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************************************************** |
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Fuck Y’all Niggas* the same song appears on the outsidaz "night life" ep |
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Intro |
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Yeah, rah digga once again, about to set it on niggas |
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Representing for all my bitches across the globe |
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Ladies we gon' set it one time, c'mon... |
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Chorus 1 (rah digga) |
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Say fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) |
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Everyone of y'all niggas (everyone of y'all niggas) |
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Don't trust y'all niggas (don't trust y'all niggas) |
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Fuck all y'all niggas (fuck all y'all niggas) |
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Verse 1 (rah digga) |
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All my bitches that had it up to here |
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We about to make changes coming in the new year |
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Say fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) |
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Don't trust y'all niggas (don't trust y'all niggas) |
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Stayin' up in the game give all these lazy fuckers |
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Trife ass strife with all them wack baby mothers |
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Fuck y'all niggas (fuck y'all niggas) |
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Everyone of y'all niggas (everyone of y'all niggas) |
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Let's take their bail money, make it hair and nail money |
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Chanel money, nike and adidas shell money |
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Bitches 'bout to shut down your whole line of gang |
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Gasp! thinking you gon' put some shit in money |
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It goes with other women shoe kinda fitting |
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Suck a nigga's friend, tell his man like he hit it |
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Lying on your dick, blow your spot, oh well |
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Bunch of bum ass niggas can't even cop hotels |
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Chorus 1 |
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Chorus 2 (young zee) |
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Fuck y'all bitches (fuck y'all bitches) |
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Fuck all y'all bitches (fuck all y'all bitches) |
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I don't trust y'all bitches (don't trust y'all bitches) |
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So fuck y'all bitches (fuck y'all bitches) |
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Verse 2 (young zee) |
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On my room ceiling, i got mad mirrors built in |
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So when i fuck you you're gon' feel like you're at the hilton |
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Fake dime hoes, you give 'em alizé |
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You can smell their toungues from a hundred miles away |
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Y'all lame gucci bitches (fake gucci bitches) |
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Stink coochi bitches (stink coochi bitches) |
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My niggas pop girls up in back of zee's truck |
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But we ain't going nowhere till after we fuck |
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Cause ??? we might not touch, how that sounding? |
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I don't give a fuck if a bitch come in growling |
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Tell your girls 'fuck everyone of us' |
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Y'all hoes can eat till your motheruckin' stomach bust |
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Drop your drawers, come slop my balls |
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You'll get a trip going straight to the mall and i... |
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Let your pretty ass run loose |
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And go distract the cops while your ass go 'boost!' |
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Chorus 1 |
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Chorus 2 |
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Chorus 1 |
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Chorus 2 |
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************************************************** |
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The Nigga In Me[Intro] |
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Y'all must be out y'all muthafuckin' minds |
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It's the nigga in me (x4) |
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You must've bumped yo muthafuckin' head |
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It's the nigga in me (x4) |
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They gon' read it and weep |
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They wanna wake a sleepin' giant that ain't even asleep |
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Playin' w/ my 70s, and my PS3 |
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I kept hearin' my name, I said let me see |
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"The bitch might be a nigga, for reala, she Rah Digga" |
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[Verse 1] |
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What the fuck man? |
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This guy, you barely caught a meal short of fish fry |
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Think I'm lettin' this fly, Fat Trel can kiss my |
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Global rap ass, he barely out of D.C |
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Tried to look him up, he ain't even got a wiki |
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On his records gettin' cheeky, tryna throw some shee shee |
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I'm right at the door, like when a dog's gotta pee pee |
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Some say it's beneath me, I should be the bigger artist |
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But this what happens when you get a nigga get started |
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The veterans, I love the referange |
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I love to talk slick, I love to reprimand |
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Dudes sayin' my name, I come like candy man |
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Made Nightmare on E Street, more like Candy land |
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Have them rhymes you be spittin', sound like Rhythm and Blues |
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Mel Gibson, what he did to them Jews |
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This Waka Flocka mixed with Choppa, done forgot what Rah Digga could do |
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Such a lady and I'm still more nigga than you |
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"You remind me of Rah Digga |
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A bitch rappin' like a nigga |
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Or was it a nigga rappin' like a bitch?!" |
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[Verse 2] |
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Y'all invoked that spirit, and them raw ass lyrics |
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From the only female too raw to compare it |
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To most of these rap dudes that claim they so street |
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I don't think I'm that rough, I think niggas too sweet |
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Soccer mom harder than y'all, man that's pitiful |
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Now I understand why rap is so ridiculed |
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Went up on twitter, and I found these jokers |
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Sits em on my next chapter, sit em down like Oprah |
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I'm like Yo Gabba Gabba, this no laughin' matter |
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This grown woman swagger, to you monkey rap bastards |
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Keep it in your own bracket, don't get too erratic |
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This Hunger Games shit, I use you for practice |
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Fuck is you creatin', son, a whole generation |
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Of some, hey horton, skateboardin', worshippin' satan asses |
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Bingin' on drugs, somebody get me the gloves |
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I don't think they need deals man, I think they need hugs |
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And I was trying to support this young black man |
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It's too bad you probably lost your only black fan |
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From now on, keep anointing ointment and ??? |
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Take it any further, and you might catch a backhand |
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[Outro] |
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BITCH |
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See, you don't have to like me |
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You don't gotta listen to my shit |
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But you will respect me |
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Bitch! |
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************************************************** |
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Imperial[Chorus: Rah Digga] |
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Flipmode the Imperial |
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You know you love it when you hear us on the radio |
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Go cop the joint and play the shit up in your stereo |
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Or in the streets up in your Jeeps or in the disco |
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And if you want the fly shit, my nigga, here we go |
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You know it's Digga lookin pretty in the video |
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With Bus-a-Bus up in the cut but you don't hear me though |
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Just when you think we done we hit y'all we got plenty mo' |
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Blow! |
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[Verse 1: Rah Digga] |
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It be's the little mama, lip gloss and eyeliner |
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The only shit poppin like White Castle or the diner |
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Rah Digga make the joints that the DJs blast |
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Ghetto diva in the Source with the 3 page ad |
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Watch as the hood rat messiah climb swiftly |
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Labels scarred to death to let their artist bomb with me |
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Cause you can send your thuggest MC and watch me son 'em |
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The ruggedest bitch, don't even rhyme about gunnin |
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Got joints circulating like them old karate flicks |
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Buncha Rah Digga shirts on some big body chicks |
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Throw my shit in your hoopty or your luxury trucks |
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And make the quickest turn around like 'dro for 20 bucks |
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And I'll still be the greatest if this rap shit fail me |
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Back to jackin bootleg flicks from out the deli |
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Livin off the interest |
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Sippin on Tequila with my logo on the side of fuckin 18 wheelers |
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Chorus |
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[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes] |
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Ay yo yo yo |
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Raze and dazzle niggas like ya'll |
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Spray niggas like you and dismantle niggas like y'all |
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I got the thing that'll majorly handle niggas like y'all |
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Fight y'all, bust a semi and cancel niggas like y'all |
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I know some joke niggas who love to hassle niggas like y'all |
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Talk, and fix and simply dance on niggas like y'all |
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Trample niggas like y'all |
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Make examples outta niggas like y'all |
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Grit their teeth and cock the hammer up inside the dance hall |
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Thugs, here's another sample for niggas like ya'll |
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Or for the ones who pass and light a roman candle for niggas like y'all |
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Fight for niggas like y'all |
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Grad the mic from motherfuckers like y'all |
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Blow the spot in the night for all my niggas like y'all |
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My get high niggas, I blaze for niggas like y'all |
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Stink the spot up with 'dro now spray the fuckin Lysol |
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You know we be the ultimate |
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We fuckin with some other shit |
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And when we hit y'all |
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Yes, we sit and watch ya'll niggas ride the dick |
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Chorus |
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(Busta Rhymes) |
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A'yo, clap and slap up a nigga for talkin lotsa wack shit |
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While I roll around with the Harriet Thugman of this rap shit |
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(Rah Digga) |
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Black chick, with intellect, who wanna match wits? |
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Write my own rhymes so can't no nigga tell me jack shit |
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(Busta Rhymes) |
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Master shit, Flipmode exclusive across the map and shit |
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Presenting the first lady of the squad so give me dap and shit |
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(Rah Digga) |
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Sayin' peace when you see me, play the role like Ally Sheedy |
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And I ain't gon' join ya cipher if the weed's too seedy |
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(Busta Rhymes) |
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Yo, make sure you see what we doing now, put on your binoculars |
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Then I gas ya like a paid latino down at Banco Popular |
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(Rah Digga) |
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Rah Digga underground and gon' always blow the spot for ya |
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Longest runnin shit since the Phantom of the Opera |
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(Busta Rhymes) |
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Bus-a-Bus, going down as one of the greatest spoken philosophers |
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Holding a 12-shot semi with a little red dot for ya |
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(Rah Digga) |
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First and only female unmatched by anyone |
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Rip it from old school to the next millennium |
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Chorus |
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************************************************** |
