Why must you record my phone calls Are you planning a bootleg LP Said you′ve been threatened by gangsters Now it′s you that′s threatening me
Can′t fight corruption with con tricks They use the law to commit crime I dread, dread to think what the future will bring When we′re living in gangster times
Don′t interrupt while I′m talking Or they′ll confiscate all your guitars A catch - 22 says if I sing the truth They won′t make me an overnight star
Don′t offer us legal protection They use the law to commit crime I dread to think what the future will bring When we′re living in real gangster times
[Verse 1: DJ Paul] I comes from a city where they love to hate, especially on that Triple Six They see we really got Bentley′s and Benz′s and they hate the shit They try to come up over us, the radio even help em′ at it But yall ain′t got no flows, so hang it up you silly rabbits I′ma keep on hurting you boys, by making this motherfuckin′ world rock Side to fuckin′ silence bitch for years and man we still ain′t stop Still ridin′ clean, makin′ cheese and carrying plastic glocks And please don′t try to test us cuz you know we′ll let these bitches pop On you hoes, you haters, you niggaz really like us Cuz if you thank us, then you wouldn′t try to sound so much like us I′m the K-I-N-G of that M-P-H-M-S(Memphis) H-C-P, to the E-N-D, others gone be less Come prepared, man I swear they wanna be down with my team Don′t let the shit talkin′ on them CD′s fool you That ain′t what they really mean The truth can hurt so bad so look in they faces when you play us And watch how they look, and watch they jaw drop to the pavement Nigga
[Chorus: DJ Paul] Why yall Test My Gangsta These bitches Test My Gangsta (Repeat 8x) Cuz it′s on now Nigga yeah it′s on now (Repeat 4x)
[Verse 2: Lord Infamous] Nigga don′t you know that Lord can make your life a living hell And I mean that literally, the place where demon spirits dwell Empty all the buck-shot shells, make your fucking body smell I can fuck you up somewhere, to where you were they cannot tell Fuck me with me, you fucking with the best Nigga so all you fucking with the wrong one I will hit you with the milli-milli gun, got a millimeter gun Blow out ya lungs Like them old I-Tal-Ians, Mafia, devil son When you see me coming, better run for fucking cover bum (BLITE!) AK, SK, .44, Tre-8 This body kinda heavy, D.O.A., air away Bitch you better take notes, ′fo you end up cut-throat And ya on the ground bro′, with your fuckin′ shirt soaked Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo, blow a nigga out his clothes Come out the trench-coat with a Sawed-Off, and lay me down a hoe So if you think ScareCrow ain′t a gangsta come and test the waters You will be de-slaughtered, the dearly departed
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Crunchy Black] Why you niggaz wanna test my gangsta? Don′t make a nigga run up and shank ya Or put some cement in yo shit and sank ya Or make you shoot yourself and then I′m thankin′ ya Throw tile over round your throat and drag ya cuz Get nothing from me, but gangsta love No testin′ me my nigga, have you laying in blood Or dig you a grave, cut ya bitch ass up
[Verse 4: Juicy-J] ({Yeah Hoe!} repeated threw the verse) You niggaz be trying to test, I ain′t no slouch I squeeze my fuckin′ fist, my nig′, I break the law I call out a hit my nig′, I make the fall The handle with the bloody trig′, is all they saw ′Fo yo ugly face was down, on the ground A barrel pointed at your frown, with hollow rounds I bet ya wanna run and shit, it′s too late now You shouldn′t have been runnin′ ya lip, to make me clown Bitch!
[Intro: Ving Rhames] He′s a hustler, unbound by law A self-made, millionaire With a wreckless disregard, for the haters Ludacris, on "Southern Gangsta"... A true, entrepre-negro CEO of Disturbing Tha Peace Records He expended his empire into multiple profitable businesses Including his Thai food restaurant, Straits Internet sites, WeMix.com And my favorite, MyGhetto.com The MVP, of this rap shit
[Ludacris] Luda! I′m a hustler, BALLER, gangsta, CAP PEELER I stay strapped like your neighborhood trap dealer I got rifles that blow ya below ya bible belt And mac-11′s that leave you wetter than Michael Phelps! (woo!) But you′ll be swimmin with the fishes Softer than bitches washin dishes, fool what′s the BUSINESS? I′m already rich, so talk mo′ figures (yup) Spit 30 large for cigars of you hoe niggaz (oww!) I got gangstas that′ll rearrange ya whole face And put your casket on ice, now that′s a cold case (ha!) Never forget where you come or that block′ll bang you I keep my ear to the STREETS like a cocker spaniel I cock and blast you, into outer space Break every bone in ya, you so out of place Boom without a trace, you a bluff to block I got some red beams, let′s play connect the dots!
