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| from Wu-Tang Clan - Wu Tang Vs. Shaolin Masters (2011) | |||||
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| from Symbolic One & Illmind - The Art Of Onemind (2007) | |||||
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5:10 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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5:16 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:49 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:18 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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2:22 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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2:22 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:16 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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4:18 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:06 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:22 | 
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005)
(feat. Method Man)
[Talkbox Parts] [Intro/Talkbox] It's the Mafia [Lil Cease] Uh, uh, say what, say what It's the J-M-C in the motherfuckin' house y'all niggaz ain't (here we go), say what Let's get it poppin' like the L popped the cris' (get it poppin') Get my mind right so I can slide with a bitch (oohhh) Cease spot her well I got the eye for the chick Ass and tits fat with the juicy lips Mami let me holla at you for a few ticks Get to know your name while you light some spliffs Let me get inside your mind for some major shit Let me put you on to some old gangsta shit (gangsta shit) I step up in the club so fresh and so clean clean (clean clean) Maxout, and Mafia the american dream team (dream team) Big free rollin' on dubs with the bling bling When it comes to stuntin' for it shit ain't no thang thang Niggaz ain't slackin' niggaz just packin' Bet you don't want to see the G-U-N-C'S Shit is off the hook, ma please believe it Move +Dem Thangs+ Like +Angie Martinez+ (for my gangstas) [Chorus/Talkbox] Let's keep it rockin' We got the cris', let's get it poppin' We got haaaze, let's get the smokin', ??? on somethin' Cause I don't see nothin' wrong (no I don't baby) With smokin', bustin', fuckin' hoes all night long [Banger] Hey Mami Peace to all my fly hunnies To all my niggaz gettin' money To all my real gangstas sittin' on 20's Lace your pinky, your wrist your neck full of jewelery Live your life to the fullest if you feel me, bitch Shake it to the left, shake it to the right I put my dick in a hoe every single night (every single night) What more can I say I can show you the best tell it I +Get My Freak On+ way more than +Missy Elliot+ And if you think somethin' sweet We do like uncle L and swing a F through your jeep Ass like trina (take it to the house) Freak like adina (take it in your mouth) Cause if you ain't up on thangs Bang bang be the name J-M-C's the gang I rep M-A-X, O-U-T Blaze hoes from N-Y, cali to south beach (to all my gangstas) [Chorus/Talkbox x2] Let's keep it rockin' We got the cris', let's get it poppin' We got haaaze, let's get the smokin', ??? on somethin' Cause I don't see nothin' wrong (no I don't baby) With smokin', bustin', fuckin' hoes all night long [Cont. Talkbox] It's the mafia, you know there ain't nothin' wrong Baby you know there ain't nothin' wrong You know there ain't nothin' wrong I want to fuck you all night long, stop it baby You know there ain't nothin' wrong Baby you know there ain't nothin' wrong Smoke a blunt, smoke a blunt Ohh all night long, it's the mafia Oooo let's keep it rockin', it's the mafia It's the mafia, it's the mafia, it's the mafia Oooooo it's the mafiaaaa Mafioso... |
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5:09 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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3:13 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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4:16 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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4:39 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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4:23 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Riot Musik (2005) | |||||
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2:53 |
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from X-Ecutioners - Revolutions (2004)
(feat. Black Thought, Ghostface Killah, Trife Da God)
[sample] One two, one two, one two, one two So you wanna start up, what we gonna tear shit up? I said let the turntables talk for me at first And then I should finish the rest [Hook x2: Ghostface Killah] Theodore Deini, Deini, Deini, Deini (say what) Theodore Deini, Deini, Deini, Deini (say what) Theodore Deini, Deini, Deini, Deini (say what) Deeeeeeeeeeeeeee [Intro: Ghostface Killah] Aiyo, what up? Aiyo, what's poppin' and shit Yo, this your man, Ghost Deini and shit, Trife Diesel on the side Money Come First, Theodore Unit, aiyo, son blind these niggaz Throw bleachin' [Trife Da God] Aiyo, aiyo, what's poppin' out in Stapleton Park, hoppin' the V's Call Ghost, special invited host, bring through the seeds Sun beamin' like a hundred degrees, yo Tone! Hurry up, get your ass in the truck, it's time to leave [Ghostface Killah] Hold on, I gotta polish my ring, throw on my Clarks And you know, I can't iron man garments, without the stars, just Double park, give me ten minutes or less I overslept, my bitch left, and my crib is a mess [scratches and talk] "If you not down, you not an M.C. or a D.J., off the stage" [Trife Da God] It's the Theodore event, so they blocked off the streets And we came here to chill, but the cops wanna beef Little kids, shootin' hoops on the court, playin' horse All the young bucks, rocking new gear, try'nna floss [Ghostface Killah] Say no more, let's motivate Trife, throw on your poker face Spin around the block one time, so we can spoke the place Yeah, it's lookin' lavish, and the scene looks wonderful Pockets full of trees, and my shit look colorful [Trife Da God] We got the X-Men spinnin', on the one's and two's No drugs, no violence, leave home the guns and tools And the grill's just cookin' up chicken and steak And greedy ass Uncle Ronnie, yo, he lickin' the plate [Interlude: ?] Ladies and gentlemen, we got Black Thought in the house tonight Yo, he just came from off tour, and I think he wanna spit something, yo! [Black Thought] Yo, we X-Ecute 'em, with the rapid fire, pealin' your face off Sprayin' up the party, from the ceiling with napalm Shots follow the target, I ain't gon chase ya'll Swinging aluminum bats, that's not for baseball It's humor, the way ya'll makin' me laugh I'm like a, natural born hustler, gotta get that cash The way a natural born, freak, gotta shake that ass And anybody wanna eat, gotta break that fast A million crabs in a barrel, try'nna make they splash Break away fast, nice brother's finish in last It don't, matter the speakers, or the hammers can blast To handle your ass, frontin', I'mma take your stash And twist it, and bake the whole, projects biscuits This kid is a trendsetter, ya'll just misfits Black Thought, I've been better, ya'll just forgettin' shit Now it's a life or death predicament I step in with a vendetta, then start spittin' shit Then spit game, that's ridiculous, ya'll muthafuckas insignificant I'm three fifty seven, magnificent Stay playin', where them bad bitches is, you feelin' tonight You know they feelin', let the semi automatic bend They fend to have 'em in the ghetto, goin' at it, man They bring it to your block, have it like Pakistan Philly boys bringin' noise, makin' wild static, then We trick cops, even jump out vans, and leave you Sprayed out, stiffer than a mannequin stance You get, laid out, clapped with mechanical hands That kick back, cuz, you and your mans'll get zapped Just keep, thinkin' my peoples, and peoples'll toy with A cold blooded kill shit, and keep on doin' it Cuz that's my pleasure, that's the people's enjoyment Gangsta's holla at me, if you seekin' employment |
