Duffle Bag Ran has been a lethal lyricist for 2 decades and is finally getting his flowers while continuing to get better and better on the mic. Here's a 2013 throwback video for his freestyle over Rick Ross' "Oil Money Gang" instrumental.
Fuck is everybody so mad at the south for (why) Learn how to switch ya style up go southpaw( you can't) If you didn't mean to say it what you open ya mouth for Better reason for me just to open ya scalp more (uh-huh) All these methaphors and similes are memories I'm about to expose these young dudes identity I'm still slick with the tongue Quick wit a gun Give back to whoever I'm as real as they come Muah is amongst the apprentices And these little dudes is just playing with sentences The differences is They do it for less I do it for best How many live niggas you know that can do it to death yes Life is a bitch and I came in it Similar to melo when comes to the game winners Whatever duke We can lock up or slug it out You would be amazed how we just thug it out what!!!!
[Hook: repeat 2X] Put ya hoodie on just thug it on out ACG boots thug it on out Let ya pants sag just thug it on out New York City thug it on out It can get ugly
[Verse 2] Can hit my target with a slug I'm hawk it The way the bullets come out the thompson is awkward I understand spanish much better than I talk it (vato) I'm always down bottom but I stay on some New York Shit Right now the budget is real tight I just might I feel like like I can drop whenever I feel like Screw what the odds is The boy got the artful dogers sitting on top of the nik boots marvlous Compare me to nothing around in town Unless it's the 2 up in there air or under the ground 25 357's all chrome heads Baseball gloves the champoin hoodies the conehead Me I get the loot and route before I have to shoot it out My flows like a needle right before you get a rootcanal We the one's locking up slug it out show you what a thug about It's a damn shame how we thug it out
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Took care of my business with diddy Now I'm waiting for the ryders and jimmy to slide me a couple of pennies Something mean from the phillipines on my chest and Catching NCAA in high-def'n I don't have a problem with squeezin a quarter Or getting a liter of water just to finish the order Screw 5 months with no d's we can flood it out I know what exactly want me to do is thug it out
[Hook] Put ya hoodie on just thug it on out ACG boots thug it on out Let ya pants sag just thug it on out New York City thug it on out
It can get ugly it can get ugly it can get ugly it can get ugly
Joey Majors has been heating the airwaves with new music and much more heat is on the way. His new single "Ventilation" featuring Q'Dawg is just a small taste of what's to come.
“Mask Man” is the 2nd single of Brooklyn / Syracuse own GREA8GAWD upcoming debut EP "Gawd Tawk." The new single is produced by Billionaire Boyscout. The Gawd took it back to what we've been waiting for, authentic street music. The bars are crazy, the beat is banging, his delivery is spellbinding and the Gawd’s visuals are continually superior. If you’re a fan of real street music, tap in because #ITZWOLFSEAZON !
[Intro: Mister Cee] I don't give a fuck who's first or who's last The Dipset is gonna rock this shit out at a drop of a brick, nigga I don't care what y'all say, I don't care what y'all do But y'all better rep Harlem until the god-damned music is through Mister Cee, let's Go
[Verse 1: Juelz Santana] All eyes on the honorable, who? Dipset, back to the grill again live at the barbecue Beefs on, all my kids ride like a carnival Heat's drawn, all you kids lie, like carpet do Get up and get ready, what up? The kids ready Now that I'm back, the game is fucked, the bitch let me You front, you stunt, you get heat, clown Yeah, punks jump up, to get beat down
[Verse 2: Jim Jones] Now eight years ago, I played the bench with dimes Everybody in my park was getting bent off dimes Pitchin' packs on the block, tryin' to get us some sneakers Sippin' yak, Henney, rock, puffin' nickels of reefer I'm pumpin' on the strip, in the midst of the drug trade I'm watching for the blitz in the midst of the drug raid For niggas gotta eat, it's like my stomach is touching back New York's rider man, for you suckers I'm fuckin' back
[Verse 3: Hell Rell] Now, can I kick it? Yes, I can They wanna know if I'm G'd up, yes, I am Look, I overpaid my dues, I almost made the news The block kinda hot but the cocaine gon' move If I was a brick, you wouldn't know what to do with me You'd probably cook me up, get a stem, and start using me Nobody built me, I made myself And you don't know how to shoot guns, you'd graze yourself