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Tight[Intro: Rah Digga] |
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Yeah, Rah Digga, Flipmode, Outsidaz |
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Shit tight, down to the coochie |
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Yeah, check it |
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[Verse 1] |
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And I say what's tight |
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Cause a sister write rhymes all day and all night |
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Dwelling South of the Hudson, New Jerusalem |
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In seclusion, using fake pseudonyms |
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Mind travels like a skitzo on two tabs |
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With doo rags hangin from my pockets |
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[Me] Me, the rap bitch that goes back to paediatrics |
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(Early lessons) rappers like you were straight vixen |
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So recognize, I make a nigga eyes come alive |
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Off of five two fives, disguise the camouflage |
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I shoot a virus out of my spirals with mad priors |
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For takin' mad niggas titles! |
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Wetter than a reservoir; lurking in the bushes |
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Striking blows like Chesimard code-name Hasana |
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Warmer than a bomber, hotter than the region of Ghana |
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Get loot like that Trump bitch, Ivana |
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[Hook] |
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Now, who be writin rhymes all night |
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Rah Digga in tha house and plans is tight |
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Tight, peace to the ones that don't bite |
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Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight |
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[Verse 2: Rah Digga] |
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A black queen, ya best believe my black jeans won't say Paco |
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I swing to the Vill' for some waffles and some beef falafel |
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Rap very tight liquor got me different |
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Dirtier than an overseas shipment of ki's |
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I write these tight buttas, creme de la guttas |
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Call me Sheik Digga |
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Plotting over loops like the eight figures |
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Baby I'm hard, represent the feminist God |
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What that gets blunted - watch rhymers runneth, over |
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See me in the camel Range Rover |
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Chop, and I won't stop for Jake |
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And keep heat by the waist for those that playa hate |
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Now show you the way to blow, better than I tell you |
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Word to my beeper and my cellu-lar [What?] Polo curls |
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Diggin all the rapper's shit like they go-go girls |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 3] |
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Who's the tightest |
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I rock with laryngitis |
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Gold's good for Midas, but I want the highest |
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So don't try me cause I be the bitch, I swear |
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I'll leave you twisted like a thug with blonde hair |
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Yeah, I blow up the spot like Dennis Scott |
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Go forward, your chance of defeatin me is morbid |
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Cause I get you open like the comin of the Pope |
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When I group shit tighter than a 3 piece suit |
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Peace, peace, peace to niggas I rhyme wit |
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My Outsidaz correspondents be more fluid than embalmin' |
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We pros, I decompose any rapper to the bone |
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Down to they X and Y chromosome |
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So see my name tagged in bold or italics |
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Bow, bitch, cause I'll be the only one salvaged |
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Number one imported like Beck's |
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Tighter than three or more heads in a CRX |
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[Hook] |
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[Outro] |
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Tight, tight, aight |
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And the plans is tight |
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Tight, tight, tight |
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Tight, tight, aight |
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And the plans is tight |
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Tight |
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[Busta] |
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One, two, three, bo |
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************************************************** |
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Party & Bullshit 2003[Intro: Rah Digga] + (Just Blaze) |
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(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
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(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
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Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
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(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
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(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
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Shake it around shake it |
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(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
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[Verse 1: Rah Digga] |
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We 'gon take this through the roof |
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See me on the move checkin cats like who's who |
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Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang |
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Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names |
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Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks |
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See me cruisin until that my six is wipped |
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And we off to the races (Say what?!) |
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Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces |
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Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan |
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Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand |
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Mami fly, watch your man |
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Me takin loses I be damn |
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What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) |
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And we stay in the flossin game |
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See me on the front line like G.I. Jane |
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Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin |
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[Chorus] |
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Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
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And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
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Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
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Front to back come on everybody |
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We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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[Verse 2: Rah Digga] |
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I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
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I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
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Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank |
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Love is love ma leave it at that |
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You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu |
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Keepin up with me how souped is you?! |
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Boy state your purpose get on down |
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Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) |
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Pullin up to my bumper baby |
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Body language somethin crazy |
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Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what |
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Only been here a minute cats startin it up |
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Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
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Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
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Come one come all we 'gon have a ball |
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Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) |
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[Chorus: Rah Digga] |
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Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
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And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
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Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
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Front to back come on everybody |
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We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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[Bridge: Rah Digga] + (Just Blaze) |
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Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
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Shake it around shake it |
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(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
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[Verse 3: Rah Digga] |
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It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader |
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Come on drop it like a hot potato |
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Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) |
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Fellas in the club lookin righteous |
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With a tight chest I think I might just |
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Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one |
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Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun |
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Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac |
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In the system watch mami straight throw it back |
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Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down |
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Digga Digga is crazy right now |
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[Chorus: Rah Digga] |
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Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
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And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
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Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
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Front to back come on everybody |
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We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
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[Outro: Just Blaze] + (Rah Digga) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
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In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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************************************************** |
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Break FoolYeah |
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Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha |
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Rah Digga, Dirty Harriet, Yall |
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Ah Shit |
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Bricks |
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[Verse 1] |
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See me on the block with the chromed out drop |
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Lambskin head to toe bustin out my halter top |
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'Tight' rippin through tha hood |
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Blow up the whole spot |
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With tha system |
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TV |
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All Mine |
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EASY!! |
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Working the scene on the quest for lime green |
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Steady puffin on brown just for the time being |
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Battle raps on cock I get all up in your anus (yea!) |
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Trying to get a record deal, battling somebody famous |
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Pounds to my girls as we slide up in the dance bar |
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Niggas in my grill like they really got a chance |
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Chicken heads trying to front like they not Digga fans |
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Say fuck yall!! |
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Groupies |
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Do me |
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TRULY |
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Shittin on MC's, what I do for a living |
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Tight takin over spots like my name was Robin Givens |
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Anybody got a beat, then they better keep it hittin |
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Retailers put your fit in for the hottest chick spittin |
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[Hook] |
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This for my niggas and bitches making moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it up (Flood it up) |
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Whip it up (Whip it up) |
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Smoke it up (Smoke it up) |
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Trick it up (Trick it up) |
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[Verse 2] |
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VIP area |
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Certain heads get in |
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Cats without wristbands steady trying to slip in |
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Weed on delivery, everybody chip in |
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Dump it, roll it, spark it, smoke it |
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Ladies where you at say 'Do you queen!' |
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Got a crib, got a whip, high heels, and tight jeans |
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My straight thug bitches rock Tims and tattoos |
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After one or two drinks be ready to act fool! |
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Now, this for my real live underground cats |
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Who be checkin for the rhymes |
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Not checkin for the track |
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Take away all the hype and a nigga straight wack |
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Say fuck that! |