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from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol.2 (2004)
(Featuring Jae Millz/Angelous/Cashmere/Trife/Manio/True Life/The Bad Seed)
[Chorus x2: Sample] Get this thing through your head And they will never be no more Tell me, tell me, about it, damn it [Jae Millz] Aiyo, I move with a click that's wreckless And they ain't got no problem spraying your ass, like disinfectant So if I feel disrespected, I promise you family Your body gon' be hollow tip infested I come from the slums of the 212 H-Dub, Lennox Ave, fuck you gon' do? We got wild clips duke, with things that'll hit you And leave a hole so big your moms could put a whole wrist through Homes, you don't wanna push me there To the point, I gotta leave you in a bush somewhere Nah, you don't wanna push me there It ain't worth it, dog, homeboy you better - better, huh Before I aim in you -- huh, it's real You heard Millz real, and better believe it stupid cuz -- Nah, come on, Slay you know who to holla at I'm heavy ever where from Harlem to the bottom where the rude boys and shottas sat Hell is what I'm giving em, fuck hurtin', I'm killing em Got legends ready to pick back up they pen and spit again [Angelous] I nurture the track, the perfect of rap Its nonsense how the don, get curved it, to clap You miss me, simply, I asserted the track Kay classic, the same game, dog, with packs Mobsters with the arms up, feel the game wit me Bomb up, as I conduct, this is Ang' furry, huh I made berry, the whole league in Jones Beach And bake berry, the H jerry's is so sweet So brief, aim's gone, in the building O.G.'s ain't honor the brilliant, except for the minds That push the breathe, for the best to colide Better yet, I put the X in define Never fret, when it's beef, I put the pep' in the nine From your brain to my watch, you be ahead of my time Aim/shift, your brain wrist, the gate aimed to lift The game will keep going because Angelous exists, bitch [Chorus] [Cashmere] What up, it's Cashmere, ya, your new rap fellow We in hoods like the jam in '86, hello You know what that means? Ya'll the rap queen Bunch of bitch niggaz, bow to your new king And after this there won't be no more You dudes, is full of hype, that's what TV's for So, get it through your head, or the nine'll leave, eight holes in your head Think I'm playing, nigga? I have my peeps pop out my the van And you lookin like, a soldier out of Pakistan Ask them dudes on this track, they'll tell you Cash the man Whatever he doing, trust me, I know I can I'm ahead of him, eight miles and running I'm done busting shots, the next hit, the bomb drops You cocksuckers is about to die, and -- let's go, come on [Chorus] [Trife Da God] Either you get it through the head, or you get it through the leg Either way, you graze these bullets, is gonna leave you dead And I ain't freezin' up, when it's time to pull it, you heard what I said It's Theodore nigga, we all about the bread, niggaz And it's time for a reality check, yet I'm celeb in the hood And I ain't even seen a salary yet Ya'll niggaz flee when my calvary's step Staten Island we rep, stylin' to death, pumpin' gallons to wet And like Nick, yeah, I stay with the Cannon Lay in fours, get, kid you stuck wherever you standing Lay you on the strip, play you for a bitch, you punk Pussy, you dealin' with crumbs, so stop actin' like you one tough cookie I'm not the greatest, I'm the latest, ya'll faggots is imitators Air you out like venilators, and bang you like skinned potatoes Cuz most of ya'll faggots is sounding like little Jada's [Maino] Yo, I speak for the Stuy, Brooklyn is mine, get it through your head 'Fore I round these bullets up and send them through your head Last nigga tried to stunt, left his hat full of lead Left the picture that your see, for the inside of F.E.D.S. I want you to think, that my gun don't burst My tech'll make niggaz back up like cars in reverse Definition of a thug, man, put in your work And nigga act up, you put his work in the earth Yeah, I'm hotter than you ever was, real? You never was Hustle hard, nigga, we get you, whatever drugs Bet you none of ya'll seen, machine guns rattle So I let off, and let you feel the heat off the barrel My dogs rocked up, and got you when you hit the gravel Been a hard hitter, before the Mets signed Darryl I'm your reaper, when I blast the street sweeper You bitch niggaz'll crack up like cheap sneakers [Chorus] [True Life] Yo, ya'll niggaz keep talking greasy, like I won't melt ya'll See me in the streets, got more Smilez than Southstar Pull your socks up, homey, you know what I'm about, yo I was pushing rocks, you pushed the Roc, forgot yo's Lot of niggaz thuggin', but not like me Put the fifth to your nose, for being nosey Fuck a throwback jersey, you trying to be Fabolous End your career, have you resurface like Canibus Nigga's shouldn't have let me loose I'm well when I'm sober, imagine off Cran' and Grey Goose I'm liable to clap the tech Make you take that chain off, but I don't want a rash on my necklace Shit, we ain't the same calibur, listen, your don I treat ho's how I wanna, even got a bad blonde Got bad feet, so I hit her with her shoes on Get this through your head, 'fore I flip over, your Yukon [Bad Seed] Streetsweeper, cock back, run up, where ya block at Gettin' money, stop that, where the fuck ya'll rocks at Bandana on my face, thirty nine on my waist Shoot you if you try to run, nigga you ain't gettin' chased You was poppin' hella shit, all that shit irrelevant Sittin' on cake, and you waiting on the settlement I'm a grown man, never run, never ran And I don't play with kids, this ain't Never Never Land Brooklyn, fuck that, crackers, where my nuts at? You get bucked at, crew you 'fore I Dutch hat I smoke 'Cocoa Brova', stay with a 'Smif-N-Wessun' Skip J in the Garden, and hit Slay session Bad Seed from the top of the hill It's still real though, Tarantino flow, keep it low, I Kill Bill |
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| from More Music From 8 Mile (8마일) [ost] (2003) | |||||
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| from Big Beat Urban Classics (2002) | |||||
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from Big Beat Urban Classics (2002)
[Notorious B.I.G.]Junior M.A.F.I.A.