[Verse 4: JR Writer] I was a fiend, before I became a teen It was dreams, toss for the latest beams Made me cream 'cause hey, they kept the kept the powder in the tray Way before it was Maybelene I'm into major stacks, major stats, hate on that Cam, holla 'cause I'm gonna bring his label plaques That ain't made of plat', whoa, your jewelery ain't gold You cop your jewelery from Hov, they all fade to black
[Verse 5: 40 Cal] When I was nine years old, I realized who was the road At the end I cop a Benz when I chop some O's, 40 Smokin' lye, optimoz, poppin' mo's, we both shoppin' Difference is you coppin' clothes, I'll show you how to drop a Rolls Whether a Phantom or a flower, I'm a killer like Jaffi Joe I'm from where they made the cocky flow While hoes puck up on my stick, like you trying to hit a hockey goal
[Verse 6: Un Kasa] I keep a nine in my dresser, lyrical professor Keep you under pressure, ain't a nigga better Mind like a computer, sick shooters Yo, your fam goin' to war with six shooters? I bone bitches with coupes and big hooters Give head, and piff Buddha, pump bricks and sip 'Lúa How you hard? You runnin' with state troopers My niggas is straight shooters, cock back, and straight shoot you
[Outro: Mister Cee] Not in my book, never that, nigga I'll ask y'all niggas to go till the motherfuckin' beat stops When I had the Dipset right, I had Juelz Santana, Jim Jones Hell Rell, JR Writer, 40 Cal, Un Kasa, Dipset forever, nigga Mister Cee signin' off, Duke Da God
Gone but never forgotten. Far Rockaway, Queens, New York emcee Lionel Pickens aka Chinx was finally getting his just due and had begun his ascent to the top of the game when he tragically lost his life on May 17, 2015.
He left behind a great legacy from his days with fellow Riot Squad members Stack Bundles, Bynoe and Cau2g$. Chinx would later link up with French Montana's Coke Boy's crew.
Chinx's biggest hit was a 2014 collaboration with Jadakiss titled "Dope House," off of his "Cocaine Riot 5" project.
Produced by Vealous
Video directed by Tana and Will C of Street Heat Films
[Intro: Chinx] My nigga if you ain't coppin' you ain't got no business around the fucking spot Fuck you hangin 'round the trap for? Up out my dope house
[Hook: Chinx] Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house
[Verse 1: Chinx] No degrees but did my thing in culinary Either that or could've hit them courts and hoop Creep up on them with them hammers we gon' nail em Keep my pistols smoking like some Campbell soup D.A. tryna lock me up for child abuse cause I was whippin' babies In the daycare, and pushed em off the stoop Chopper with the scope, tell them niggas merry Christmas But it won’t be Santa Claus niggas sending through your roof Catch a nigga hanging round the trap, he need to buy something I’ma do the chicken dance with Flocka when them pies come Pull up to the dock and park the V up on the boat Pussy nigga, guarantee less than a key will get you smoked When that money come in, you and some your niggas fall out Hate it when you pull up to the venue with them cars out All my diamonds blue, the jeweler got me on some loc shit And them killers with me down to shoot, ain’t with no ho shit
[Hook: Chinx] Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house
[Verse 2: Jadakiss] Yeah, fuck up out my dope house, where them niggas came from Montega Jada, where you think I got the name from Raised round the junkies, where you think I got my game from Soon as the love stop, that’s when the pain come We ain’t selling bundles either, we just moving big shit Try to disappear with some work, get your wig split You can try to find a vein or you can sniff shit Get it on the arm then I need a little interest Naw you can’t live with us, we don’t want no visitors People call us drug dealers, I say we distributors Haters gone hate cause we keep making em sick of us Keep making it hot, they gone think about evicting us
[Hook: Chinx] Booking on the interstate I'm bailing with them bricks Cooking with the flour, hit me if you need the fish Bottom of the ninth, choppers loaded, that's the ball game Pussy you a target and I barely ever miss Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house Fuck up out my dope house
The Lox heavy spitter Styles P is back with another Ghost Mix. This time he borrows Pusha T and JAY-Z's "Neck & Wrist" instrumental and puts his own spin on it.