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Fuck that! |
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Fuck that! |
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Fuck that! |
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My squad hold it down passin bars, passin mics |
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Make emcees stay at home with water and flashlights |
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Ya'll motherfuckers crazy tell him 'Get the dick' |
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Trying to see my clique, ain't even getting past the chick |
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[Hook] |
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This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it up (Flood it up) |
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Whip it up (Whip it up) |
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Smoke it up (Smoke it up) |
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Trick it up (Trick it up) |
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[Verse 3] |
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For those who want to whip it |
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For those who want to flood it |
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For those who want to buy it |
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For those who want to dub it |
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For those who want the sexy |
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For those who want the rugged |
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Say Digga |
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DIGGA |
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Hardcore |
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Love it! |
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Comin up fast while you're fallin even faster |
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A blitz on a Jack handling my money matters |
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For those who want to smoke it |
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For those who want to trick it |
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For those who want to hate me |
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Niggas know where they can stick it |
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[Hook 2x] |
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This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
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This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
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In the day you play it cool, by night you break fools |
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Say flood it up (Flood it up) |
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Whip it up (Whip it up) |
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Smoke it up (Smoke it up) |
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Trick it up (Trick it up) |
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************************************************** |
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Do the Ladies Run This[Hook] |
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[Rah Digga] |
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Do the ladies run this motherfucker? |
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(Hell yeah!) |
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Do the ladies run this motherfucker? |
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(Hell yeah!) |
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Put it down for the bitches all across the map |
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All the real live bitches all across the map |
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Go ahead, go ahead, go ahead, go ahead |
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[Verse 1: Sonja Blade] |
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Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo |
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I'm on the roll like butter |
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Flow gutter, fuck what a bitch going through |
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Do or die is what you gon' do |
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I warn you it's gonna get you and your guys killed |
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With my skills stay on your toes like high heels |
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And handle bars like bikes 'bout to blow like innertubes |
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See me in the tube in the views to interludes |
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Never see me in the nude, Blade gon' bend the rules |
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Lock the street coming through with more rocks than Pete |
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I'm into jewels I will not repeat |
|
Y'all obsolete, Sonya Blade y'all |
|
It's murder when they drop the beat |
|
I spit it once |
|
I'm hungry spit at lunch |
|
One take, I hate boxes so I don't punch |
|
I got a hunch, y'all figure |
|
Y'all gon stop my figgas |
|
Get on some rah-rah with Eve and Rah Digga |
|
But these my niggas so please my niggas |
|
Stop the Blade from where you don't know nann nigga |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Verse 2: Eve] |
|
Yo, yo now why y'all wanna make me get raw |
|
This bitch gon split ya, get tha picture |
|
Call yourselves emcees, titles don't even fit ya |
|
How they gonna stop us Digga? |
|
Try-na shine, the rest of them bitches |
|
Is past tense and out of time |
|
Cause my time line consists of many dreams shattered |
|
Trying to run up with two ryders deep as if it mattered |
|
When real bitches get to rockin', heads knockin' |
|
All dem chickens in their coupe gon do is get to squawkin' |
|
All the hating do is feed my temper, let me live |
|
Ice grillin' eyein' my clothes, I'm eyein' the crib |
|
E-V-E spell it out when you speak about her |
|
The only one out the bunch to hate |
|
The rest gon crowd around her |
|
Majority rules, it's our time, back the fuck up |
|
Cause the shit you sayin' out your mouth |
|
Make me crack the fuck up |
|
Laugh hard cause we pass y'all so dash broad |
|
Lay my shit by myself in the booth |
|
While y'all need flash cards |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Verse 3: Rah Digga] |
|
Yeah, check it out now Like that y'all |
|
Watch me sink three points |
|
Smash your whole LP with just my lead joint |
|
It's the rhyme super bitch gon' stay forever wildin' |
|
Smooth with the pen, Shakespeare, Edgar Allen |
|
Hot chick, catastrophic, blast the hot shit |
|
Your whole verse whack and bare no facts or logic |
|
Smash your clique in |
|
Y'all niggas only heard tidbits |
|
I put that on Gabana every rhyme I done spitted |
|
One-two, one-two |
|
Your whole crew I dismantle |
|
Rock fly gear and stay clear of sex scandals |
|
With drogues to spark wait for shows to start |
|
My put my niggas down if they know their parts |
|
Caramel give 'em hell from Bricks to Anadel |
|
Rappers try-na compete get ate like Samuel |
|
By a sister who twist a few L's rip it dually |
|
The song say It Ain't My Fault like Mystikal |
|
|
|
[Hook 2x] |
|
************************************************** |
|
Bitch Gonna Get Ya[Afro Samurai Resurrection sample] |
|
He is not even worthy to die, by your hands |
|
And wicked hands, ahhh |
|
But with him, will not bring him peace |
|
My professor |
|
*screams* |
|
Damn! |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
And it ain't gon' be pretty, now let me paint the picture |
|
So we can do it hit style, by whipping out the slammers |
|
Or we can go medieval, with spear, shanks and hammers |
|
Now anyway you want it, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
You playing Daredevil, I'mma be that bitch Elektra |
|
Now you can't even measure, you such a pretty gal |
|
A dropkick from me feeling like a fifty cal' |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, this really could get dirty |
|
Box cutter in heels, seals thirty thirties |
|
You wanna call my bluff, ya'll nowhere near tough |
|
My shank turn furry Kangols to some earmuffs |
|
Make 'em all scatter like roaches |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, now who is that approaching |
|
Somebody trynna see me, these jokers miss the memo |
|
They better about face, 'fore they going out the window |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
I'm jumping in your whip like that crazy ass Hitcher |
|
Sliced ear to ear like F.U. haters |
|
Except you ain't getting saved by no Caped Crusaders |
|
Saying to yourself, yeah that bitch crazy |
|
Think Green River Killer mixed in with John Gacy |
|
Your hits don't phase me, they make me laugh |
|
Now watch me go smack a bitch with my period pad |
|
I said a bitch is gonna get ya, but ya'll already knew that |
|
I catch another body every time I write a new rap |
|
How many of ya'll can do that, you know it's only one of me |
|
All of ya'll for cop shifty, ya'll just some wannabes |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, you know a bitch coming |
|
It's not T-Pain, when you hear that thing humming |
|
Fully automatic, coming right out the spinner |
|
Call it lead lipo, make that ass look thinner |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, like Wendy with the gossip, or even Miss Info |
|
With all her little topics, little blogging |
|
Yeah, ya'll all know, trynna match O stacking all that Harpo dough |
|
That chick with McCain, since Hilary out the picture, how can I put it bluntly |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, Digga Digga |
|
Say peace when you see her, that ready to beat her, shit gets uglier |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, a bitch is gonna get ya |
|
A bitch is gonna get ya, bitch I'm gon' get ya |
|
Bitch I'm gon' get ya... |
|
************************************************** |
|
Girl Samurai Lullaby[Chorus: Dionna Nichelle] |
|
Silly little girl, in a men's world, wish I could fly |
|
Dilly lilly pearl, caught up in a twirl, of a butterfly |
|
Ladadadadi, ladadadada, wish I could fly |
|
Silly little girl, caught up in this world, of lullaby |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
See when the, mics go on, the lights go on |
|
It's like Muhammad Ali, and Tyson sparring |
|
I take a, stab at you, a jab at you |
|
I do 'em, Carrey style, I make 'em laught at you |
|
Try me, ain't nothing worse than a little defeat |
|
From trying to weak a sleeping giant that ain't even asleep |
|
I'm not your ordinary shorty, I be bobbing and weaving |
|
Don't even give me no excuses, just to knock a few teeth in |
|
Bust a shot like it's semen, you do not want to see it |
|
Have you in predicaments, you do not wanna be in |
|
The last man to try, the last man to die |
|
Wiggle my toes, then turn to the last samurai |
|
Move, who not to scare to die, we runnin' wit our spears |
|
To the sky, screaming Bis Mi Allah |
|
So please be advised, cuz she's gonna light up the trails |
|
Better listen to them old wise tales |
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Without warning, shit could get real appaling |
|
And invalid, don't even know what to call it |
|
S.I.O., or you could call me bad business |
|
Talking eyes, while your boys in the hood, down to menace |
|
The skull smasher, basher, chicken head mangler |
|
Then use you as a tool for my misplaced anger |
|
The dude ripper, cuz they don't even see me come out |
|
I blind side 'em, 'fore they can even get they guns out |
|
Now who next to try, who next to die |
|
What you call fighting for your life, I call exercise |
|
Huh, coming through, looking like Lucy Liu |
|
Whipping shanks out, running down the block, WHOODI-WHO |
|
Ooh, you acting all intusive, we rolling kinda deep |
|
Up in this piece, now don't be foolish |
|
Don't make a sister lose it, that would not be condusive |
|
But wouldn't be the first time people die, for something stupid, stupid |
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
|
|
[Outro: Rah Digga] |
|
Here we go, baby, it's Dirty Harriet |
|
Digga digga ya'll |
|
************************************************** |
|
The Last Word[Rah Digga] |
|
This is a story... |
|
But not really a story |
|
It's just some freestyle shit |
|
My name is Rah Digga, and this here is Tha Outsidaz |
|
My niggas, tell 'em |
|
|
|
[Az-Izz] |
|
Since I been on television, girls been beggin me to swell the kitten |
|
Black or white, when the lights go off, I can't tell the difference |
|
Thought you'd impress me, well you didn't |
|
I got mad freestyles and hella-written |
|
The hottest fella spittin' |
|
|
|
[Slang Ton] |
|
Never quitin', spittin more Outz than eleven innings |
|
Cheddar spendin, Slang Ton forever shittin |
|
You better listen |
|
|
|
[Young Zee] |
|
Yeah yeah, I tell a chicken "Zee hurtin' skeezers" |
|
Fuck you wit the strength of like thirty Herculeses |
|
I want the cash nigga, fuck them scabs |
|
Stab once or twice then the pussy up for grabs |
|
|
|
[?] |
|
I puff the hash in front of your mother's dad |
|
Cut a fag |
|
|
|
[Slang Ton] |
|
And put your brother ash in a duffle bag |
|
|
|
[Pacewon] |
|
Yeah, y'all fall in love wit that, Outsidaz comin |
|
Leave ya'll drunk like Olde English 800 |
|
Pacewon the fire-breathin Rah Rah dragon in the dungeon |
|
|
|
[Young Zee] |
|
American Werewolf from the Bricks, fuck London |
|
|
|
Chorus [Rah Digga] |
|
Set it off for my heads in Jerz |
|
Swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve |
|
On wit' the swerve, mad bags of herb |
|
My Outsida click gon' get the last word |
|
|
|
[Pacewon] |
|
Our attitude is like a bad sitcom, nothin' funny |
|
Slap you like you stole something from me |
|
Yo we got raps by the page like Bill Gates got money |
|
*Along w/Rah Digga* First week out we top twenty, grungy |
|
|
|
[Young Zee] |
|
Dummy Young Zee, come get your mouth injured |
|
Diss us, watch I pop wheelies without Ninjas |
|
|
|
[Axe] |
|
Bring ya bliggy wit ya for the Brick City niggas |
|
Shittin on ya like kitty litter |
|
|
|
[?] |
|
You could do fifty situps, and I don't give a fuck if he bigger |
|
I throw a right hook that could drop any nigga |
|
Ya'll rock jewels that's Truck like Chevy pickups, TWISTA |
|
|
|
[Pacewon] |
|
All I want is money and my dick sucked |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
|
|
[Az-Izz] |
|
Az-Izz got bad nerves, rank matters |
|
While you serve steak platters I'ma die ballin like Hank Gathers |
|
|
|
[Axe] |
|
Axe get the dough like cake batter |
|
Pockets stay fatter |
|
The way you rhyme makes me think that you the gay rapper |
|
|
|
[Pacewon] |
|
Face slapper like Roy Jones, I throw a bolo |
|
Break your team up like Chris Shwartz and Joe Niccolo |
|
|
|
[Slang Ton] |
|
Rippin a beige Volvo, bumpin a Slang promo |
|
We sign our autographs, Spell It Out like K-Solo |
|
Tha Outz straight to disk, too hot for tape or phono |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Takin photos wit the black and gray Polo's |
|
Ruinin niggas lives like they K-Ci or JoJo |
|
|
|
[?Nawshis?] |
|
Outsidaz takin a loss, that's a no-no |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
************************************************** |
|
Lessons of TodayRah-rah-rah Digga |
|
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
|
Check it out now uh |
|
Dirty Harriet! |
|
Dirty Harriet! |
|
Dirty Harriet! Yeah! |
|
Where's my sisters? |
|
Where's my sisters? |
|
This one's for the brothers |
|
The brothers, the brothers |
|
Said I be rappin' for da ladies |
|
What's up ladies? |
|
But this one's for da brothers |
|
The brothers, the brothers |
|
Yeah check it out now |
|
|
|
Now I'm the baby in the family |
|
And I got three siblings |
|
Three older brothers and we trying to make a living |
|
So we hustle and we bubble |
|
And we coming up fast |
|
Ain't gon' never be the same |
|
Since mom and pops past |
|
The oldest one, child prodigy no doubt |
|
Every since he was a kid used to ride a bitch out |
|
All grown up now |
|
Nice job, nice clout |
|
Nice wife, nice house, try-na take the right route |
|
Treat sis like a queen brother gave me everything |
|
Any time I got in trouble he could probably pull some strings |
|
Walk daddy's footsteps and career same speed |
|
Made the greatest big brother and a father to his own seed |
|
(Uh-oh) But something happened on the job, he started snappin' |
|
Problems with the wifee, winging out and started cappin' |
|
Tried to turn himself in just to make things right |
|
Ended up taking flight cause he's not the jail type |
|
|
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
|
|
Now I got a second brother me and this one was closer |
|
Made me a little tom boy like he was supposed to |
|
Tearing up the place blowing weed in my face |
|
Irresponsible to death parents stayed on his case |
|
Probably cause he wanted to be the baby in the family |
|
Drinking with his friends, macking up |
|
Mommy carried me, look half way crook getting crazy on the mic |
|
Wasn't really into rap but the shit sound tight |
|
He used to tell me all the time |
|
Don't wet none sis |
|
By this time next year we gon' be dumb rich |
|
That's when I heard the ill |
|
My physical got killed |
|
Just a couple of weeks after signing a record deal |
|
Now somebody gots to bust and have to get a little tough |
|
And on the block round the clock |
|
Niggas ain't seen nothing |
|
Yeah right |
|
Never seen a brother more determined or eager |
|
Moms and pops couldn't see it |
|
Now we not gonna see it either |
|
|
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
|
|
Now my last and final brother, kinda something out the norm |
|
Some say part depressed some say part deformed |
|
Record unclean since his early teens |
|
In and out the youth house |
|
Playing all the crime scenes |
|
Early hangin' with fiends smoking all types of things |
|
He used to chase a basketball now he chasing pipe dreams |
|
From the door, shit was wrong undetected too long |
|
Bugged out when he was little |
|
Now he big that was wrong |
|
Little too early had to kick him out the house |
|
He just wanted some attention that's what dad was all about |
|
He used to bust down the door |
|
Moms cry, pops fight |
|
Even family counseling couldn't make this shit right |