Niggaz... bitches... Uhh [Chorus: B.I.G.] (Niggaz) Grab your dick if you love hip-hop (Bitches) Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" --> Slick Rick [Verse One: Lil' Ceasar] Check it out, uhh Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit? What are you a idiot? Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's Got mad guns up in the cabin Cause Cease ain't the one for the dibbin and dabbin shit I make it happen, you got your ass caught All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport Or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya I blow up spots like little sisters G'wan grit ya teeth, g'wan bite ya nails to the cuticles Like Murray, my killings, be the most beautiful Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers Niggaz grab your gats, bitches take a glance at The little one, pullin over in the Land Rover Playin Big Willie style with a chaffeur, yaknahmean? Stack the green, read all between the lines A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find [Chorus: x2] [Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.] (How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) I'm surrounded by criminals Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals Smokin skunk and mad Phillies Beatin down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses If robbery's a class, bet I pass it Shit get drastic, I'm buryin ya bastards Big Poppa never softenin Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin Leave the fucker coughin up blood, and his pockets like rabbit ears Covered the wife, kleenex for the kid's tears Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches She whippin my ride, countin my one's, thinkin I'm richest Just the way players play, all day everyday I don't know what else to say I've been robbin niggaz since Run and them was singin 'Here We Go' Snatchin ropes at the Roxie homeboy you didn't know My flow, detrimental to your health Usually roll for self, I have son ridin shotgun My mind's my nine, my pen's my Mac-10 My target, all you wack niggaz who started rappin Junior M.A.F.I.A. steelo, niggaz know the half Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths Runnin up in pretty bitches constantly The Smalls bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be? [Chorus: x2] [Verse Three: Lil' Kim] I used to pack Macs in Cadillacs Now I pimp gats in the Ac's, watch my niggaz backs Nines in the stores, glocks in the bags Maxin mini-markets, gettin money with the Arabs No question, confession, yes it's the lyrical Bitches squeeze your tits, niggaz grab your genitals Proteins and minerals, excluse subliminals Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals I kick the rilli with my peeps all day 325's roll by with the windows down halfway D-K-N-Y, oh my, I'm jiggy It's all about the Smalls and my fuckin nigga Biggie Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme Cause they all in line screamin one more time Niggaz, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up |
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from Dj Clue? - The Professional 2 (2000)
[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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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996)
Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [x3]
[Kim] Hehehe [Big] WHAT? Uhh, sex em up [Kim] The fuck? That shit ain't even ?? big boy [Big] Oh aight, you don't, you don't get none of that shit Uhh, check it out [Kim] Bout to "get money" [Notorious B.I.G.] You wanna sip Mo' on my living room flo' Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo Pick up my phone say, "Poppa not home" Sex all night, mad head in the morn' Spin my V, smoke all my weed Tattoo on tit-tie sayin B-I-G, now check it You wanna be my main squeeze baby Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think Full length mink, fat X and O links Bracelets to match, conversation was all that Showed you the safe combinations and all that Guess you could say youse the one I trusted Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard? Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot Took me to court, tried to take all I got 'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her "Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?" My Mo-sci-no hoe, my Ver-sa-ce hottie Come to find out, you was fuckin everybody You knew about me, the fake ID Cases in Virginia, body in D.C. Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin Lick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was, "Poppa don't hit me no more" Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial Fuck around and made her milkbox material You feel me? Suckin dick, runnin your lips 'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uhh.. Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [x3] [Big] WHAT? I see mad girls like you [Kim] You seen mad girls just ACTIN hot [Big] I'm tellin you though [Kim] There AIN'T nobody like me [Big] You just frontin, there's people out like that [Kim] ?? [Lil' Kim] Uhh, whoo! Get at me Whoo, I told you niggaz Niggaz.. betta grab a seat Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound Now I'm Billboard now, niggaz press to hit it Play me like a chicken, thinkin I'm pressed to get it Rather do the killin than the stick up jooks Rather count a million while you eat my pussy Push me to the limit get my feelings in it Get me open while I'm cummin down your throat Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga Don'tcha wanna see me whippin your 3 down the Ave. Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad Break up affairs lick shots in the air You get vexed, and start swingin everywhere Me shifty? Now you wanna pistol whip me Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine Yeah what nigga? I ain't got time for this So what nigga? I'm not tryin to hear that shit Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots Things that make up, for all the games and the lies Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize" Is you wit me? How could you ever decieve me But payback's a bitch motherfucker, believe me Naw I ain't gay this aint no lesbo flow Just a lil somethin, to let you motherfuckers know Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [repeat to end] [Kim] Wait a minute, wait a minute Back up, just give me that shit, this shit is mine [Big] Oh you want my numbers and shit [Kim] ?? [Big] Look, now you wanna ?? [Kim] I'm all that bitch, don't ask You're fuckin with a bitch named Aphrodite [Big] Y'all believe that shit? [Kim] Just playin with you, worrd ?? daddy is all that, oh word ?? I'm talkin bout some presidents Talkin bout this motherfuckin cash [Big] Whatever you don't think about this My nickname was Jesus in high school [Kim] You don't even believe that shit! God don't believe that shit! [Big] I'm the supreme being baby |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996)
Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [x3]
