1. MASTER P 2. Lenny & Squigge 3. Straight Like That Ft. Lil Dap and Big Black 4. Zepplin Fuel 5. Instructions 6. Rising To The Top (Grand Theft Auto Theme Song) 7. This Is Us Ft. Illanoyz 8. Telemundo 9. Lenny & Spitty Go Off 10. Ruck Agg 11. Aint Nobody 12. N.Y.C. Ft. Ike Eyes 13. Above The Law Ft. Starang Wondah and Labba 14. Do Not 4 Get
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
From the first time I heard AZ spit on Nas' 1994 classic song "Life's a Bitch," I knew he was something special. Now here we are 29 years later, 8 solo albums deep and 1 group album with The Firm, Sosa has stood the test of time and has earned the right to be called a legend.
With that in mind, On Q Visuals continues his "Feed the Culture" series by blessing hip hop fans with a dope lyric video for "Time to Answer" off of AZ's latest album, "Doe or Die II."
[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
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.
"I Get Money" is a banger freestyle over 50 Cent's classic instrumental from 2/3 of The Lox ... Styles P and Jadakiss off of Styles' 2007 mixtape, "The Phantom Menace."
What up? Don't listen to the hook, listen to the crook I got the hoodie and the mask on coming for the jooks If I ain't got shit, but a pocket full of lint Got a fully loaded 45, hooptie with the tints Nah, I get money, money I got If not, I have some when I get off your block Like jail you could piss off or get off the pot We rob your whole crew, you won't even get off a shot Ain't a Blood but I get red, dickhead I throw the gun to your bitch head like, "Open the safe" If she don't, you won't believe how I open her face Cut her up, throw her body parts all over the place A little man wanna fuck her them cum in her asshole I'm thinkin', "Why I even give a gun to this rascal?" Now you don't want no type of hassle You the king 'til the Ghost run-up in your castle Know I'm gonna load it up Point 'em out, I'll hold 'em up Like a newborn baby, I fuck around and throw 'em up Nine mil shiny, little man behind me Fuck about rap, nigga, I'm still mad grimy Like cash but I ain't multi Got a new blade, neck need a new bowtie The lil' mama like, "Daddy, why you get so high?" We stay grounded and rob niggas to get so fly Feel me 'Bout to rob these niggas of rap What up to my niggas who cap, I got my mind on crack Or my mind on gats Run up on the kid, I'ma cock it back I'll put your little spine on lap Now the Ghost probably smokin' the roach blunt Team of little grimy niggas to listen and do what the coach want Now I get money, money I got I let the shotgun go on your block What up?
[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Only talk what I live, y'all Real shit, old fashioned bars these niggas ain't able to give y'all Take it back like Velours and Diadors We amor, the 4 5th and the 44 I ain't gotta tell you I get it, 'cause you know I got it Risk my freedom to get what I got in the closet Far as what I got in the bank came from a few rhymes that I had in the tank If I ain't have the burner on me then I had me a shank In the cut, with a Dutch 'bout to have me a drank That's two hundred on the dash, the engine is funny I'm swimmin' in money, nigga Still spendin' Benjaman money I could drop with a royal flush on 'em My moon men in Grammys got dust on 'em Please, look They illin', trust me J chillin' But still got crack in the Section 8 villa Put your money on 'em, bet I blow 'em away And I don't even wash clothes, I just throw 'em away I just had 50 p's, let 'em go in a day These other niggas just talkin', I could show them the way I'm from the Reagan era, way before Bush came And the juice came in the same package the Kush came Trained to snuff a nigga, I ain't with the push games I been getting money from back then, what your name?
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