|
Word on the street every body wanna do him |
|
]From his so-called boys to all the chickens he was screwin' |
|
Anybody get the chance, who will probably unload? |
|
How much longer sis got before the last brother gone |
|
OH NO! |
|
|
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
The lesson of today |
|
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say |
|
Because... |
|
Rah Digga...remains raw |
|
(Follow the rules) |
|
(Ya hear me, huh?) |
|
Rah Digga, rah digga |
|
|
|
[Outro] |
|
Peace y'all this is the first lady of the Flipmode Squad |
|
Rah Digga (Uh-huh) |
|
I wanna take this time out to say thanks to everybody |
|
Who went out and copped my shit |
|
For those of y'all who's listening and didn't go cop your own copy |
|
I suggest you go handle your BI |
|
Now I'm about to take this time out to plug the next |
|
Flipmode Squad album (Okay) the Rulership album (Okay) |
|
I wanna plug the next Busta Ryhmes solo LP...Anarchy |
|
And I'm pluggin' the Outsidaz (Hey-dey-dey) |
|
Ya know what I mean? Bricks City all day (Night Life) |
|
Now for those of y'all who think I purposely make my voice deep |
|
Try-na sound like some extra hard core, whatever, whatever |
|
Fuck all y'all alright cause |
|
This is me, this is who I be |
|
This is my voice and you got no choice |
|
And on that note I just wanted to say |
|
Cheers to another thousand years |
|
Of shit poppin' dope emceein' and I write my own rhymes y'all |
|
Dirty Harriet! |
|
But before I forget don't touch that dial y'all |
|
Make sure y'all stay tune to check out |
|
These next couple of bonus tracks I left y'all with |
|
************************************************** |
|
Just For You[Prelude] |
|
|
|
All my niggas y'all, Flipmode y'all |
|
Flipmode y'all, hardcore y'all, raw shit y'all |
|
Hardcore y'all, Flipmode y'all |
|
For my bitches y'all, all my bitches y'all |
|
Flipmode y'all, Flipmode y'all |
|
Hardcore y'all, raw shit y'all |
|
Hardcore y'all, Flipmode y'all |
|
|
|
[Spliff Star] |
|
Never judge a nigga like the cover of a book |
|
Fuck around and get shot back of the foot |
|
Nigga fall, stumble and look, nervous and shook |
|
Dragged in the alley and book and beat down to a pulp |
|
|
|
[Roc Marciano] |
|
Shot up my copse, Dirty Harry |
|
You stickin me is like niggas fuckin the Virgin Mary |
|
|
|
[Busta Rhymes] |
|
Shit we carry, will have you found layin down somewhere damp and muddy |
|
Split your tummy, puncture your kidney and make you piss bloody |
|
So now I leave your body to rott |
|
Where bitches sell they pussy for rock |
|
Cook they coke in steamin water boil in a pot |
|
|
|
[Baby Sham] |
|
Do you know niggas like us that clutter they watch |
|
Invest in yo' block, like it or not, involvin your pops |
|
|
|
[Rampage] |
|
You messin wit a rhyme surgeon |
|
Trade the GS for the Excursion, heads is turning |
|
Flipmode we still mergin |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Now we splurgin in Suburbans |
|
Dirty Harriet rock the camouflage turbans |
|
Said one for the money and two for mic check |
|
And spit a million rhymin words in 240 seconds |
|
|
|
[Lord Have Mercy] |
|
Get three to get your bitch neck, and four to even the score |
|
Graveyard shift it's best that y'all believe in the law |
|
|
|
[Roc Marciano] |
|
Flipmode like Mary Lou Retton |
|
Suede ballie, shoe steppin do the best that I can can |
|
Like Pointer Sisters, who could join the wizard? |
|
|
|
[Busta Rhymes] |
|
Talkin outta place I pick the knife up and cut the tongue |
|
Right outta your mouth and fuck your life up |
|
|
|
[Prelude Background] |
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
This for my niggas, y'all come get wit us |
|
More raw hardcore shit just for you |
|
YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU |
|
This for my sistas, we know y'all miss us |
|
Flipmode got raw shit just for you |
|
YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU, you, YOU |
|
|
|
[Rampage] |
|
Before all the plaques and the source awards |
|
Y'all niggas wanna dick ride so jump aboard |
|
It's a first class ass whippin, Rampage, I ain't trippin |
|
Check all the magazine clippins |
|
|
|
[Spliff Star] |
|
Yo I pluck pigeons, get brains in Expeditions |
|
Cause friction, every chick I stick my dick in |
|
I'm not trustworthy like midnight I'm pickin |
|
Spliff keep it warm like wool caps to mittens |
|
|
|
[Lord Have Mercy] |
|
Watch for me in a new milli, kick up dust with my shoe shitty |
|
New Jack City, wicked ways move wit me |
|
Holla mine, any violent times crooks bear malice |
|
White collar crime, Columbine, weak clear classes |
|
|
|
[Roc Marciano] |
|
Burn a nigga into ashes, how I mashes ass like Cassius |
|
Finger jabs, I got it mastered, fantastic |
|
Writin half ass shit, splash kids |
|
Poke em with the bassonet in the neck, graphic |
|
|
|
[Baby Sham] |
|
Can't tell I'm from QB the way that I talk |
|
Speakin in tongue, with six blocks callin my dun |
|
Bogie collapsed lung, big and small gats we brung |
|
Bangin your drums with hot shit and more to come |
|
|
|
[Busta Rhymes] |
|
But then we manifest the truth |
|
The niggas like predictions from the Bible |
|
Betrayal for niggas is suicidal |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Kick swift shit niggas rock harder than Limp Bizkit |
|
Dirty Harriet floodin all through your district |
|
|
|
[Prelude Background] |
|
[Hook 2x] |
|
************************************************** |
|
Straight Spittin’, Pt. 2This is what I'm dealin', bout to make a killin' off illin off-a hydro |
|
Put it on a rapper like they workin out Tae Bo |
|
Here to make a statement, not on your game |
|
You're gon' catch it like the pavement |
|
Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin |
|
And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! |
|
|
|
My shit is tight, if not the damn tightest |
|
My stats stay bubblin' how Pepsi and Sprite is |
|
I make a bitch jealous to the point she wanna slice this |
|
I fuck a nigga head up like the ex-girl turned dyke bitch |
|
The nicest, on one like unicyclists |
|
With pussy running deeper than stab wounds from ice-picks |
|
Now where you bout to take it? Baby I done took it |
|
Some more Digga Digga... shit man, look in here |
|
Folks are spittin rhymes unruly |
|
MC's for real might catch a hock-ptooie |
|
Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin |
|
And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! |
|
|
|
I push the range on my Pop's Buick Regal |
|
Hang wit' cats who known for making drug money legal |
|
Dislike you, spit on purpose just to spite you |
|
Heard you like the news, your boys died on motorcycles |
|
I spit clean versions for under-aged rugrats |
|
I spit for Brick City, where all my real thugs at |
|
I spit shit cause I'm in a bad mood |
|
For when my life wasn't shit but bad weed and fast food |
|
I spit spit spit and make executive decisions |
|
I spit some shit for all the scrubs and the pigeons |
|
And best believe where I'm goin' you're a goner |
|
I spit more rhymes than silicone in California |
|
I spit spit spit for all them jokers at the pool hall |
|
Carrying my daughter on my back just to fool y'all |
|
I meditate, say a prayer with my sensei |
|
I spit on MTV all the way down to your mixtape |
|
Like that, I'm the illest with the mouthpiece |
|
Crazy like South Park and hotter than South Beach |
|
Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin' |
|
And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! |
|
|
|
I spit shit and leave you scarred like a face-lift |
|
I spit for the underground, Hot 97 be the Matrix |
|
One, two, hit 'em with the basics |
|
Who gon' stay hittin'? Who be straight spittin'? |
|
I take the mic and rock it like what |
|
I make you write, get wrecked tonight, what |
|
Cause you never heard a honey spit rhymes like |
|
Said you never heard a honey spit rhymes like |
|
In a million years, and a million beers |
|
Said you never heard a honey spit rhymes like |
|
Cause all that blasé blah ain't hittin' |
|
And so from this point on we straight spittin', yeah what! |
|
|
|
When you hear a bitch rhyme, raise your lighters |
|
Spittin' on behalf of Flipmode and Outsidaz |
|
************************************************** |
|
Harriet ThugmanRah Digga |
|
The Harriet Thugman of hip hop has returned baby |
|
C'mon! |
|
|
|
[Verse 1] |
|
I be that house nigga squatting in the lab |
|
Rhymes comin, rhymes goin like I was a dollar cab |
|
Fingerin the man tryin to tap into his spirit |
|
A misguided soul so ain't checkin for the lyrics |
|
Many different players, only one hold the ball |
|
Ghetto fabulous chick, go against the protocol |
|
With the grittiest lingo, still such a little sweetheart |
|
Book educated with a whole lotta street smarts |
|
Follow me now, as I build my fanbases |
|
Makin rappers worry like they got open cases |
|
Harriet Thugman, bout to see shit through |
|
Like a whole world of people wait for Episode Two |
|
I be the rap purist, the walking hip hop thesaurus |
|
The innovator, spawned from Libra and Taurus |
|
Do away cats with the same ol' whack |
|
Lead a nation up north where the real party at |
|
A place where we spray when our asses get older |
|
No shots in the throat, no gettin pulled over |
|
A place where graffiti ain't considered a crime |
|
And your favorirte underrated MC's is primetime |
|
A land good and fruitful, where lyrics free people |
|
Black presidents, and all the weed legal |
|
No rich or poor, we break bread and drink merry |
|
Smoke a little Mary for the real visionaries |
|
************************************************** |
|
What We Gonna Do[Rah Digga] |
|
Megahertz |
|
|
|
[Verse 1] |
|
Another day in the life, kickin' for all thug bunnies |
|
Paper chase them self, or say man blood money |
|
Schemin' ass honey tryin' to get my shine |
|
Such a lady of grace, with such a hood frame of mind |
|
Summertime's here, Daisy Dukes are in order |
|
Swingin' with my cousin a little thick, a little shorter |
|
Five in the whip, we like to flow thick |
|
CD's in a clip, let's take a road trip |
|
Sayin' what we gonna do now, dice some trees |
|
Take a ride in the Range through the block and skeez |
|
We conceited asses, wavin' to the masses |
|
Cats doin' wheelies on they bikes fly past us |
|
Headin' to the mall or maybe to Phil's |
|
Steady cruisin' down 5th, through one chat and the grill |
|
Stores closin', down goes the sun |
|
Everybody get ready, here comes the real fun |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
(Ah, ooh) |
|
Yeah y'all, you know what's goin' down |
|
Jumpin' in the whip and we rollin' around town |
|
Wildin' out see ya layin' all on the ground |
|
Mre heat and there's plenty to go around |
|
Party people come shake it over here, just bounce |
|
Got chu' throwin ya hands all in the air, just bounce |
|
Everybody go shake it over there, just bounce |
|
Blowin' the spot up like we don't care (Ah, ooh) |
|
|
|
[Verse 2] |
|
Now we done huffed about an ounce up |
|
R and Gina, my cousin flirtin' with the bouncer |
|
The second round's on me, D-I-G |
|
The third is your's, come time to mop the dance floor |
|
See, we ain't payin' so debt that due |
|
Cali clubs be the shit, since they close at two |
|
I'm a socializer, y'all know my steez |
|
Whether mountin' at Spagra or grimey at Speed |
|
Ya might see me solo or with a bunch of dimes |
|
Or ridin' shotgun when I'm jottin' punch lines |
|
Or maybe with the squad, Rah, and BK style |
|
First lady profile, no more chicks allowed |
|
Sayin' what we gonna do now, blow the set |
|
Take a ride down to Philly, check grand and Moet |
|
But back to the bricks, have drinks at my bar |
|
I'm the real ghetto superstar |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Verse 3] |
|
We bring the night to a close |
|
Downed a couple shots and we threw a couple bows |
|
What we gonna do now, take it down |
|
No, after-hours on the other side of town (HO!) |
|
Come on swing with me if ya able |
|
Corner reserved and they gotta pool table |
|
The music jumpin' better than the club |
|
Champagne in the house, every DJ show love |
|
But all good things must come to end |
|
Headed back to the whip, turn parking lot pimp |
|
Just when ya thought it couldn't get no thicker |
|
Shorty gotta hurl, says she can't hold liquor |
|
Food gettin' dropped off first, please |
|
Time to roll another L, hot cakes and Mickey D's |
|
Peace, peace y'all here's one for the road |
|
Hit me off on the jack for the next episode |
|
|
|
[Hook x2] |
|
************************************************** |
|
Curtains[Verse 1] |
|
Bust it, from the dick I'm dissin all yall punk crews |
|
Y'all wack and won't even think of punchlines I don't use |
|
And to the niggas whose LP's I kinda liked |
|
I'm fresher than that, and that new shit you tryin to write |
|
Like mita, mita, name not Rashita |
|
Battle on the streets so when I'm playin senorita |
|
Spend a few peso on some chili con queso |
|
Thinkin how I used to wax rappers back that eso |
|
Be in San Juan, on the carriage like I'm Cam'Ron |
|
Wit a nigga tryin to chew my tampon with my pants on |
|
I'm gettin money off the books like I'm Beatnuts |
|
Make em sign pre-nups, word to my C-cups |
|
Fuck with they heads like Kahlua, milk and vodka |
|
Then tell they punk ass to move on like Silkk the Shocker |
|
Word to my godfather, who bombs harder |
|
Be out to get the paper like Inga and Shawn Carter |
|
|
|
HOOK 2X: |
|
All you MC's better stand your ground |
|
Cuz when Digga come around it's curtains |
|
Curtains, curtains, curtains, curtains, curtains |
|
(curtains on all y'all, curtains on all y'all, curtains on all y'all |
|
Curtains on all y'all) |
|
When Digga come down |
|
|
|
[Verse 2] |
|
Some people say when I drink I don't act right |
|
Raisin my voice, I see some bitch and start a cat fight |
|
Or in my travels, grabbin slices from S'Barro's |
|
Eyein fake niggas like they intimate apparel |
|
20,000 seaters, heads givin me pounds |
|
Even biggin me for shit I did for Lyricist Lounge |
|
Like, "How can I be down?", hoes I don't trust ya |
|
Playin me close so I can hook you up with Busta |
|
Fuck an entourage, I'm the bitch that roll dolo |
|
More still than mo-mo's and a 4-4 on my polo |
|
With the toaster, make ya run like Sammy Sosa |
|
Could take about 50 MC's like Tony Tocca |
|
Why you take it there? Cuz I'm fruitier than kiwi |
|
And when I freestyle you ain't gon hear it on my CD |
|
Money management, cuz I'm grown up and older now |
|
Drinkin mad low and brow, tell em how it's goin down |
|
Bricks, Bricks, cuz I was born in the Bricks |
|
Bricks, Bricks, and shit is on in the Bricks |
|
Come at me twisted if ya think you got the heart to |
|
But you better be careful what you say like Sparkle |
|
Bricks, Bricks, you get jacked in the Bricks |
|
Bricks, Bricks, and I'm the mack in the Bricks |
|
Uh, I got niggas that'll run you over backwards |
|
And bitches that'll milk you, plus give you the package |
|
|
|
HOOK 4X |
|
************************************************** |
|
This Ain’t No Lil’ Kid Rap[Intro] |
|
Ev'rybody grown in here right?! Rated M for mature bitches |
|
I'm sayin don't get me wrong y'know, Digga love the kids but ummm....... |
|
This ain't no lil' kid rap right here, now I don't know |
|
I might have to make y'all rock a certain color wristband to bump this |
|
Yo you might even learn a new word before it's all over |
|
Try to keep up youngins! |
|
|
|
[Verse One] |
|
Yo! See! I don't study what the next folk have |
|
Take two totes and pass invoke my own craft |
|
Grown up swag whole other vocab |
|
Y'all one hit wonders blowin smoke up they ass |
|
See even after ya peak you'll never measure me |
|
Rah legendary status Rakim, Eric B |
|
Diggin in some lil' kid ass like Pleasure P |
|
Hip hop police might start come arrestin me (SEE) |
|
This that 401 cake up not Jacob |
|
Boy tie your shoelace up, get a shape up! |
|
You in the presence of, hip hop royalty |
|
Rah Anastasia, Memoirs of a Geisha |
|
Specialty turnin blood money into pay stubs |
|
Type of pen game most rappers be afraid of |
|
Some even call me the boom bap savior |
|
New pledges beware I might have to haze ya |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
SHIEEETTTTT!!! This that gettin off from work |
|
And you wanna bop your head not tryin to do the jerk (HOW IT WORK!) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) |
|
Could spend a whole lifetime fishin |
|
Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission |
|
|
|
[Verse Two] |
|
This like a case of, final destination |
|
Reincurring nightmare, Michael Freddy Jason |
|
Code of a Da Vinci, bitches like pinch me |
|
Drag 'em all to hell, twenty-twelve go against me (OW!!) |
|
I ain't even beat, just doin my numbers |
|
In and out the limelight kinda somethin like Jumper |
|
Bite front your line or two, a haiku |
|
Or the next rhyme I write might be about YOU! |
|
HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
(WHAT IT IS!) This ain't no abra cadabra, a chitter chatter |
|
Foot soldier risin quiet, not even a pitter patter |
|
(Be my guest) Nigga, gather your dad your peers or nails |
|
I be in mails chattin with actors, even a Steven Spel' |
|
I'm a rapper's rapper, make no hap hazard |
|
In a cypher, I'm Tariq, Mos Def, and Mr. Mathers (And Mr. Mathers!) |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
HUH! I ain't no lil' kid rapper |
|
UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
DANG!!! This that Pinky And The Brain |
|
I'm the SHHH Gucci Mane in the bricks I got stained |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) |
|
Could spend a whole lifetime fishin |
|
Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission |
|
|
|
[Bridge] |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (I mean, they keep callin me!) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (I been chillin) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Rappers sayin they are the best, but they ain't spittin (Bloggin me...) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (Textin me...) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Real lyricist eveytime my name is mentioned |
|
|
|
[Outro] |
|
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!!! |
|
************************************************** |
|
Angela Davis (Single)(Lyrics in 16 bars) |
|
|
|
Intro: |
|
|
|
Leader of the resistance |
|
And it's only for the thick skin |
|
Runnin' round in chick-lands circuit with my Bricks-man |
|
When it come to spittin', got that sixth sense |
|
|
|
And I don't think they know the difference |