[Kim] Hehehe [Big] WHAT? Uhh, sex em up [Kim] The fuck? That shit ain't even ?? big boy [Big] Oh aight, you don't, you don't get none of that shit Uhh, check it out [Kim] Bout to "get money" [Notorious B.I.G.] You wanna sip Mo' on my living room flo' Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo Pick up my phone say, "Poppa not home" Sex all night, mad head in the morn' Spin my V, smoke all my weed Tattoo on tit-tie sayin B-I-G, now check it You wanna be my main squeeze baby Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think Full length mink, fat X and O links Bracelets to match, conversation was all that Showed you the safe combinations and all that Guess you could say youse the one I trusted Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard? Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot Took me to court, tried to take all I got 'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her "Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?" My Mo-sci-no hoe, my Ver-sa-ce hottie Come to find out, you was fuckin everybody You knew about me, the fake ID Cases in Virginia, body in D.C. Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin Lick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was, "Poppa don't hit me no more" Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial Fuck around and made her milkbox material You feel me? Suckin dick, runnin your lips 'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uhh.. Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [x3] [Big] WHAT? I see mad girls like you [Kim] You seen mad girls just ACTIN hot [Big] I'm tellin you though [Kim] There AIN'T nobody like me [Big] You just frontin, there's people out like that [Kim] ?? [Lil' Kim] Uhh, whoo! Get at me Whoo, I told you niggaz Niggaz.. betta grab a seat Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound Now I'm Billboard now, niggaz press to hit it Play me like a chicken, thinkin I'm pressed to get it Rather do the killin than the stick up jooks Rather count a million while you eat my pussy Push me to the limit get my feelings in it Get me open while I'm cummin down your throat Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga Don'tcha wanna see me whippin your 3 down the Ave. Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad Break up affairs lick shots in the air You get vexed, and start swingin everywhere Me shifty? Now you wanna pistol whip me Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine Yeah what nigga? I ain't got time for this So what nigga? I'm not tryin to hear that shit Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits Adrienne Vitadini and Chanel 9 boots Things that make up, for all the games and the lies Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize" Is you wit me? How could you ever decieve me But payback's a bitch motherfucker, believe me Naw I ain't gay this aint no lesbo flow Just a lil somethin, to let you motherfuckers know Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money [repeat to end] [Kim] Wait a minute, wait a minute Back up, just give me that shit, this shit is mine [Big] Oh you want my numbers and shit [Kim] ?? [Big] Look, now you wanna ?? [Kim] I'm all that bitch, don't ask You're fuckin with a bitch named Aphrodite [Big] Y'all believe that shit? [Kim] Just playin with you, worrd ?? daddy is all that, oh word ?? I'm talkin bout some presidents Talkin bout this motherfuckin cash [Big] Whatever you don't think about this My nickname was Jesus in high school [Kim] You don't even believe that shit! God don't believe that shit! [Big] I'm the supreme being baby |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996) | |||||
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996)
[Chorus hooks:]
[Method Man] I got more glocks and tecks than you [Biggie Smalls] Still seein bodies wit da muthafuckin chalk around 'em [x2] [Trife] I thought I told you Never to trust, nobody but us Now the gats must bust Malicious black viper venomous There's gonna be a lotta white chalk and brains on the sidewalk I know you hear me Nigga talk [Larceny] Nigga I'm weak-in, can't move my mouth to speak-in They caught me creepin Deep in the hood peepin Larce was sneakin they took me off my feet-in But fucked up because my heart's still beatin I can't sleep, thinkin how I'mma creep Burners to squeeze but can't get up to help my ememies [Trife] Psychopath, when the days of wrath Resolve the conflict, I'mma lick who did it And who da fuck was wit it Till they dead covered blood red Pumpin lead till them bastards ain't got no head The raw deal, bad era switched to terror You could pray all day but still gone die anyway [Chorus] [x4] [Larceny] When I come, I'm comin right Fuck tip toein in the night I tear'em up in broad daylight Snakes too crudoo for you Nigga catch deja vu When I'm aimin my gat at you [Trife] It's time ta make it happen Fuck the yappin I'mma, step the fuck up and start clappin Double action Two fo' fo', we robbers for satisfaction Clickin off reaction [Larceny] All those robberies we breezed Backed down DTs Feelin the murder disease Thou shall die when I catch you And lick you in your eye Nigga, nice try [Trife] Our whole life, and thinkin Centered in drugs Twin mack loaded slugs and buckin at them other thugs Engraved, with the mark of the beast The shots I released increased aimin for dey head piece [Chorus] [x4] [Larceny, Trife] Murder's the death penalty Don't need nobody Helpin me but the other half of snake and me Us two combined, shots ta lick [Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique] Now who goes the road against it [Trife] Niggaz got drama I'ma kill his (baby) first And then his (momma) Ain't no time for bitchin Callin police and snitchin You live by the gun, you die by the gun Don't do this killin shit for real, why do the shit for fun? Try ta murder my blood, can't let it slide Family pride committin grisly homicide Blunted, lame niggaz get hunted Autopsy shows he felt the black rhinos Fuckin witta pro I hit, I don't miss Niggaz spit clips disappear in the mist, check it I showed you rugged put you fools in dirt Tryin ta put in work But only gettin ya fuckin self hurt [Chorus] [x4] [Outro:] [Trife] For my niggaz; Nino Brown, Lil' Ceaser, B.I.G., Bugsy, Capone, Cheek Del Vek, Lil' Kim, Kleptomaniac... Motherfucker |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Gettin' Money/White Chalk/Get Money-6 Tracks (1996)
[Chorus hooks:]
