild the fuck out (wild the fuck out) Dumb the fuck out (dumb the fuck out) HEY LADIEEEES!! Yo wild Wild the fuck out (wild the fuck out) Dumb the fuck out (dumb the fuck out) HEY LADIEEEES!! Yo wild Wild the fuck out (wild the fuck out) Dumb the fuck out (dumb the fuck out) [Lady Luck] Luck's the name Stay a-bove the game, for ones bust them thangs Yo, you niggaz can't stop me This chick is cocky with the big body papi bought me |
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from Dj Clue? - The Professional 2 (2000)
(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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from Jay-Z - Anything [single] (2000)
[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uh uh uh It's big pimpin baby.. It's big pimpin, spendin G's Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh.. Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah.. You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em Cause I don't fuckin need em Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good But I don't fuckin feed em First time they fuss I'm breezin Talkin bout, "What's the reasons?" I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch Better trust than believe em In the cut where I keep em til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up Let em play with the dick in the truck Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs Divorce him and split his bucks Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. parts with nothin, y'all be frontin Me give my heart to a woman? Not for nothin, never happen I'll be forever mackin Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion I got no patience And I hate waitin.. Hoe get yo' ass in And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah Chorus One: Jay-Z We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin G's Check em out now Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin G's We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B [Bun B] Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario Comin straight up out the black bar-rio Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh Oops, my bad, that's my scenario No I can't fuck a scary hoe Now every time, every place, everywhere we go Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!" Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit We don't pull it out over little shit And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me and you see us comin down on yo' slab Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it But nigga if you hatin I then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track Timbaland let me spit my pro's on Pump it up in the pro-zone That's the track that we breakin these hoes on Ain't the track that we flow's on But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man Fo' real it don't get no bigger man Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool Chorus Two: Bun B We be.. big pimpin, spendin G's We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin G's And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga [Pimp C] Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise Chorus Two |
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4:43 | 
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| from Lady Libra - All Up In My Business [single] (2005) | |||||
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| from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) | |||||
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