|
And I'm getting at my wit's end |
|
And then that real rap kicked in |
|
And they wonder how it missed them |
|
|
|
Verse 1: |
|
|
|
I'm Angela Davis, I ain't shaking my buns |
|
I'm yelling power to the people and waving 'em guns |
|
I be pumping dat fist, I ain't running some shit |
|
It ain't too many o' you broads got the stomach for dis! |
|
|
|
Y'all worry 'bout your stylist, worry 'bout your talents |
|
Build up your valence, expandin' your palettes |
|
Better find you a balance else that homegoing won't be |
|
As turned up as Howard's |
|
|
|
Verse 2: |
|
|
|
Ha! Call me Angela Davis |
|
In my all black floating through the Matrix |
|
They like, “Digga, can you save us?” |
|
When did lyricism escape us? |
|
|
|
You one of the few that kept it raw through the ages |
|
You ‘bout the culture even more than the papers |
|
And you ain't have to do that fake shit |
|
I love my black features, I ain't tryna get no facelifts |
|
|
|
Verse 3: |
|
|
|
I'm Angela Davis, no perm |
|
Momma had that straightin’ comb on slow burn |
|
They ‘on't know about ME, but they gon' learn! |
|
They gon' learn!! |
|
|
|
How I had the infallible Lauryn Hill lighting roaches on the mic |
|
Told Kim we read' enough, we not doing ladies night |
|
Told Rage we success, we gon' be Nas and Jay |
|
And the duets with Bust’, still his best to this day |
|
|
|
Chorus: |
|
|
|
I'm Angela Davis, I ain't, y’all say |
|
Couple war scar flaws from my young day |
|
Album ain’t debut number one, two or three |
|
But I showed you how to be an emcee |
|
|
|
Call me Angela Davis, I'm steppin' with pride |
|
Y'all condone the coonin’, I ain't lettin' it ride |
|
Y'all so foo-foo, even the who's who |
|
I swear to God they ‘on't make 'em like they used to |
|
|
|
I'm Angela Davis! |
|
|
|
Outro: |
|
|
|
KRS One (Sample): |
|
I freed myself but I'm coming back to free my brothers and sisters |
|
That ain't for everybody |
|
You gotta be ordained |
|
I wouldn’t put that mission on nobody |
|
************************************************** |
|
You Got It(ft. Torae & Styles P) |
|
You got it, (soul) you got it |
|
You got, (soul) you got it |
|
You got, (soul) you got it |
|
You got, (soul) you got it, you got it. (soul) |
|
You know I got it, got it one of the .. artist |
|
I figure need it ..somebody retarded on it |
|
So I deliver on it he’s gonna spit the body on it |
|
My shit beyond it you should be warned about it, ‘bout it |
|
Is no limit when I .. is more shocking .. |
|
It ain’t my fault the shit I take in tenses |
|
Pinches and princess the b*tch flip shit |
|
You ain’t no what you face it |
|
Y’all niggas ain’t sick I’m losing my patience |
|
Y’all ... Kelly ..niggas it’s not .. I got soul like the plain ...now it’s .. |
|
|
|
Chorus: |
|
You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it |
|
You want it I got it, you want it I got it |
|
You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it |
|
You want it I got it, you want it I got it |
|
You know I got it got it you can’t .. need somebody .. one day .. |
|
I’m a master like .. stop it |
|
It’s in the name in fact may be where I derive it |
|
Don’t use it no ..get my deposit , don’t ask me where |
|
‘cause I ain’t wanna gossip |
|
Me not .. the project it’s logic only rap ..dirty area got me feelin like a psychic |
|
Rapping about black president .. about my thoughts my brain speech |
|
You don’t wanna try me just take the damn ..say I’m not introspective enough |
|
True .. ‘cause I don’t make .. I make them .. mother f*cker .. |
|
Straight .. everybody Mc the still not me |
|
|
|
Chorus: |
|
You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it |
|
You want it I got it, you want it I got it |
|
You got it, I’m inspired, you want it, you got it |
|
You want it I got it, you want it I got it |
|
You know I got it mike up with a lock up with the |
|
Any rapper f*ck it with the .. you’d better stop it |
|
Wait before start ..retarded you’re poppin in the air |
|
I’m not a good artist you just an .. rapper.. f*ck up nigga clap your back up |
|
Just to rap |
|
I pick my strapper ..the pants too tight this the fact .. another fact .. |
|
You know I get spit all the shit ... |
|
|
|
[Chorus:] |
|
I got soul, you know I got it |
|
You know I got it, got it |
|
I got soul, you know I got it |
|
I got soul ... |
|
************************************************** |
|
Clap Your Hands (Bonus Track)Yo Yo Yo Yo |
|
Everybody |
|
Everybody |
|
Everybody |
|
|
|
Now tell everybody how you came up with your name |
|
What was it like try'na get up in the game |
|
Dirty Harriet's the name saying anything goes |
|
Acting like you never seen a tomboy in dress clothes |
|
Like you run around splurging, deepen the excursion |
|
TV people pissed 'cause I spit the dirty version |
|
Now tell everybody what be going through your mind |
|
Up on the stage when you bout to bust a rhyme |
|
Seein' people on my left, seein' people on my right |
|
Every now and them you come across a fucked up mic |
|
Make sure they got water stay steady with the light |
|
And I rock it so tight, make the bitches start a fight |
|
Now tell everybody 'bout niggas in your camp |
|
How we be rolling, when we work and we lam |
|
Got Rock Sham Bus Ramp Spliff me six |
|
And another set of caps double that in the Bricks |
|
Some smoke, some drink, some battle just for kicks |
|
Some'll give your ass a Duffy just for try'na take flicks |
|
Now tell everybody what be going through your brains |
|
Celeb chick up in the rap game |
|
Smoke a rogie in a store getting tipsy on a plane |
|
Take a whole lot of money |
|
Fuck around and ride the train |
|
Say my voice too maley, can't understand me |
|
No album out superbitch won a Grammy |
|
|
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
All the ladies in the place clap your hands |
|
All the fellas in the house clap your hands |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
|
|
|
|
Now tell everybody bout niggas on your block |
|
In New Jerus where the crime don't stop |
|
See a bunch of little niggas wearing scuffed up Tim's |
|
If his stash been tapped it was probably Juanes Mins |
|
Some like to shoot dice fuck around lose friends |
|
Some'll blow your brains out get you for your rims |
|
Now tell everybody bout bitches 'round the way |
|
Who like to hustle |
|
Lose scams everyday |
|
Type of chicks hit first |
|
Even let they kids curse |
|
Get a check every month |
|
Day job as a nurse |
|
I'm bumping out the crib playing scratch card numbers |
|
So I'ma get slick |
|
Evict they own man running |
|
Now tell everybody how we dipping in the stash |
|
Or with the swerve don't be spending no cash |
|
Drinking all type of goodies |
|
Sending heads on a run |
|
Everytime I pass a L |
|
Here comes another one |
|
Now bitch got the munchies |
|
Making heads front me |
|
Dipping in the dro |
|
Niggas fuck around and jump me |
|
Now tell everybody how we keep it on lock |
|
Now where we headed when the block get hot |
|
Now we speeding on the Ave |
|
Puffing on lots of gandas |
|
Pumping Jay shit |
|
Somebody got Nastradamus |
|
Kicking one-liners |
|
Car full of rhymers |
|
Dipping down the block when the cops get behind us |
|
Now tell everybody where you heard it all first |
|
Type of shit going into Digga verse |
|
Say intellect punch lines |
|
Kill 'em all one time |
|
Voice still crazy |
|
Even when I kick my fun rhymes |
|
Digga supreme |
|
Clientele like ghost faces |
|
Niggas have to go rewrite in most cases |
|
|
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
All the ladies in the place clap your hands |
|
All the fellas in the house clap your hands |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Everybody (Everybody) |
|
Say "Come on, bounce, come on, bounce" (Everybo-dy) |
|
************************************************** |
|
What They Call Me"One two" "Rah Digga" |
|
"One two" "Rah Digga" |
|
"One two" "Rah Digga" |
|
"One two" "Rah Digga" |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
For starters, peace to all the martyrs, and all the pioneers |
|
Cheers! |
|
Here's to a new breed of broad, yeah we like it raw! |
|
Comin to the floor, I be next to rep like Al Gore |
|
(Look) Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane |
|
Nope, honey from the Bricks, ya'll familiar wit the name |
|
I be worse than any Alien, Predator or Relic |
|
Witch from the east nigga, tell em how to spell it |
|
|
|
[Hook] 4x |
|
The R-the A-the H-the D-the I-the G-the G-the A (Come again!) |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
I'm primetime, you a local on cable |
|
I battle you on yo' shit and then waste your label |
|
Hit you wit heat sweeter than vanilla candy |
|
Flip it type wicked like Cinderella family |
|
(For what) For tryin to step to a Rah situation |
|
Less rhymin years, less formal education |
|
Gettin less spins than a BBS |
|
Less hype in the streets and you writin even less |
|
(Now you ain't fresh) MC's goin crazy |
|
(Nah, you ain't a fresh) Ya'll could never out-blaze me |
|
Less knowhow, more ho now |
|
Stay up out of grown folks biz 'fore I show you what broke is |
|
Yappin all day bout who crew the best |
|
Take a few deep breaths, puff the buddha cess |
|
Continue to bless any track that come this way |
|
Nine nigga nine nigga, I'm that itchbe |
|
|
|
Chorus 4x |
|
|
|
"Niggas" "Do you think" [Rah Digga] |
|
"Flipmode" [Busta Rhymes] |
|
"Digga on the track" [Rah] |
|
"Words worth a million" [Jay-Z] |
|
"Represent" [Biggie] "Yo" [Prodigy] |
|
"Strike-strike hard" [Canibus] |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Peace to my peeps, from Jerz to Manhattan |
|
Bitches on the threeway chit-chattin in pig Latin |
|
Heads is vexed now, all the 'dro gone |
|
Waitin and debatin for some niggas to roll on |
|
(Come on) The kind of heads take the ghetto approach |
|
Hard foul the opposition or strangle the coach |
|
I be stashin marijuanna in my Dolce & Gabana |
|
Dead em like gamma, if they don't have no manners |
|
Call the dopest MC my little junior |
|
Playin the game and be a coach like Tuna |
|
Mad, what I say go, B-girl original |
|
Boy Wonder, Chocolate latte (Hooo!) |
|
What the chicks say, hoes might oppose |
|
But most chicks happy I can rock without takin off my clothes |
|
And all the niggas say "Damn, this bitch is tight |
|
Ain't heard a broad rip like that since MC Lyte" (Come on) |
|
|
|
Chorus 8x |
|
************************************************** |
|
Handle Your B.I.[Chorus] |
|
I got what you want |
|
I got what you need |
|
Rep chicks on the strip |
|
Rep thugs on the street |
|
I got what you want |
|
I got what you need |
|
Rep chicks on the strip |
|
Rep thugs on the street |
|
|
|
[Verse 1] |
|
Digga Digga |
|
First name Rashia |
|
Rock the mic crazy |
|
Wouldn't wanna be ya |
|
Had a nice wing since my early teens |
|
Now I'm grown rocking microphones |
|
Sin! Sin! |
|
Said I learned new ways |
|
Gotta thank God for my chance to blaze |
|
Next album gonna see a fat healthy raise |
|
And he make mistakes |
|
Say That's The Brakes (That's The Brakes) |
|
True |
|
Hit 'em with the (Wooo!) |
|
Fine young woman now |
|
Long time coming now (Coming now) |
|
Thank the fans for they love and affection |
|
Heard me with the Fugees |
|
Still ain't making a connection |
|
Fulfill my destiny wasn't nothing y'all could tell me |
|
Ripping down the stage with a baby in my belly |
|
Adding up to math |
|
Applying everything I learned |
|
While a dummy kept going on tour and get burned |
|
See |
|
|
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
I got what you want |
|
I got what you need |
|
Rep chicks on the strength |
|
Rep thugs on the street |
|
East Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
West Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
Dirty South y'all |
|
Handle B.I |
|
Up top y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
|
|
|
|
[Verse 2] |
|
Now make way for a sister little feisty foul mouth |
|
Say what's that all about (bout bout) |
|
It's about one two three four five for the rating |
|
A penny for the hating |
|
Y'all know my ways |
|
Staying up in the game of this MC craze |
|
Kind of wonder what if I'd of dropped back in the days |
|
Say |
|
Rhymes I toss it |
|
Taking no losses |
|
Let management tell you who your new boss is |
|
People stay repping up on the West Coast |
|
Word is bond to my flow |
|
Y'all got the best 'dro |
|
Ain't seen nothing like it |
|
Ain't bring nothing like it |
|
If my rhymes strike a nerve |
|
Ain't mean nothing by it |
|
Dirty Harriet! |
|
And I be stepping to the left |
|
You bust for Diablo |
|
I still bust for UCEF |
|
Try'na see me on the MC tip |
|
Now child please |
|
Vocab for years |
|
And freak enough stylees |
|
Swing! |
|
Rep the thing for my Hip-Hop brothers |
|
Take care of them before I take care of others |
|
Juice Crew, Rakim, Prince |
|
Big influence |
|
You saying I'm the dopest |
|
But I already knew this |
|
Say one check two check |
|
Everywhere check check |
|
Check for me |
|
We haven't ever even met yet |
|
Gotta thank God |
|
I said I gotta thank God I could look this fly and rock it this hard |
|
|
|
|
|
[Chorus] |
|
I got what you want |
|
I got what you need |
|
Rep chicks on the strength |
|
Rep thugs on the street |
|
East Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
West Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
Dirty South y'all |
|
Handle B.I |
|
Up top y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
I got what you want |
|
I got what you need |
|
Rep chicks on the strength |
|
Rep thugs on the street |
|
East Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
West Coast y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
Dirty South y'all |
|
Handle B.I |
|
Up top y'all |
|
Handle your B.I |
|
************************************************** |
|
What’s Up Wit’ ThatHa, once again |
|
First and only female representin, yeah |
|
Rah Digga comin through you know what I'm sayin |
|
Uhh, uhh, uhh, yeah like what, what |
|
|
|
Now I'ma tell it like it ain't never been told |
|
With the rhyme mechanism that boost me ten-fold |
|
Spend dough in pubs, sayin no to scrubs |
|
With the crisp deep voice I lace with overdubs |
|
Now wassup, if by some haphazard |
|
You see me in Rolling Stone or down the rapmaster |
|
Up in the slot where you used to rock |
|
Your shit suddenly drop and like Wall Street stop |
|
|
|
Now, the part that thrill me, what's up with that |
|
Cats that didn't wanna feel me, yo, what's up with that |
|
Ha ha ha ha that's fine, that's funny |
|
Now they ass catching bricks like the fuckin crash dummies |
|
|
|
I'm makin hits like the oldies, what's up wit that |
|
Cats be frontin like they know me, yo, what's up wit that |
|
You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin strangers |
|
My interest strictly record sales and tunnel bangers |
|
|
|
Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that |
|
The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that |
|
I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that |
|
And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that |
|
I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that |
|
And radio plays me, yo |
|
You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin strangers |
|
My interest strictly record sales and tunnel bangers |
|
|
|
Verse dentin, worse than armageddon |
|
Worse than them kids runnin around bomb settin |
|
Mind threatenin, like a couple hits of mescaline |
|
Comin up with documents to cover the embezzlin |
|
Educated, rhymes pre-meditated |
|
Over niggas heads while they out percolatin |
|
Spot datin, block money I could take in |
|
Drops on the box like I was ovulatin |
|
|
|
Now, for all the cats wildin, what's up wit that |
|
You best better throw your towel in, yo, what's up wit that |
|
Cuz the real rap bitch that step foot on the scene |
|
Will put a rapper on his ass like warm milk and Ovaltine |
|
Yeah, yeah, now what you done lately, what's up wit that |
|
And now you wanna hate me, yo what's up wit that |
|
Sweetest person, and I'm still the grimy queen |
|
Wit a half ounce of goodie stashed in my Tommy Jeans |
|
|
|
Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that |
|
The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that |
|
I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that |
|
And how I rep Jersey, what's up wit that |
|
I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that |
|
And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that |
|
Sweetest person, and I'm still the grimy queen |
|
Wit a half ounce of goodie stashed in my Tommy Jeans |
|
|
|
In '99 baby hold your stuff |
|
I be that seventh sign wit no more souls in the guff |
|
Focus your attention as I make my mark |
|
Cuz I get the party jumpin like your hoopty won't start |
|
Got a bad attitude and a worse disposition |
|
Corny niggas get the boot, for endangerin the mission |
|
Believe all you rap specimens, need to proofread my rap reference |
|
'Fore you're left hangin from your vest |
|
Definitely, gettin severance pay |
|
While my joint moves 20,000 units every day |
|
Official, ever since an itty bitty youngun |
|
Before the first kiss when I didn't put my tongue in |
|
|
|
Now, I'm kickin all type of lingo, what's up wit that |
|
I make the shit into a single, ha, what's up wit that |
|
You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin papi |
|
Go cop my shit, because you can't get a copy |
|
Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that |
|
The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that |
|
I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that |
|
And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that |
|
I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that |
|
And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that |
|
You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin papi |
|
Go cop my shit, because you can't get a copy |
|
Cuz that's how shit be, what's up wit that |
|
The Rah D I G, yo what's up wit that |
|
I'm writin rhymes lovely, what's up wit that |
|
And how I rep Jersey, yo what's up wit that |
|
I wreck shop crazy, what's up wit that |
|
And radio plays me, yo what's up wit that |
|
You gon say what's up and I'ma say nothin chico |
|
I hold shit down for all my rhyme writin people |
|
Cuz that's how shit be, the Rah D I G |
|
I'm writin rhymes lovely, and how I rep Jersey |
|
************************************************** |
|
Tight [Remix]Intro: |
|
Ah damn, Digga done gone and did a remix |
|
What you gonna do now partner? |
|
(laughs) |
|
|
|
(Monch) |
|
Yes it the selectable messages, hard |