[Method Man] I got more glocks and tecks than you [Biggie Smalls] Still seein bodies wit da muthafuckin chalk around 'em [x2] [Trife] I thought I told you Never to trust, nobody but us Now the gats must bust Malicious black viper venomous There's gonna be a lotta white chalk and brains on the sidewalk I know you hear me Nigga talk [Larceny] Nigga I'm weak-in, can't move my mouth to speak-in They caught me creepin Deep in the hood peepin Larce was sneakin they took me off my feet-in But fucked up because my heart's still beatin I can't sleep, thinkin how I'mma creep Burners to squeeze but can't get up to help my ememies [Trife] Psychopath, when the days of wrath Resolve the conflict, I'mma lick who did it And who da fuck was wit it Till they dead covered blood red Pumpin lead till them bastards ain't got no head The raw deal, bad era switched to terror You could pray all day but still gone die anyway [Chorus] [x4] [Larceny] When I come, I'm comin right Fuck tip toein in the night I tear'em up in broad daylight Snakes too crudoo for you Nigga catch deja vu When I'm aimin my gat at you [Trife] It's time ta make it happen Fuck the yappin I'mma, step the fuck up and start clappin Double action Two fo' fo', we robbers for satisfaction Clickin off reaction [Larceny] All those robberies we breezed Backed down DTs Feelin the murder disease Thou shall die when I catch you And lick you in your eye Nigga, nice try [Trife] Our whole life, and thinkin Centered in drugs Twin mack loaded slugs and buckin at them other thugs Engraved, with the mark of the beast The shots I released increased aimin for dey head piece [Chorus] [x4] [Larceny, Trife] Murder's the death penalty Don't need nobody Helpin me but the other half of snake and me Us two combined, shots ta lick [Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique] Now who goes the road against it [Trife] Niggaz got drama I'ma kill his (baby) first And then his (momma) Ain't no time for bitchin Callin police and snitchin You live by the gun, you die by the gun Don't do this killin shit for real, why do the shit for fun? Try ta murder my blood, can't let it slide Family pride committin grisly homicide Blunted, lame niggaz get hunted Autopsy shows he felt the black rhinos Fuckin witta pro I hit, I don't miss Niggaz spit clips disappear in the mist, check it I showed you rugged put you fools in dirt Tryin ta put in work But only gettin ya fuckin self hurt [Chorus] [x4] [Outro:] [Trife] For my niggaz; Nino Brown, Lil' Ceaser, B.I.G., Bugsy, Capone, Cheek Del Vek, Lil' Kim, Kleptomaniac... Motherfucker |
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| from Sunset Park (썬셋 파크) by Miles Goodman [ost] (1996) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem(6) (1995) | |||||
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Smile in your face! Yeaaah! Back Stabbers! INTRO/CHORUS They smile in your face All the time they wanna take your place The back stabbers!(Back stabbers) VERSE 1:(LIL KIM AKA BIG MOMMA) The Buda got my brain seein my own my blood stains Dental records checkin my remains,it's hard to explain First I see 'em then I don't, they disappear First she tried to slit my throat,now she ain't there I'm seein bitches in the mirrors behind me But when I turn around, they hard to find See a little bit of weed and a little bit of greed Make a bitch wanna choke me till I bleed Now watch a bitch breathe from dum-dums That some young bum had to bust just for wreck Earn some self-respect,now should I tote a fo' pound 'Cause a clown wants my autograph Broken off that hash I think he wants my cash The Lexus and rings,give a sex simple and plain But these bitches is mad an' they niggas is bad So they scheme on a CREAM,you know Fuck the hos,bitches is detrimental,the guns is essential CHORUS x 2 VERSE 2:(LIL KIM) I'm having re-occuring dreams-bitches they want my CREAM They wanna be lieutenant so it seems,I can't sleep I see an image that keeps movin round and round my bed The shadow stops,points a Glock to my fuckin head I grab my pillow,crack the back window pull out the tre-8,bust three times at the gate LORD have mercy!The devil tryin to curse me I keeps seeing shit that wasn't there in the first See bitches be livin mad fad-they fuck my man Steal out my crib,then come an' try an' shake my hand Yeah man,breakin you down one time I packs that shit for your ass,Chronic for your mind I keeps it real on all you bitches,I wish you keep your mind Off my motherfuckin riches Bitches,I'm tired of all you hos beggin me for clothes Bank rolls is all I knows,that shit is dead chicken-head! CHORUS x 2 VERSE 3:(LIL KIM) The morning's finally here,damn!What should I wear? Time to get dressed and do my hair,once again it's on Somebody's knockin at my door,but when I walk across the floor Just ope' it up,the motherfucker's gone I'm hearing voices in the back of my mind Better grab my 2,'cause this fool might get outta line I guess it's time to test this bullet-proof dress From putting holes up in my chest I'm lookin through the peep-hole to recognise the face I see three bitches and still I got to play it safe I hope my dress come in handy,but when I open the door Three little girls selling candy,ya see bitches is jealous Of Little Kim because my click is thicker than the rest of them All I wanna do is be rich and stay that bitch Clock dough on the law,y'know? CHORUS TO FADE |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Intro: [News Report] Statistics have shown that youth violence is at record high today in America due to excessive use of drugs and alcohol- MAAAN!!! How da fuck do you know!!!! [Larceny] My mind's just spinnin off dat indo smoke Got me seein double visions 'cause I'm tore up loc It's no joke, da weed smoke got me crazaay And da B&J got me pissy like a baby I was fuckin wit deez twinz gettin crazy endz Robbin jewelry stores for da cash and da gems Identical bastards on some fast shit Tried to stash it Took the nine plastic, had they fam on some sad shit [Trife] My conscience buggin Filled wit all the bad memories I'm visionin dead enemies tryin ta kill me In my sleep, same niggaz dat I put to rest Got me wakin up pourin down a hella sweat The drugs got a nigga high and I can't explain Tye and skunk playin tricks on my fuckin brain Shit is strange 'cause I know deez muthafuckas dead You see the murder still flash back in my head Chorus: Smokin dat denk, sippin dat drink Make a nigga act kinda crazaay (REPEAT 4X) [Larceny] Nigga it's dark, it's hard for me ta fuckin see I guess the hash and Hennesy got da best of me I got da urge for a snake related killin spree Larceny, bent on da marijuana trees Murder conracts Collectin C note stacks, I react And push the niggaz shit back (uh huh) I neva new this young buck would be a lonester 'Till they hung my picture, wanted on a poster I pack two hot glocks, fuck the holsters Neva new this lil' G would get the most of Robbin and stealin, then led to killin Makin a livin Offa muthafuckin drug dealin Then came beef, The Snakes was wanted in the streets Shit got hot, my other half did a creep Handled his business 'cause he was on his third body Then laid low wit dis freak ass hottie Chorus (REPEAT 4X) [Trife] I of da Snakes Watch for fakes and jakes Blood money I make, transactions up state Sparkin weed and drinkin The buddha still got me thinkin Thoughts o' death and all the bodies that I left Face down, you know the routine for the cream Means necessary Cock suckas got buried Nigga raise up or get blazed up Who be da one lastin Cock the fifth and start blastin Try me Die instantly, a couple o' shots is all it takes Aim slugs to ya face Perpetrator fraud, I kill you and ya broad Got yo ass wishin you was out dis position Listen, the ganja have me on a mission Stick the clip in I stop all the bullshittin I get it on Trife, killin ass nigga rule the streets Creep wit da heat stashed in the Montero jeep Chorus (REPEAT 4X) |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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4:34 |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money (3X) [Kim] Hehehe [Big] WHAT? Uhh, sex em up [Kim] The fuck? That shit ain't even ?? big boy [Big] Oh aight, you don't, you don't get none of that shit Uhh, check it out [Kim] Bout to "get money" [Notorious B.I.G.] You wanna sip Mo' on my living room flo' Play Nintendo with Cease-a-Leo Pick up my phone say, "Poppa not home" Sex all night, mad head in the morn' Spin my V, smoke all my weed Tattoo on tit-tie sayin B-I-G, now check it You wanna be my main squeeze baby Don'tcha, you wanna gimme what I need baby Won'tcha, picture life as my wife just think Full length mink, fat X and O links Bracelets to match, conversation was all that Showed you the safe combinations and all that Guess you could say youse the one I trusted Who would ever think that you would spread like mustard? Shit got hot, you sent Feds to my spot Took me to court, tried to take all I got 'Nother intricate plot, the bitch said I raped her "Damn, why she wanna stick me for my paper?" My Mo-sci-no hoe, my Ver-sa-ce hottie Come to find out, you was fuckin everybody You knew about me, the fake ID Cases in Virginia, body in D.C. Woe, oh is me, that's what I get for trickin Pay my own bail, commence to ass kickin Lick in the door, wavin the four-four All you heard was, "Poppa don't hit me no more" Disrespect my click, my shit's imperial Fuck around and made her milkbox material You feel me? Suckin dick, runnin your lips 'Cause of you, I'm on some real fuck a bitch shit, uhh.. Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money (3X) [Big] WHAT? I see mad girls like you [Kim] You seen mad girls just ACTIN hot [Big] I'm tellin you though [Kim] There AIN'T nobody like me [Big] You just frontin, there's people out like that [Kim] ?? [Lil' Kim] Uhh, whoo! Get at me Whoo, I told you niggaz Niggaz.. betta grab a seat Grab on your dick as this bitch gets deep Deeper than the pussy of a bitch six feet Stiff dicks feel sweet in this little petite Young bitch from the street, guaranteed to stay down Used to bring work outta town on Greyhound Now I'm Billboard now, niggaz press to hit it Play me like a chicken, thinkin I'm pressed to get it Rather do the killin than the stick up jooks Rather count a million while you eat my pussy Push me to the limit get my feelings in it Get me open while I'm cummin down your throat Then, you wanna be my main squeeze nigga Don'tcha, you wanna lick between my knees nigga Don'tcha wanna see me whippin your 3 down the Ave. Blow up spots on bitches because I'm mad Break up affairs lick shots in the air You get vexed, and start swingin everywhere Me shifty? Now you wanna pistol whip me Pull out your nine, while I cock on mine Yeah what nigga? I ain't got time for this So what nigga? I'm not tryin to hear that shit Now you wanna buy me diamonds and Armani suits Adia Vinadini and Chanel lime boots Things that make up, for all the games and the lies Hallmark cards, sayin, "I apologize" Is you wit me? How could you ever decieve me But payback's a bitch motherfucker, believe me Naw I ain't gay this aint no lesbo flow Just a lil somethin, to let you motherfuckers know Fuck bitches, get money.. fuck niggaz, get money (*repeat to end*) [Kim] Wait a minute, wait a minute Back up, just give me that shit, this shit is mine [Big] Oh you want my numbers and shit [Kim] ?? [Big] Look, now you wanna ?? [Kim] I'm all that bitch, don't ask You're fuckin with a bitch named Aphrodite [Big] Y'all believe that shit? [Kim] Just playin with you, worrd ?? daddy is all that, oh word ?? I'm talkin bout some presidents Talkin bout this motherfuckin cash [Big] Whatever you don't think about this My nickname was Jesus in high school [Kim] You don't even believe that shit! God don't believe that shit! [Big] I'm the supreme being baby |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Baby listen, bets to believe I can give you what you want and all that you need Mackin' all the ladies, from the fly to the shady Marquis diamonds, 600 Mersadies I'll fly you across the seas in a private jet Whisper shit in ya ear to get ya panties wet, honey I'll show you how Good life can get, wining and dinning nonchalaunt in the finests Resturaunts, feed you lobster because I'm a true mobster! Lamer niggaz bore ya, lay ya down in the Walldoff Vistoria Victoria Secrets, lengerie I loves to freak shit Dim the lights, sex all through the night King sized beds, Satin sheets gettin' right Wear you out, leave my number by the phone In the morn', I'm gone chorus (sung by Aaliyah): I wonder if I take you home will you still be in love baby Because I need you tonight Wonder if I take you home would you still be in love baby Because I need you tonight home, home home home home Verse Two: Lil' Kim Do you know who I be? Lil' Kim the loot teddy (that's right) Here trying to put it on you fools trying to run up in (what's the matter Big Momma, don't you like what you see) Like my girl Mary B. you just ain't runnin' up in me You got to give me what I need baby, that's a drop top Z baby Martini and Roxy, icedy Spomaonte` Dom Perejoun so we can get it on, Movatto watch Tennis for the wrists, nigga you ain't ever since no ice like this So now you know what you're working with, handle ya business And keep coming with that stuff that I like, light a candle I'm too hot to handle, I see your eyes sizin' up my hips and my thighs Man I'll do things to you, Vanessa Del Rio would be shamed to do chorus: Verse Three: Kleptomaniac Mack ass niggaz, smooth like Tom Cat and ?Masusso? Games for pro leading parties with bitches and a sex Coupes Who spittin' game, all without the eye contact We're all without contracts, laying my game down flat Kleptomaniac, rides in this rhythm that you give him I'm that right, let press ya suns you got to get ya skins tight Catching mobile phones, showing women how to live life If that's your girl, she wasn't last night Made her life worth while, Benjamins by the piles Turn her frowns to smiles, lvin' Goodfellaz life style Nails done and hair, living rooms with chandelaers Sex in a strech Lex, no cares for who wanna stare Yeah now that's a real women for ya, higherd Vecks and lawyers Pearl gems and tag for ya's, Bachelor Degrees Bringin' home bacon and cheese, freaky Shaundra ain't afraid to get some Dirt up on her knees chorus: |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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2:43 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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3:53 |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