|
Mammary glands, necklaces, breasts'es, large |
|
Camrys, Lands, Lexuses |
|
Executive suits, forget about where the exit is |
|
Consecutive beats, narrated without the negative |
|
There's no need for packin', cause we can make it, happen |
|
We're gone quick, tell a friend "ohhh shit" |
|
Intelligent rap fiend with relevant rhyme flow |
|
Benevolent, from beneath the sediment |
|
With no speech impediment |
|
Impeach the President? |
|
I don't know, I'm hesitant |
|
When I step through, you know I rep the medicine |
|
Perfect poetry, peddling word flows, you meddling |
|
In my business? That's when I got to jettison |
|
The nigga with the big balls |
|
Girls wanna maul me |
|
Drop jewels like you was jewellers with cerebral palsy |
|
My road dogs explode on, Flipmode flip men |
|
Spit in a nigga water like, Ms. Jane Pittman |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Now, who we be writing rhymes all night? |
|
(Monch) |
|
Pharoahe Moch in the house and my plans is tight! |
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Now, who we got next on the mic? |
|
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
A black queen |
|
You best believe I stack cream for the nine-niggy-nine |
|
Everytime Diggy rhyme |
|
Like a thousand motherfuckers going "yes yes y'all" |
|
Make em scramble like a stabbing up in the mess hall |
|
Tighter than pumps on fat ladies |
|
Flows like the liquid in the IVs stuck in crack babies |
|
Preproduction, stay booming in my tenant |
|
On your radio tighter than the sweats on Richard Simmons |
|
Rah-D-I, going for dolo like I'm Coko |
|
One the lo-lo, spending my show dough in Soho |
|
Tight, lyrical pro yo, verbal style linguist |
|
Like Q or the Genius, speak a little broken english |
|
Get Backstreet money, tax free money |
|
Clak-clak any fool try to jack me money |
|
Lick proper, ain't no other chick hotter |
|
Voice alone scare your ass to death like Stigmata |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Now, who be writing rhymes all night? |
|
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! |
|
Who we got next on the mic? |
|
(Lord Have Mercy) |
|
Lord Have in the house and my plans is tight! |
|
|
|
(Lord Have Mercy) |
|
King of my castle |
|
Shanghai, swinging my lasso |
|
In each hood |
|
And stay unforgiving, like Eastwood |
|
Quick shooter, long clip, Ruger |
|
Villain in trench coats |
|
Walk the evil that men spoke |
|
Creep on your kin-folk |
|
Invent flows that sweep the streets often |
|
Stone cold like Steve Austin indeed, also |
|
The all city, the raw, gritty |
|
Landlord banned from TV in large cities |
|
Nigga slay a squad |
|
Pray to God I'm just Rated R |
|
When I pickle hearts in labelled jars |
|
Spit fatal bars |
|
Tally-ho, tally-ho, I murder a cameo |
|
Rapid fire like a calico, scatter foes |
|
Trapped and dying, Federale home, battle zones |
|
Shined in alleys, chromed, East Coast to Cali homes |
|
Laying down 'fore them federals get me |
|
Got hits while you catch bricks like I'm Reginald Deny |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Now, who be writing rhymes all night? |
|
Rah Digga in the house and my plans is tight! |
|
Peace to the ones that don't bite! |
|
Lord Have in the house and the plans is tight! |
|
Now, who be writing rhymes all night? |
|
Pharoahe Moch in the house and the plans is tight! |
|
Peace to the ones that don't bite! |
|
Flipmode in the house in the plans is tight! |
|
|
|
(Outro) |
|
That's right ya'll, Tight Remix. Featuring Ph-ph-ph-ph-pharoahe |
|
M-m-m-m-monch, Lord Have Mercy, and the first and only female of the Flipmode |
|
Squad, Rah Digga |
|
Every time I learn the words to a song, somebody make a remix... |
|
What is going on with all these remixes? |
|
More money, more money, more money... |
|
************************************************** |
|
Who Gonna Check Me BooHey Boo, who gonna check me |
|
Ya thought yo all had the … did you? |
|
Yeah, oh, study fortunate throttle to … so I got the Louie machina so I could smuggle the bottle |
|
About the war, brick city, see the streets respecter |
|
Police on electro, I keeps the extra, the Gucci fleece sweaters, all our reeks … |
|
The same ...bitch now I speak better |
|
More than lace and tracks I … dust it |
|
Nothing less than crack we riding us touch it |
|
Our box cut it, watch the blocks bust it |
|
I got them shit bubbling like shots in your bottom |
|
Little more than a problem, Nostradamo |
|
Never on schedule always good timing |
|
I'm right back on it, I'm right back on it |
|
Ain't even gotta try just suck my ball with |
|
The blink of an eye now the streets are zone us |
|
And do the damn thang till I'm open in shortness, come on |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Got a whole lot of flack and … you |
|
People still, digga digga, now what's left to prove |
|
Spitting properly, ever since ...and foxy, copy, tip and socky |
|
Shrimp and … I turn the hippie when I hit that sticky |
|
Worse than cake, I transform like whip whinkley |
|
All these chicks geeks and less than 6 weeks |
|
I shot all down like tell the … bitch, shut up bitch |
|
Dipping off chain poses, switch seats, back on the stage, might let that bitch speak |
|
Singin all of their hook like swiss beats, freeze |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
If I was you I wouldn't try no papers, never know what's next your name come up on that paper |
|
Get assassinated, lyrically lacerated, to men this is exasperating |
|
Got a classic waiting, let's go, trimming jay to vay … follow way to the ga |
|
Drive me in the streets watch ...to a … |
|
Thing I'm gonna scorch … you … is replay |
|
Go DJ, and I'ma spit it all, I bring the pain you can't … windows in a raw |
|
An old friend's a … real suspect ya, I ain't sharing no ...I might just … this |
|
Did you expect it to get this … I even spit backwards like the bitch dyslexic |
|
Me address … next hip hop's back … |
|
Last chick try to flex that ass got checked, let's go |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo, not you |
|
Who's gonna check me boo |
|
************************************************** |
|
Tell Me Why[Rah Digga] |
|
Rah Digga, P!nk |
|
Let's go, ladies |
|
Do it |
|
|
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
|
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
|
|
|
|
[Verse 1 - Rah Digga] |
|
Put it on, what went wrong, something's happening to my brain |
|
Something strange, can't explain since I got up in this game |
|
Think I'm bugging, call me rugged, this before I had my name |
|
People fussing, brand new cousins, 'nough to drive a bitch insane |
|
Tell me why do I sacrifice my family and my friends |
|
Thought the struggle would be over, finding out it just begins |
|
Call me crazy, leave my baby, and be traveling on my way |
|
Round the clock, making stops to make somebody else's day |
|
|
|
|
|
[Hook - P!nk] |
|
I found myself stressing over ignorant things |
|
I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings |
|
It's like wherever the day takes me now |
|
Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how |
|
|
|
|
|
[Verse 2 - Rah Digga] |
|
Put it on, what went wrong, something's happening around the way |
|
Watching roots and hip hop culture breaking down from day to day |
|
Tell me why, where's the love, all the turbulence and crime |
|
Tryin' to teach my cousins, Frankly, cause we running out of time |
|
The government done found themselves the perfect remedy |
|
Three strikes, give them life, and give the rest immunity |
|
Wanna cry, tell me why, is all these babies in the street |
|
Little girls is barely teens, and they done had more sex than me |
|
|
|
|
|
[Hook - P!nk] |
|
I found myself stressing over ignorant things |
|
I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings |
|
It's like wherever the day takes me now |
|
Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how |
|
|
|
|
|
[Verse 3 - Rah Digga] |
|
Now now now |
|
Don't even know how I'm supposed to be |
|
Motivated by the love of those close to me |
|
While I'm steady on the west, trying to make my ends |
|
Turning friends to enemies, and enemies to friends |
|
Every lesson I've learned, try my best just to show you |
|
Acting like I owe you and I don't even know you |
|
Before it get better, I see it getting worse |
|
So before the struggle do me |
|
Holla do me first |
|
|
|
|
|
[Bridge - P!nk] |
|
Look, thank you LaFace, and I feel so out of place |
|
It's like constant confusion, and I always feel like I'm losing |
|
Something telling me to be strong, something's telling me to go on |
|
Sayin' P!nk, come now let's do this song |
|
Rah Dig', and it's going on |
|
|
|
|
|
[Hook - P!nk] |
|
I found myself stressing over ignorant things |
|
I had to realize all the hate that negativity brings |
|
It's like wherever the day takes me now |
|
Can't be that perfect girl, I don't even know how |
|
|
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] (x2) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
You don't want it baby (tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
Baby, baby, (tell, tell me why, tell, tell me why) |
|
************************************************** |
|
Showdown[Verse 1] |
|
Knock, knock, who dat, sister from the hilltop |
|
Wicked, wicked flows, make a nigga grill drop |
|
Caramel complexion, Feldsburg section |
|
Ready for whatever 'case I'm dealin with some next shit |
|
Rhymin type scenario, niggas only fell |
|
Stay dipped with Nike Airs, Oakleys, and pony tails |
|
Fuckin up some pizza, overcharge my Visa |
|
Million dollar videos, crushin with my tiza |
|
Tell them motherfuckers, I'm tight like Ebeneezer |
|
Scrooge, still look good without ruge |
|
My lipstick, lil misfit, quick to dish shit |
|
Little bit conceited, whole lot consistent |
|
Money, money, money, how we blaze |
|
Splittin shit three ways with me, Zee and Pace |
|
Got bitchasses that think I sound like a dude |
|
Flip rhymes so quick you might think I'm test tube |
|
|
|
HOOK: |
|
In the showdown, how it go down |
|
Get the flow down, watch it go down |
|
How it go down, in the showdown |
|
Gettin closed down, watch em go down |
|
In the showdown, how it go down |
|
Put your dough down, watch it go down |
|
|
|
[Verse 2] |
|
I'm representin bitches 'round the way |
|
We runnin up his box and we ain't gon have to pay |
|
I'm runnin with my mens, I rock a pair of Timbs |
|
With rhymin on the brain like scarves and hairpins |
|
I'm tryin to see a black Benz with my back end |
|
House on the hill with my publishin deal |
|
Shows pay the bills, make it all connect |
|
And do some corporate type shit with my royalty check |
|
Now what comes next, grab myself a Bex |
|
After sex, I tune in to Funkmaster Flex |
|
Then I pop up at Stretch, freestyle to death |
|
And give a shout out to my mens like I was D-M-X |
|
Spit rock type, hot like, jazz or funk now |
|
Throw a spoken word or we turn into a hoedown |
|
Tell me now cuz that's how I ball |
|
'Bout a hundred rhymin niggas up in the U-Haul |
|
|
|
HOOK |
|
|
|
[Verse 3] |
|
Peace to all my peoples in mission |
|
Peace to peoples with they license suspended |
|
Peace goes out to all my hoodrat chicks |
|
Who ain't tryin to hear shit but nicks and fat dicks |
|
What, I rock hoods and I be good like Foxy |
|
Then hit the sushi bars eatin akros with Saki |
|
I'm smokin damn good and chokey black |
|
Niggas know the pokey fat, now all my ex-boyfriends want me back |
|
I rip shows, and sip Tequila Rose |
|
And always be around like I was afros |
|
Y'all motherfuckers crazy, can never outblaze me |
|
Risin to the top cuz that's how momma raised me |
|
Now that the message is embedded |
|
The R-A, D-I, G-G, A gon set it |
|
Hold up baby cuz that's when you lost |
|
Whole prop is our respect don't get caught up in the cross |
|
|
|
HOOK |
|
************************************************** |
|
Album Intro[Intro: Rah Digga] |
|
Whoo, Yes |
|
Ladies and gentlemen, (D-I) |
|
Yall know my name, (Dirty Harriet) |
|
Digga Digga, (How serious) |
|
I'd like (D-I) to shout out my manager Ace Lentz, (This album is) |
|
Let's do this, Megahertz, (2000, D-I) |
|
Flipmode Squad, Busta Rhymes |
|
Outsidaz reppin the bricks |
|
Nobody on the track. (D-I) |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
Yo, When I step in the booth, Flip ugly and I loose all couth |
|
Dig-ga be-have |
|
Maintained the streets, Next journey still with the same peeps |
|
Dig-ga be brave |
|
Ima do this son, Dirty Harriet number one, (Come on) |
|
Dig-ga we straight |
|
Got somethin for you and you and you, Man what's my name yo, (D-I) G-G-A |
|
As we start round two, Next rhyme might be about you |
|
Hope you never see the light, Like Juwanna Man 2 |
|
I'm still makin sure, All my rhymes is tight |
|
Tell you that from day one like they tell us God is white |
|
Imperial chick from Brick City, Doin a buck fifty |
|
Rollin around in trucks strictly |
|
When it's time to break fools, My rhyme styles dagger |
|
Tare you down worse then the O'Riley factor |
|
Do it for my sake, I dare yall to try me |
|
Burn yall up the ass like cancer in the prostate |
|
Best in the tri-state, Perhaps in the country |
|
Headline with no album, That's how bad niggas want me |
|
Might be a little raw, For the average broad |
|
Don't worry baby girl, I got somethin for yall as well |
|
Do tell, Cause everything's a story |
|
It's your favorite little grimey, But my name ain't NORE |
|
|
|
[Ghostface Killah] |
|
It wasn't the way she rapped, It was a talent |
|
God gave it a she brought it back |
|
Tell Bust I said peace |
|
Flipmode flip dough, Zip codes, Go back home on skid row |
|
Niggas don't like Tone |
|
Or you digga, Handle they bitch and I'll get the nigga |
|
Develop that into a real picture, Click |
|
Niggas get that shit, I don't play that shit |
|
I concentrate on hits, Not that BET |
|
Nigga bodies or an ill album, Or a song for them ill mommies |
|
I swear I will dot theses niggas the fuck out |
|
Get to cussin and cuttin, These corny cocksuckers better stop frontin |
|
Word, Blow yall niggas for damn near nothin |
|
We-Got, Yo let them things pop, We got the mean darts |
|
Cheese-Blocks, We the welfare babies with the dark brown birth marks |
|
Don't get your assed up, Fuck that |
|
Ghost and Rah Digga, Taxin niggas, We ain't cuttin back so |
|
Please-Stop, Theodore and Flipmode will invade your whole spot |
|
************************************************** |
|
So Cool(That cool shit) |
|
Call me conductor, I lead the way for ya |
|
Underground vibe, status self-employed |
|
R-A-H aka Harriet Thugman |
|
Carry out the legacy with seed and husband |
|
Now off with the head thangy |
|
Watch flip to a genie |
|
And I be a Mac like Beanie |
|
Out the bottle, I turn thug super model |
|
With rhymes that'll make ya have to settle for Movado |
|
The dirtiest getting all the way live |
|
Steady tappin' my shit, try-na eat while I drive |
|
Speeding to a function to play the little actress |
|
Three hours late and don't even know the address |
|
Madness with the ill sexy flow |
|
And the label spendin' g's not tryin' to let me go |
|
Rockin' on the stage after me, YOU FOOL! |
|
Cause I am so cool |
|
|
|
[Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) |
|
Cause she's so cool, yeah oh |
|
Money baby can't you see |
|
(Can't you see, can't you see) |
|
She's so cool |
|
And you can't be as fly as she |
|
(Never be as fly as me) |
|
|
|
[Rah Digga] |
|
I aim high beat date in December |
|
A million motherfuckers whose face I don't remember |
|
Next to fall with the b-girl ball |
|
Tight gear little cousins |
|
The store from the mall |
|
Rockin' hardcore to some R&B shit |
|
Kickin' rhymes for the round-the-way heads |
|
That I'm at peace with |
|
Love the ice rock silver as a preference |
|
Taking writer's credit so offer a suggestion |
|
So bust dem heads who ain't real wit it |
|
Who don't want shit in life and can't deal with it |
|
I see you |
|
Frontin' like you on my side |
|
Switch sides thanks for the ride bitch |
|
See me on the cover, (Say what?) strike a pose |
|
Just know after that I'm making off with the clothes |
|
Underground rule for real, so what's the haps? |
|
Take it back like kids who fight in playing caps |
|
Or Jacks 'N' Ball, freestyle off the wall |
|
Tell em don't forget the stones when they make the Digga dome |
|
Do away with styling you ain't even found yet |
|
Blow the mic out and ain't nothing but a sound check |
|
Writing rhymes like you wish you could |
|
Tight breaking em down on behalf of sisterhood |
|
Spittin' every time use my looks as a tool |
|
Cause I am so cool |
|
|
|
[Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) |
|
Cause she's so cool |
|
Money baby can't you see |
|
(Can't you see, can't you see) |
|
She's so cool |
|
And you can't be as fly as she |
|
(Never be as fly as me) |
|
Cool |
|
Money baby can't you see |
|
(Can't you see, can't you see) |
|
She's so cool |
|
And you can't be as fly as she |
|
(Never be as fly as me) |
|
She's so, so |
|
You can't be as fly as she, oh |
|
************************************************** |
|
Storm Comin’[Hook] |
|
It’s a storm comin’, it’s a, it’s a storm comin’ |
|
It’s a storm comin’ |
|
It’s a, it’s a storm comin’ |
|
What you gon’ do, who can you trust? |
|
When you feel the heat comin’, are you ready to bust? |
|
If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ |
|
If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ |
|
If we have to |
|
|
|
[Verse 1] |
|
Dear son, hope you hearing every word in my chronicle |
|
Hope it’s finding you in good health, living honorable |
|
Caught a glimpse of the future and it don’t look bright |
|
You gon be in for one hell of a plight |
|
It’s a war going on outside, no art is safe from |
|
They let you take some, unlike that mason |
|
OG, my straight spit from day one |
|
They tell you switch it up, just keep the faith son |
|
Don’t let em digitize you, epitomize you |
|
He’s just another nigga with a mic, telling lies to |
|
Unsuspecting fans, be a self-respected man |
|
Remember mommy’s tales of PE and ex clan, bam |
|
Fast forward to the present day debacle |
|
They bring you underground when you want to preach the gospel |
|
That 13th apostle, that wasn’t on the roster |
|
Found out that I was a female, and that they couldn’t stop her |
|
Your mama was a soldier, heavy burden on my shoulders |
|
Still be spitting, spitting, spitting if I had to do it over |
|
They forever tried to terminate me |
|
Underrate me, believed they should date me, even tried to percolate me |
|
Now here comes the safety, but none of them could tackle |