(Kleptomaniac) Lyrical wizardry dances on MC's like Murray on SC's Never flaunt, now motherfuckers come test me Burnin everybody hotter than torches at Jamaican parties Far from angels, niggas can't see me like Charlie Style weak? Hardly! Don't let the wacked persue you like Marley JM clique moves in packs like whities on Harleys Niggas get injured, fucked do' in 40 fingers Got bitches by bike bar bussin Glocks off a' niggas Klep don't give three shits to flip scripts Miss bullets from clips, leave niggas rollin up skateboards wit nuttin under they hips, bitch, so if you test me shit gets messy, bustin .38 speci outta paper bags like Joe Pesci Yo, you know the tune Make sure bitches don't eat when it's time to shit out them coke balloons Balked up the ninja when it got shady, now I got grown ladies bustin .380's outta E Class Mercedes (Hurry the fuck up bitchm, get on!) (Fuck you motherfucker let me out this L) (There they go right there, dot them niggas) (Motherfuckers!! *gun shots*) MC's get cut like glass, cut like glass Rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat ass Who wanna get broke the fuck up? Tell me! Freakin vocabulary like Chinese and spelling bees T-P-E-L-K held to reflect a device-es The nicest, Jesus Christ-es Junior Mafioso, niggas get torn off head to torso Bullets evacuated out windows From Hekkyl and Coch, P7 inmates Extra .380 on a string 'round my neck cos feds check the waist No time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break Heads are clockin, private eyes are watchin Nigga caught up in the hustle Fuck flippin packages and tyin up, minx and rings I bubble Trouble's what I look for in stores on expensive floors Beeling boots is essence, bookin Pelle's in my drawers Armani, Gianni Versace, V2 lost count o' all the little sections me and mans ran thru It ain't hard to discard cans of mace on guards leave them bitch ass niggas screamin like a fuckin retard Lyrically I come off like ink alarms Got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms Niggas couldn't see me with closed circuit TV tryin to peep my steez, like DT's I get over like I'm fifteen (Hey, you're not fifteen) I'm fifteen, what? (What do you think we are? Assholes or somethin?) Fuck you! Soundin like that nigga from Night Court Loose my cuffs I'm outta here! MC's be fake like toupes so I transplant Implant my fist to their face makin their skin red Soundwaves disrupted, they fucked, kid Airholes bloody rupted but that ain't nuttin The best is yet to come MC's get strung like heads on drums They don't be knowin what I'm knowin Flowin like I'm flowin Makin motherfuckers take nose dives like 747 Boeings Obnoxious beef's squashes face-to-face Niggas get wet up like Alasha's on Klep's place Thru the hard time sayin prayers committin crimes Sick minds don't care, rockin parties from front to rear Brains engulfed by ferocious ??? runnin up on Big wit Lex wit nappies doused with chloroforms Livin in a world where you do what you must If preachers be robbin niggas who the fuck can you trust? |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Intro: Cheek Del Vec Uhh (what?) Trife & Larceny in the fuckin house (uhh) My nigga Klep in the fuckin house (Kleptomaniac) and me (uhh, uhh), Cheek Del Vec (Del Vec, aight) Aight! (One love) Uhh, check it (Snake-killin ass niggas, JM one love) Verse 1: Del Vec, Kleptomaniac Del Vec, little niggas pushing Landcruiser jeeps gettin blunted all day, every day of the week Nights in Maxima's and Acura's Got bitches drivin 929 Mazda's, Tammy and Rhonda Drivin rope down south in the Honda I'm behind her in the Pathfinder gettin blunted, my nigga need all, the XL 600 ridin smoothly playin low-key, watch my bitch with the brick in the Civic sellin mad weight Outta state and shit, I can't wait til this record shit is straight So we can recuperate, get the dough and I'm gone Motherfuckers fear me, I blow up spots like Ed Leary Violent pro's even with guns like Sharon Stone Mack ass nigga strikes again, chalk my win Kleptomaniac attracts CREAM stacks from eight pens And sticky hands wit crazy glue like finger tips shoplift Or pass crews on mountain bikes bustin four-fifths Diamond Vagettes, Rolex for the bitch, flex and maxin de Moet, signin my signature on cheques Crime motherfuckin pays when you know what you're doin and gettin loops since niggas was rockin Hawaiian suits What? Don't shoot *gun shot* leave ya family upset Tight the trip DT's, chasin down robbery suspect Chorus: Larceny Murder Onez to get the Fonz and fast to die young JM motherfucker, go get your guns Murder Onez to get the Fonz and fast to die young JM motherfucker, go get your guns *repeat* Verse 2: Trife, Larceny Gettin richer cos I move coke and bust quicker Bitches get richer, jealous niggas wanna hit'cha Stashin my guns to protect my ones I see the cash flow, torch it I blast, you know how it go In the 5-double 0 SL puffin L's lit while Larce loadin shells in the clip Snakes-murder men formin plots Lickin shots outta drop tops and it don't stop us from gettin the Luchicreno My clique tight like gambino's stickin casinos Bussin down kilos, me and Trife for life JM shorty's on the run Cocksucker go get your guns Chorus x 1/2 Verse 3: Klep, Del Vec, Trife I smoke so much weed, I know my lungs is fucked up Stick guns I get'cha, spit sperm when I cum Party done, use to hustle bubble with concealed capsules under my tongue til my mouth got numb Now I watch my back like spighty sense was tinglin Minglin in clubs with Jm puffin on mo' teams Don't oppose me, shit ain't rosy Murderin-lyrical gangsta like Ini Kamoze Del Vec project was set down south with two Tek I murdered that, we got mad respect Sheisty niggas and vicars puffin 20's and 50's on the block I got shit on lock in Little Rock My bitch got knocked, she sold to a undercover cop went to jail, put the Benz up for bail Now I'm fucked up in the cut I got to move to a diff'rent state to make some quick bucks As I look around me, dead bodies surround me Part of drug dealin-killin millions to make millions Sittin on top, tote Glocks smokin pounds and phillies by the box, gettin head on the yacht Presidential rollin, watch hos clock me wit tha 420 Bodyin motherfuckers for this money Chorus x2 |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
[Kleptomaniac] Why niggaz wanna clock me? like that dance called the chachi Don't they know I break motherfuckers into parts like Rocky Part I, part II, part III, niggaz can't fuck with me My style's knock-kneed plum crazy (what?) Who's that wild ass motherfucker catchin wreck Stickin Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques It's Klep the death specialist, Stallone and Stone shit Stayin high representin for the nine-quint Ras bad guy, burns the house down like Left Eye Why try mimic? MC's get broke like speed limits (uhh) Niggaz can't fuck with my metaphors Canin MC's like they in Singapore; Klep been through more wards than Humphrey Shore, put together catchin leathers on the regular, got that net, push me round and Dread stressin a trick hoe, what the Dread won't know won't hurt Robbin his workers for they work; now, WHOSE TURF IS THIS? It's Klep's, the clothes wreckers' Life interceptor, pussy collector Got your bitch on my dick and I ain't even stressin her Check enough sex in her, my styles are regular Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique moves in like the senator Hook: Niggas say "Oh my lord!" [Notorious B.I.G.] Throw gats to *Guiliani* Flows tighter than bitches punani, try me, die G Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out the tip of his dick, Biggie Smalls with the wickedest shit Spit clips, niggaz split like bananas Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach I strangle each -- negro for they dough Niggaz get to bendin, got two cases, one pendin 560 V-12 engine, women spinnin in 9-2-9 Mazda's, Tammy and Natasha The menage-a-trois around my waist like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Ac's Windows cracked, so sit back relax Yo Vec, crush the hash, the Beretta's in the stash Hook: repeat 4X [Kleptomaniac] What you doin with yourself? Stone heart's the way to wealth Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt Money makes the world go round, robbin shit Fuck a job shit, niggaz want cribs, bricks