|
Occasional snaffle, I wave that magic lasso |
|
Whipping up them bars, niggas craved it like the castle |
|
Feeling the heat coming, start busting if you have to |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Verse 2] |
|
I don’t know where to begin, how to tell you how to win |
|
But I do know it’s gon come down to those rhymes in the end |
|
Some pursue other ventures, some lost they step |
|
We done came a long way from the days of salt and pep |
|
They told me shake sells, I took the red pill |
|
I chose to stay street, let culture prevail |
|
I agreed to the weave, [?] the ponytail |
|
Girls nipping and tucking, I said what the hell |
|
I ain’t sign up for that, but to each their own |
|
Said it’s easier to market, easier to clone |
|
Easier to brainwash little kids at home |
|
Easy for them machines to set the tone |
|
Now some say it’s high class, some say it’s hoochie |
|
All up in the mags, free stuff in the two piece |
|
First comes the nip slip, then comes the new leaks |
|
Then comes the sex tape, if I’m lying sue me |
|
I ain’t need nothing but a pen and some loose leaf |
|
Speakers on blast, whipping round in that two seat |
|
Jumping out, bam, show time, just me and the band |
|
Mic checking in my B girl’s stance |
|
Fuck cocaine, fame is a hell of a drug |
|
How far you gon go tryna get that buzz |
|
How many you gon fuck tryna get that plug |
|
In the future are you still gonna get that love? |
|
Ladies! |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Outro – Chuck D] |
|
Thank you Rah Digga |
|
No more silence or violence, just guidance |
|
And let a mother be heard with that true word |
|
No matter how much the powers that be be disturbed |
|
And if it is what it is |
|
Let us define our kids |
|
Make strong daughters, in the ending story of our sons |
|
This from your brother, Chuck D |
|
One |
|
************************************************** |
|
Imperial [Remix](feat. Busta Rhymes) |
|
|
|
Chorus: Rah Digga |
|
Flipmode the Imperial |
|
You know you love it when you hear us on the radio |
|
Go cop the joint and play the shit up in your stereo |
|
Or in the streets up in your Jeeps or in the disco |
|
And if you want the fly shit, my nigga here we go |
|
You know it's Digga lookin pretty in the video |
|
With Bus-a-Bus up in the cut but you don't hear me though |
|
Just when you think we done we hit y'all we got plenty mo' |
|
Blow! |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
It be's the little mama, lip gloss and eyeliner |
|
The only shit poppin like White Castle or the Donna |
|
Rah Digga make the joints that the DJs blast |
|
Ghetto diva in the Source with the 3 page ad |
|
Watch as the hood rat messiah climb swiftly |
|
Labels scarred to death to let their artist bomb with me |
|
Cause you can send your thuggest MC and watch me son 'em |
|
The ruggedest bitch, don't even rhyme about gunnin |
|
Got joints circulating like them old karate flicks |
|
Buncha Rah Digga shirts on some big body chicks |
|
Throw my shit in your hoopty or your luxury trucks |
|
And make the quickest turn around like 'dro for 20 bucks |
|
And I'll still be the greatest if this rap shit fail me |
|
Back to jackin bootleg flicks from out the deli |
|
Livin off the interest |
|
Sippin on Tequila with my logo on the side of fuckin 18 wheelers |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
|
|
(Busta Rhymes) |
|
Ay yo yo yo |
|
Raze and dazzle niggas like ya'll |
|
Spread niggas like you and dismantle niggas like y'all |
|
I got the thing that'll majorly handle niggas like y'all |
|
Fight y'all, bust a semi and cancel niggas like y'all |
|
I know some joke niggas who love to hassle niggas like y'all |
|
Talk, and fix and simply dance on niggas like y'all |
|
Trample niggas like y'all |
|
Make examples outta niggas like y'all |
|
Grit their teeth and cock the hammer up inside the dance hall |
|
Thugs, here's another sample for niggas like ya'll |
|
Or for the ones who pass and light a roman candle for niggas like y'all |
|
Fight for niggas like y'all |
|
Grad the mic from motherfuckers like y'all |
|
Blow the spot in the night for all my niggas like y'all |
|
My get high niggas, I blaze for niggas like y'all |
|
Stink the spot up with 'dro now spray the fuckin Lysol |
|
You know we be the ultimate |
|
We fuckin with some other shit |
|
And when we hit y'all |
|
Yes, we sit and watch ya'll niggas ride the dick |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
|
|
(Busta Rhymes) |
|
A'yo, clap and slap up a nigga for talkin lotsa wack shit |
|
While I roll around with the Harriet Thugman of this rap shit |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Black chick, with intellect, who wanna match wits? |
|
Write my own rhymes so can't no nigga tell me jack shit |
|
|
|
(Busta Rhymes) |
|
Master shit, Flipmode exclusive across the map and shit |
|
Presenting the first lady of the squad so give me dap and shit |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Sayin' peace when you see me, play the role like Ally Sheedy |
|
And I ain't gon' join ya cipher if the weed's too seedy |
|
|
|
(Busta Rhymes) |
|
Yo, make sure you see what we doing now, put on your binoculars |
|
Then I gas ya like a paid latino down at Banco Popular |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Rah Digga underground and gon' always blow the spot for ya |
|
Longest runnin shit since the phantom of the opera |
|
|
|
(Busta Rhymes) |
|
Bus-a-Bus, going down as one of the greatest spoken philosophers |
|
Holding a 12-shot semi with a little red dot for ya |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
First and only female unmatched by anyone |
|
Rip it from old school to the next millenium |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
************************************************** |
|
ClassicAha, yeah, I know it's only one me* |
|
Many of try |
|
If I want to be the queen of the street |
|
I'm just me, yeah |
|
Classic, got that classic |
|
I only forgot to try |
|
... pen |
|
And write the only thought of mine |
|
... just trying to figure it out |
|
It's so easy |
|
Classic, I'm so nut to average |
|
Hook for... from the... |
|
Top gun not one that I'm see... I |
|
GGA only them see GI |
|
Cropped in photoshop, they're not in my telephone |
|
Who want to challenge, I'm on the way to,.. |
|
I'm not breath ain't,.. |
|
Flow low stop like,.. |
|
I'm actually, how should I put it |
|
Let it... it |
|
It'a a village, a a... or,.. |
|
No tell... causious so tell,.. |
|
Since I took some time apart |
|
When the last time you asked why |
|
They got me flow it in, pussy... all in it |
|
Follow in the,.. survive... |
|
... dirty heavy, pump it that classic |
|
|
|
[Chorus:] |
|
Classic, classic |
|
Open that classic |
|
Classic, all day classic |
|
I'm dig it, classic |
|
My dues told to... |
|
Shut, shut them down |
|
No flow... |
|
Might blow the... |
|
... heavy one they hope they pass it |
|
This way just might have to... |
|
... trying to be nice... this time to... |
|
So classic, even my car it's historic |
|
Classic,.. the rap who's... |
|
I leave one drink.... |
|
Launched like... |
|
Bring the game flying over sea too worried |
|
... |
|
Me and my... show up... |
|
Telling them suck up their asses |
|
About that bombastic, is digging in, in, pomp in that classic |
|
|
|
[Chorus:] |
|
Classic, open that classic |
|
Dig it that classic |
|
I'm dig it |
|
Classic |
|
************************************************** |
|
This Ain’t No Lil’ Kid Rap (Remix)[Intro: Rah Digga] (Redman) |
|
(Yessirrrrr~!) |
|
Ev'rybody grown in here right?! (Rated M for mature bitches) |
|
I'm sayin we got the King and Queen of Brick City up in this piece |
|
(I'm grown as a mu'fucker!!!!) |
|
I be seein y'all talkin shit about people too old to rap (NAH!!!) |
|
Fuck outta here!!! What you mean too old to rap?! (Well let's get it then!) |
|
I'll bust all y'all asses, quit playin with me! |
|
Actin like you don't know! (Let's GO!) |
|
|
|
[Verse One: Rah Digga] |
|
SHIT!!!! Comin with that grown folk I ain't tryin to pick a fight |
|
But this ain't a Fisher Price Kidz Bop Nick At Nite |
|
This that Adult Swim rise by the gigabyte |
|
No disrespect but I don't take you for the spittin type |
|
You ain't got no ends in mi casa |
|
I can get smooth Frank Sinatra or spank them in patois |
|
Your girl Rah Rah I do this for a hobby |
|
Whole crowd waitin for my shit, porta-potties |
|
Them bars spill y'all ain't shocked as hell |
|
I tell these retailers y'all better stock the shelves |
|
These hoes be trippin on "Tightropes," not Janelle's |
|
"Make Music with my Mouth" like Biz or Rahzel |
|
Next to me y'all Mattel I'm Shells and Gazelles |
|
It's News Chopper 12 when I rock the bells |
|
Pass Doctor L commits to ass whoopin |
|
Get the belt on these scabs I catch their ass lookin |
|
|
|
[Chorus: Rah Digga] |
|
HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
SHIEEETTTTT!!! This that grown folks music |
|
Homey think he fresh tell tell that motherfucker deuces |
|
(STUPID) They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) |
|
Could spend a whole lifetime fishin |
|
Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission |
|
|
|
[Verse Two: Redman] |
|
YO, I hope no kids up in here, I'm exclusive |
|
That's why them hoes +Hawkin+ me like Yusef {*WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF*} |
|
Haters gon' hate, 'cause they chick on the rooster |
|
SHORTY! I think your car seat need a booster |
|
Drug abuser, Bricks, that's where the bass at |
|
Out of town niggas, pay tax A.S.A.P |
|
Verse for your Maybach, pockets on lypo |
|
YEAAAAAAH!!! "This is It" like Michael |
|
Drop E'RRY month like your me-nstrual cycle |
|
I'm wide open sayin, "Rappers, I don't like 'em" |
|
Tyson in his prime, Louis on Vuitton |
|
And you never work like the project intercom |
|
(NOOPE!) And that's why I'm a grown man, boy! |
|
24 inch ashtray and Altoids |
|
NEVER gettin dressed for the Soul Train Awards |
|
I'm out there, next door to Elroy |
|
BEYOTCH~! |
|
|
|
[Chorus: Rah Digga] |
|
HUH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
UH UH! This ain't no lil' kid rap here |
|
SHHHHHH!!!! This that Brick City ish |
|
And we ain't into beef in all that little kiddie ish |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Tell 'em rhymes do matter but they ain't listnenin (THEY AIN'T LISTENIN) |
|
Could spend a whole lifetime fishin |
|
Won't find another better on this write rhyme mission |
|
|
|
[Bridge: Rah Digga] |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (I mean, they keep callin me!) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (I been chillin) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Rappers sayin they are the best, but they ain't spittin (Bloggin me...) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin (Textin me...) |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
They say I'm what the game been missin |
|
Real lyricist eveytime my name is mentioned |
|
|
|
[Outro: Rah Digga] |
|
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!!!!!! |
|
|
|
[Redman] |
|
Gillahouse, Rah Digga, what's good?! |
|
************************************************** |
|
Party Over Here*NO LYRICS YET |
|
************************************************** |
|
Storm Comin’ (Remix)[Hook] |
|
It’s a storm comin’, it’s a, it’s a storm comin’ |
|
It’s a storm comin’ |
|
It’s a, it’s a storm comin’ |
|
What you gon’ do, who can you trust? |
|
When you feel the heat comin’, are you ready to bust? |
|
If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ |
|
If we have to, if we have to, feel that heat comin’ |
|
If we have to |
|
|
|
[Verse 1 – Jon Connor] |
|
Look, momma thanks for the goddess |
|
I’m normally private, I’m breakin’ my silence |
|
I’m strivin’ to break into the game and maintain and survive it |
|
Couldn’t nine to five it, early on I seen this was my calling |
|
Should I put my all in spitting bars in a one bedroom apartment |
|
Some days I didn’t eat, gave new meaning to the term starving artist |
|
Did it for the culture and stayed away from these vultures |
|
Fuck em, never change my content for profit, stop it |
|
Cause Logic would tell me as long as I’m healthy, my passion will never fail me |
|
What the fuck can you tell me? |
|
I’m never gon’ sell my soul cuz my truth is what made me wealthy |
|
I always picked it myself, in my mind I’ve been taking selfies |
|
Since I was twelve watching Belly, I barely went outside to play |
|
I was making tapes, getting ready |
|
I was watching Rhyme & Reason,I believed hip-hop could keep our people eating |
|
Feed em, even keep us breathing through the legacies we leave em |
|
I ain’t preachin’ but I’m hopin’ that I reach em, teach em |
|
You can change a life just with a chorus or a feature |
|
Went from whack rapper to backpacker to Aftermath’s next chapter |
|
Why y’all playin’ the game backwards? |
|
Trendy niggas is penny pinchers, y’all guinea pigs, gimme niggas |
|
Raw shit still in me, word to my indie niggas |
|
Yeah, I hope they feel me, nigga |
|
You hearin’ to kill my spirit, they have to kill me, nigga |
|
And when they hear my voice, I hope it uplift my niggas |
|
And tell my momma, Sarah Connor, let’s go get these niggas |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
[Verse 2 – Rah Digga] |
|
Always knew it would come a time I be callin’ my sons in rhyme |
|
It’s the rage against the machine, I tell em to jump in line |
|
Gettin’ on my Sarah Con, swinging like Barry Bonds |
|
Tryna wipe aside existence, I’m seeing various signs |
|
Went from fightin’ the power, ain’t no bitin’ allowed |
|
To popularity pose, how many likes in an hour? |
|
These uneducated critics, they be writin’ about us |
|
But they never determine shit, they just hatin’ my prowess |
|
Call us bitter and haters? History eradicated |
|
When we voicing our opinion on some shit that we created |
|
I heard I was racist, I just tighten my laces |
|
This supposed to be rappin’, thought righting wrongs is the basics |
|
So many documented cases of fraud cross the border |
|
I don’t yes man the people, I enforce the law |
|
All the streets [?] Fuck outta here! this total recall |
|
A storm comin’ for your bitch ass, here go the sequel |
|
I ain’t tryna be no star, just tryna teach y’all |
|
Power to the artists united, divided we fall |
|
Seeking, ye shall find, instead of feedin’ the mind |
|
OG’s goin’ crazy tryna keep up with the times |
|
I’m divine, you need design |
|
Three from the line and I ain’t even in my prime |
|
Never compromise the ethics, I leave it all behind |
|
When I feel the heat coming I’m squeezing both the 9s |
|
Like blaow! |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
|
|
(Outro) |
|
People ask me a question all the time |
|
What do you think of hip-hop then and now? |
|
Which is like really crazy, state of the, state of hip-hop |
|
It’s not, it can’t be answered in a discussion or an interview |
|
It’s a course study, there’s a lesson that probably has to take place |
|
Months at a time, those who know, know who |
|
I tell people like this |
|
You know my name, you know my face |
|
And everything else that goes with it |
|
************************************************** |
|
Janis Joplin[Verse 1] |
|
I ain't your ordinary -- I'm that ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb |
|
Hate femcees, could give a fuck if we get along |
|
************************************************** |
|
The Last Word (feat. Outsidaz)(feat. Outsidaz) |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
This is a story... |
|
But not really a story |
|
It's just some freestyle shit |
|
My name is Rah Digga, and this here is Tha Outsidaz |
|
My niggas, tell em |
|
|
|
(Az-Izz) |
|
Since I been on television, girls been beggin me to swell the kitten |
|
Black or white, when the lights go off, I can't tell the difference |
|
Thought you'd impress me, well you didn't |
|
I got mad freestyles and hella-written |
|
The hottest fella spittin |
|
|
|
(Slang Ton) |
|
Never quitin, spittin more Outz than eleven innings |
|
Cheddar spendin, Slang Ton forever shittin |
|
You better listen |
|
|
|
(Young Zee) |
|
Yeah yeah, I tell a chicken "Zee hurtin skeezers" |
|
Fuck you wit the strength of like thirty Herculeses |
|
I want the cash nigga, fuck them scabs |
|
Stab once or twice then the pussy up for grabs |
|
|
|
(?) |
|
I puff the hash in front of your mother's dad |
|
Cut a fag |
|
|
|
(Slang Ton) |
|
And put your brother ash in a duffle bag |
|
|
|
(Pacewon) |
|
Yeah, ya'll fall in love wit that, Outsidaz comin |
|
Leave ya'll drunk like Olde English 800 |
|
Pacewon the fire-breathin Rah Rah dragon in the dungeon |
|
|
|
(Young Zee) |
|
American Werewolf from the Bricks, fuck London |
|
|
|
Chorus (Rah Digga) |
|
Set it off for my heads in Jerz |
|
Swear to God, weak rappers done struck my last nerve |
|
On wit the swerve, mad bags of herb |
|
My Outsida click gon' get the last word |
|
|
|
(Pacewon) |
|
Our attitude is like a bad sitcom, nuttin funny |
|
Slap you like you stole something from me |
|
Yo we got raps by the page like Bill Gates got money |
|
*Along w/Rah Digga* First week out we top twenty, grungy |
|
|
|
(Young Zee) |
|
Dummy Young Zee, come get your mouth injured |
|
Diss us, watch I ?pop willies? without ninjas |
|
|
|
(Axe) |
|
Run your ? wit ya for the Brick City niggas |
|
Shittin on ya like kitty litter |
|
|
|
(?) |
|
You could do fifty situps, and I don't give a fuck if he bigger |
|
I throw a right hook that could drop any nigga |
|
Ya'll rock jewels that's Truck like Chevy pickups, TWISTA |
|
|
|
(Pacewon) |
|
All I want is money and my dick sucked |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
|
|
(Az-Izz) |
|
Az-Izz got bad nerves, rank matters |
|
While you serve steak platters I'ma die ballin like Hank Gathers |
|
|
|
(Axe) |
|
Axe get the dough like cake batter |
|
Pockets stay fatter |
|
The way you rhyme makes me think that you the gay rapper |
|
|
|
(Pacewon) |
|
Face slapper like Roy Jones, I throw a bolo |
|
Break your team up like Chris Shwartz and Joe Niccolo |
|
|
|
(Slang Ton) |
|
Rippin a beige Volvo, bumpin a Slang promo |
|
We sign our autographs, Spell It Out like K-Solo |
|
Tha Outz straight to disk, too hot for tape or phono |
|
|
|
(Rah Digga) |
|
Takin photos wit the black and gray Polo's |
|
Ruinin niggas lives like they K-Ci or JoJo |
|
|
|
(?Nawshis?) |
|
Outsidaz takin a loss, that's a no-no |
|
|
|
Chorus |
|
************************************************** |
|
Solidified..that |
|
…pack that |
|
… |
|
Don’t even ..that, it’s …you’d better go and get that .. |
|
You even think you got a ..you got an ass back |
|
You write the legend tryin to … |
|
I like the new ..gipsy how I thought that |
|
You can’t hang up … |
|
You matter of fact …with your boss.. |
|
It’s going back mother f*cker… |
|
…pull it together like .. cuz I match that |
|
They’re wonna be the hardest … |
|
…some hot … smart thing …super professional … |
|
|
|
Chorus: |
|
Cuz right here is what you call right music, music |
|
For music, good music |
|
You know nigga you got that …you make choose it |
|
Exclusive, I’m gonna be to make you lose it |
|
So come to …ain't’ stop, we’re going … |
|
This is time … will never die |
|
Truth is eternal will never die, … |
|
This is one of the things that I ain’t sitting well |
|
… |
|
I’m sayin hip hop music and I ain’t .. |
|
See when they come is .. |
|
I’m like that ladies … |
|
You’d better say on my .. you can’t afford that |
|
|
|
Chorus: |
|
This right here is what you call right music, music |
|
For music, good music |
|
You know nigga you got that …choose it |
|
Exclusive, I’m gonna be and make you lose it |
|
So come to …ain't’ stop |
|
This is time … will never die |
|
Truth is eternal ….forever die, … |
|
Knock, knock, who is it, … |
|
…sixty , spend and, …miss me |
|
I didn’t miss ...in my mama eyes |
|
She said girl, don’t you know …we keep the hood |
|
…like a piece of mind |
|
He was born for the hip hop job |
|
Nobody getting close to the start |
|
...putting on my …99 is smart |
|
..I got plenty to …hoping to … |
|
…looking like extra ball … |
|
|
|
[Chorus:] |
|
************************************************** |
|
Party & Bullshit (dirty edit)(Intro: Rah Digga) |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 1: Rah Digga) |
|
We 'gon take this through the roof |
|
See me on the move checkin cats like who's who |
|
Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang |
|
Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names |
|
Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks |
|
See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped |
|
And we off to the races (Say what?!) |
|
Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces |
|
Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan |
|
Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand |
|
Mami fly, watch your man |
|
Me takin loses I be damn |
|
What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) |
|
And we stay in the flossin game |
|
See me on the front line like G.I. Jane |
|
Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin |
|
|
|
(Chorus) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Verse 2: Rah Digga) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank |
|
Love is love ma leave it at that |
|
You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu |
|
Keepin up with me how souped is you?! |
|
Boy state your purpose get on down |
|
Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) |
|
Pullin up to my bumper baby |
|
Body language somethin crazy |
|
Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what |
|
Only been here a minute cats startin it up |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Come one come all we 'gon have a ball |
|
Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 3: Rah Digga) |
|
It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader |
|
Come on drop it like a hot potato |
|
Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) |
|
Fellas in the club lookin righteous |
|
With a tight chest I think I might just |
|
Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one |
|
Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun |
|
Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac |
|
In the system watch mami straight throw it back |
|
Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down |
|
Digga Digga is crazy right now |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
|
In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
************************************************** |
|
Break fool - lp original versionYeah |
|
Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha |
|
Rah Digga, Dirty Harriet, Yall |
|
AAAAHHHH Shit |
|
Bricks |
|
See me on the block with tha chromed out drop |
|
Lambskin head to toe bustin out my halter top |
|
'Tight' rippin through tha hood |
|
Blow up the whole spot |
|
With tha system |
|
TV |
|
?Foremon? |
|
EASY!! |
|
Working the scene on the quest for lime green |
|
Steady puffin on brown just for the time being |
|
Battle raps on cock I get all up in your ear |
|
Trying to get a record deal, battling somebody famous |
|
Pounds to my girls as we slide up in the dance bar |
|
Niggas in my grill like they really got a chance |
|
Chicken heads trying to front like they not Digga fans |
|
Say fuck yall!! |
|
Groupies |
|
Do Me |
|
TRULY |
|
Shittin on MC's, what I do for a living |
|
Tight takin over spots like my name was Robin Givins |
|
Anybody got a beat, then they better keep it hittin |
|
Retailers put your fit in for the hottest chick spittin |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
|
By day you play it cool, by night you break fool |
|
Say flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
|
Flood it, whip it, smoke it, trick it |
|
This for my niggas and bitches makin moves |
|
By day you play it cool, by night you break fool |
|
Say flood it up |
|
FLOOD IT UP |
|
Whip it up |
|
WHIP IT UP |
|
Smoke it up |
|
SMOKE IT UP |
|
Trick it up |
|
TRICK IT UP |
|
VIP area |
|
Certain heads get in |
|
Cats without wristbands steady trying to slip in |
|
Weed on delivery, everybody chip in |
|
Dump it, roll it, spark it, smoke it |
|
Ladies where you at say 'Do you queen?' |
|
Gotta krib, gotta whip, high heels, and tight jeans |
|
My straight thug bitches rock Tims and tattoos |
|
After one or two drinks he ready to ACT FOOL!! |
|
Now, this for my real live underground cats |
|
Who be checkin for the rhymes |
|
Not checkin for the track |
|
Take away all the hype and a nigga straight wack |
|
Say fuck dat!! |
|
FUCK DAT!! |
|
Fuck Dat!! |
|
FUCK DAT!! |
|
My squad hold it down passin bars, passin mics |
|
Make emcees stay at home with water and flashlights |
|
Ya motherfuckas crazy telling 'Git Da Git' |
|
Trying to see my clique, ain't even getting past the chick |
|
|
|
[Hook] |
|
For those who want to whip it |
|
For those who want to flood it |
|
For those who want to buy it |
|
For those who want to dub it |
|
For those who want the sexy |
|
For those who want the rugged |
|
Say Digga |
|
DIGGA |
|
Hardcore |
|
SLUGGERS |
|
Comin up fast while you're fallin even faster |
|
A blitz on a Jack handling my money matters |
|
For those who want to smoke it |
|
For those who want to trick it |
|
For those who want to hate me |
|
Niggas know where they can stick it |
|
|
|
[Hook] 2x |
|
************************************************** |
|
Party & Bullshit (a cappella)(Intro: Rah Digga) |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 1: Rah Digga) |
|
We 'gon take this through the roof |
|
See me on the move checkin cats like who's who |
|
Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang |
|
Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names |
|
Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks |
|
See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped |
|
And we off to the races (Say what?!) |
|
Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces |
|
Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan |
|
Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand |
|
Mami fly, watch your man |
|
Me takin loses I be damn |
|
What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) |
|
And we stay in the flossin game |
|
See me on the front line like G.I. Jane |
|
Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin |
|
|
|
(Chorus) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Verse 2: Rah Digga) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank |
|
Love is love ma leave it at that |
|
You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu |
|
Keepin up with me how souped is you?! |
|
Boy state your purpose get on down |
|
Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) |
|
Pullin up to my bumper baby |
|
Body language somethin crazy |
|
Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what |
|
Only been here a minute cats startin it up |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Come one come all we 'gon have a ball |
|
Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 3: Rah Digga) |
|
It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader |
|
Come on drop it like a hot potato |
|
Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) |
|
Fellas in the club lookin righteous |
|
With a tight chest I think I might just |
|
Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one |
|
Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun |
|
Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac |
|
In the system watch mami straight throw it back |
|
Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down |
|
Digga Digga is crazy right now |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
|
In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
|
************************************************** |
|
Party & Bullshit (alternate clean edit)(Intro: Rah Digga) |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
(A Digga Digga y'all) Shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 1: Rah Digga) |
|
We 'gon take this through the roof |
|
See me on the move checkin cats like who's who |
|
Fall through a little spot me and the whole gang |
|
Flirt with a couple cats but I don't say no names |
|
Here we go now, I'm like gypsy chicks |
|
See me cruisin until that my sixties wipped |
|
And we off to the races (Say what?!) |
|
Me and all my aces everywhere we go the same faces |
|
Wave yo' hands, Jersey clan |
|
Drink a little somethin at the MGM Grand |
|
Mami fly, watch your man |
|
Me takin loses I be damn |
|
What's the crew name (Flipmode) off the chain (Big dogs) |
|
And we stay in the flossin game |
|
See me on the front line like G.I. Jane |
|
Old girl get it locked shhh I ain't playin |
|
|
|
(Chorus) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Verse 2: Rah Digga) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
I beat that bitch with a bat (Say what?!) |
|
Get stank I'm a flip to a New York Yank |
|
Love is love ma leave it at that |
|
You see where I'm at movie star like Lucy Liu |
|
Keepin up with me how souped is you?! |
|
Boy state your purpose get on down |
|
Come on work this work this work this (Owww!!!!) |
|
Pullin up to my bumper baby |
|
Body language somethin crazy |
|
Gettin hot in herre this is a party or what |
|
Only been here a minute cats startin it up |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Got trees got licks of the yack (Say what?!) |
|
Come one come all we 'gon have a ball |
|
Bitch mob got seats in the back (Ho!!!!) |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
|
|
(Bridge: Rah Digga) + (Just Blaze) |
|
Shake it around shake it, shake it around shake it |
|
Shake it around shake it |
|
(Just Blaze!) Shake it around shake it |
|
|
|
(Verse 3: Rah Digga) |
|
It's time for the percolator, Dj's 'gon rock the fader |
|
Come on drop it like a hot potato |
|
Everybody let's percolator (Come on!) |
|
Fellas in the club lookin righteous |
|
With a tight chest I think I might just |
|
Hit 'em with a little Biggie one on one |
|
Talkin 'bout he stops drinkin now that ain't no fun |
|
Yeah I'm on that, a little cognac |
|
In the system watch mami straight throw it back |
|
Come on shake it around bounce it around break it on down |
|
Digga Digga is crazy right now |
|
|
|
(Chorus: Rah Digga) |
|
Everybody on the floor I tell ya all |
|
And if ya don't do nothin but play the wall |
|
Come on left side (Left side) right side (Right side) |
|
Front to back come on everybody |
|
We 'gon party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
And party and bullshit and party and bullshit |
|
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(Outro: Just Blaze) + (Rah Digga) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
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In the bricks y'all in the bricks (Where we at?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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To the bricks y'all to the bricks (Where we goin?) |
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************************************************** |
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So Cool (feat. Carl Thomas)(feat. Carl Thomas) |
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(That cool shit) |
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Call me conductor, I lead the way for ya |
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Underground vibe, status self-employed |
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R-A-H aka Harriet Thugman |
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Carry out the legacy with seed and husband |
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Now off with the head thangy |
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Watch flip to a genie |
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And I be a Mac like Beanie |
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Out the bottle, I turn thug super model |
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With rhymes that'll make ya have to settle for Movado |
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The dirtiest getting all the way live |
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Steady tappin' my shit, try-na eat while I drive |
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Speeding to a function to play the little actress |
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Three hours late and don't even know the address |
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Madness with the ill sexy flow |
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And the label spendin' g's not tryin' to let me go |
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Rockin' on the stage after me, YOU FOOL! |
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Cause I am so cool |
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[Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) |
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Cause she's so cool, yeah oh |
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Money baby can't you see |
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(Can't you see, can't you see) |
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She's so cool |
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And you can't be as fly as she |
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(Never be as fly as me) |
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[Rah Digga] |
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I aim high beat date in December |
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A million motherfuckers whose face I don't remember |
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Next to fall with the b-girl ball |
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Tight gear little cousins |
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The store from the mall |
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Rockin' hardcore to some R&B shit |
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Kickin' rhymes for the round-the-way heads |
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That I'm at peace with |
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Love the ice rock silver as a preference |
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Taking writer's credit so offer a suggestion |
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So bust dem heads who ain't real wit it |
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Who don't want shit in life and can't deal with it |
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I see you |
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Frontin' like you on my side |
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Switch sides thanks for the ride bitch |
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See me on the cover, (Say what?) strike a pose |
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Just know after that I'm making off with the clothes |
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Underground rule for real, so what's the haps? |
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Take it back like kids who fight in playing caps |
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Or Jacks ‘N' Ball, freestyle off the wall |
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Tell em don't forget the stones when they make the Digga dome |
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Do away with styling you ain't even found yet |
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Blow the mic out and ain't nothing but a sound check |
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Writing rhymes like you wish you could |
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Tight breaking em down on behalf of sisterhood |
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Spittin' every time use my looks as a tool |
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Cause I am so cool |
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[Carl Thomas](Rah Digga) |
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Cause she's so cool |
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Money baby can't you see |
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(Can't you see, can't you see) |
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She's so cool |
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And you can't be as fly as she |
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(Never be as fly as me) |
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Cool |
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Money baby can't you see |
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(Can't you see, can't you see) |
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She's so cool |
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And you can't be as fly as she |
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(Never be as fly as me) |
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She's so, so |
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You can't be as fly as she, oh |