and spliffs All-wheel automobiles, traction control for clay roads, rollin with dough, kickin game on the cel with bitches on hold, that's how we roll (uhh) Rhymes got tight as hell so to the bank I stroll (uhh) Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs -- [Notorious B.I.G.] -- the world is mine! Niggaz frontin, feelin twelve gauge pellets BIG is repellant, to all that "He say, she say" We play, Russian roulette, fuck the threat Your whole crew's vagina, you and your co-signer Nigga, we rollin in eight and a halfs, TV's in the dash Three G's in the stash, see we love the cash No coke, then get some more Hook [Kleptomaniac] Niggaz don't know bout my game, they don't know how complex it is, baggin bitches in GS 300 Lexuses and the sex is for summer sports Passports for drug transports to remote resorts Bitches with Donna Karan "Catwoman" suits, matchin figure boots Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes My lyrics explicit Got bitches bringin they own condoms on the first visit [Notorious B.I.G.] If Biggie bring big bowls of beef backin bitch niggaz down, burners bring bundles of belief Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated Went from 10 K, to 24 K and motherfuckers hate it J.M. sedated, quarantined (uhh) BIG for President, buckin shots past the spleen 9 millimeter dream, Mac 11 nightmares Electric chairs, which MC's do you fear? Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A., nuff said Niggaz disrespect just are dead... |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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5:22 |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Check it out, uhh Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit? What are you a idiot? Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's Got mad guns up in the cabin Cause Cease ain't the one for the dibbin and dabbin shit I make it happen, you got your ass caught All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya I blow up spots like little sisters G'wan grit ya teeth, g'wan bite ya nails to the cuticles Like Murray, my killings, be the most beautiful Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers Niggaz grab your gats, bitches take a glance at the little one, pullin over in the Land Rover Playin Big Willie style with a chaffeur, yaknahmean? Stack the green, read all between the lines A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find Chorus: repeat 2X Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G. (How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) I'm surrounded by criminals Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals Smokin skunk and mad Phillies Beatin down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses If robbery's a class, bet I pass it Shit get drastic, I'm buryin ya bastards Big Poppa never softenin Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin Leave the fucker coughin up blood, and his pockets like rabbit ears Covered the wife, kleenex for the kid's tears Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches She whippin my ride, countin my one' |
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from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995)
Ladies and Gentlemen you are now listening of the sounds of The Notorious B.I.G. and the Junior M.A.F.I.A. Jealous niggas recognise, freak bitches fantasise Aah aah Chorus: Lil Caesar Uh, one two y'all, you know I rocked 'cha Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. One two y'all, you know I rocked 'cha Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. One two y'all, you know I rocked 'cha Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. One two y'all, uhh, uhh, uhh uhh (Check it out!) Verse 1: Lil Caesar Easy livin, bitches givin pussy like it's free My GS3 gleams perfectly Lil Cae's get flour like the stems Land's and Lexus' flexed with the M-A-F-I-A Blunts make my day Friday to Friday stay-be baby plus stylus, sippin on Berry's iris My windfall- be rich by sixteen Swimmin in CREAM, fuck a dollar and a dream Saw her knockin all ho's, dancin a machine, uhh True bawler, bitch case might call her A little shorty but I like my bitches taller Nastiest, the flashiest, you got bust past your shit while Big fuck your bitch Uhh uhh, while your nigga take flicks Uhh yeah Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique Chorus: Cheek Del Vec One two y'all, you know I rock ya Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. *repeat x2* One two y'all, uhh uhh uhh Verse 2: Cheek Del Vec I admit back in the days I did stupid shit Now I changed, I'm in to bigger and better things like rockin Cuban change, bitch copped the range Del Vec was set with the Lex and diamond rings Pop Moet with my bitch when it rain Drink away the pain, got mad scars on my brain A little nigga rolled for dough Copped ki's across seas and sent a memo from a Cuban kid named Sallio selled mad pulito Coppin 'bout four bricks then I called Nino Meet me at the airport, feds is on the stalk Almost got caught cos the dumb bitch talked How much you makin? What we're doin, wouldn't live that How much Moveet cost and where my cash stash at? But the feds still couldn't get nuttin JM I'm still stuntin and frontin Chorus: Jamal One two y'all, you know we rock ya Little Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A. *repeat x2* One two y'all, you know we rock ya, rock ya Little Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A. Verse 3: Jamal Mally G a villian, keep niggas feelin my trigger finger enhancin peelin ya dome piece with the chrome piece fat I'll fuck around, black, catch a Mac to ya back Lethal weapon with the eighteen leather Schemin, bustin on whoever I can ejecta Window, think slow sing low Fuckin with Row Dog Mall you ain't know, aah Remember this funkabist lyricist Blow the premises out the frame wit this killer seen with the guillotine shotty with Junior M.A.F.I.A. rockin ya fuckin spot Cockin the Glock, fifty bust, hit the dust This spit shit murderous Huh, now do you think that you can fade Jamal, I fade dem all and if I have to kill em all, I sure Chorus: Notorious B.I.G. One two y'all, you know I rocked 'cha Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A. *repeat x2* One two y'all, uhh uhh uhh Verse 4: Biggie I got that rhythm line like Sprite got lemon lime Dina Carradine, keep a hand in all the time My rhymes so much experien when I'm smeer-ien to kissin my lawyer at my hearin-en This day and age my rap is like the plague I married this shit, y'all niggas still engaged Turn blowouts to 360 waves How this 12 gauge feel sittin on ya tongue, on ya lips 'n' dippin with money L in the green beamer sip a zeamers on our way to see Katrina She said she need a freak like me like Adina Fucked her by mistake she had a twin named Regina I seen her, lights excite all the freaks Squirtin on curtains, lips, tits and sheets Go beat, meet death, ya dead, ya die Don't fuck with B-I, that's that! |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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4:40 |
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| from Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Conspiracy (1995) | |||||
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