[Interlude: Ving Rhames] He′s the biggest boss, comin outta the M-I-yayo Straight from the "Port of Miami" To keepin it "Trilla" Involved in many heated acts of violence This goes deeper than rap shit He′s worth eight figures So young niggaz, boss up I present to you, Rick Ross, the boss
[Rick Ross] I got a letter from the government, the other day I opened and read it, it said "We want hustlers" Had a Lexus at 18, picture that Got a Chevy with pictures on it from pitchin crack Bitch I know Haitians, we speakin Creole Bitch I′m a D-boy, still slingin kilos I got twenty cars, why exaggerate? It cost me five grand just to fill the gas tanks Love the marble floors, got the Greek pillows Frontin at awards, real street niggaz I used to serve shake, now I serve steaks Three squares on the road, call it 3rd Bass Big ass face, chop you in your laugh face Shoot his ass, aim defense is the last case Keep Jewish friends, the newest Benz You in a pool of blood, let me see you swim
[Interlude: Ving Rhames] Hailing from College Park, Georgia Authorities figured they must have been some sort of mob Or illegal organization According to authorities, they made a quarter mil′ a week Selling {?}, they were some high-rollin hustlers Tity Boi, and Dolla Boy Playaz Circle, A.K.A., the Duffle Bag Boys
[Tity Boi (Dolla Boy)] Uhh, I′m so sick I wrote this verse in a hospital It′s an election year, I support struggle (We roll like bicycles, icicle flow) (White liquor, my nigga stay on line with the blow) I′m on time with the flow, not a minute nor second late Ain′t no such thing as second place (And every day I live heavyweight, you niggaz featherweight) (Fairytale tellin niggaz really need to take a break) And the estate got a lake for a backyard (The pool room product put it all on my sacks card) For real? (Yeah, for real) I′m ill, I deal, I did, I will (I got dogs like Cujo, me and Tity two chains ridin in a two do′) Bitches catch kudos (you know) Yeah we move weight like sumos And kicks it with them bitches like judo SOUTHSIDE!
[Outro: Ving Rhames] Playaz Circle, Rick Ross, Ludacris This has been another episode, of "Southern Gangsta" Thanks for tunin in, what′s next for Luda? Well, anything′s possible, in the (Theater of the Mind)
All i wanted to do was get up and give love a chance All i wanted to do was get it up and give love a chance Ooo looking at you i got energy up in my pants All i wanted to do was get up and get with you
In the bathroom I′m high The cocktail waitress She′s a nice girl, an ice girl She blings like Vegas When the phone bell rings The cat bird sings In the van gets famous Pour some tricks on my plate Here we go now To the hotel, we don′t tell Nathan She′s a leg long, a shoe fly The worlds whole favorite Gets a big deal done Hot like butter If she wants she takes it Pour some tricks on my plate ego
All I really know is she′s gangsta I don′t want to leave yet Who knows of what she′ll think of next
Plays pink guitar Walks around me in bed Runs her fingers through my hair Likes the angels out my window One of the fools Winks that i won′t do her best Then she tells me whose it is Lights go off and on and off and on and on
When we got in the car we get out of hand She invited me places i came to fast Now i′m calling her all the time But she won′t make no plans All i wanted to do Was get up in it with you All i really know is she′s gangsta Man go out and vote she′s gangsta I don′t want to leave yet Who knows what she′ll think of next
Chorus (Ad-libs in parenth.): It′s all about the candypaint, all about the 4′s mayne (Yeah) It′s all about the slab baby, all about the...(yeah) Blowing up in H-Town... Blowing up in H-Town... (Tell me what y′all know about this H-town chick) It′s screw in Houston...H-Town H-Town It′s all about the candypaint, all about the 4′s mayne It′s all about the slab baby, all about the.. Makes the beat chop chop.... Makes the beat chop chop.... Makes the beat chop, makes the beat chop H-Town H-Town
1st Verse: I like them gangsta grizills Riding through like did you see those big wheels Pop trunk and let me feel, I got chills Now what you know about a baller, shotcaller Now won′t you tell me what it do, where you from I′m from Houston keeping it screwed up And what you used to, tippin′ on 44′s On the north they stay braided up, south faded up
Hook: I see you with ya candypaint Do you got them dollas man It′s all about the heavyweight Let me hear ya holla man Houston you know what it do Let me hear ya holla man Toya just too much for you Let me hear ya holla, oh
Chorus
2nd Verse: I got a thang for them gangstas with grillz Top to bottom like he spendin big skrill So what you into, tell me home what′s the deal Cause I wanna be your baby, driving you crazy Cause we act a fool where I′m from Houston, Texas keeping it screwed up And you can bet a thug is what I′m used to Cause that′s what I′m all about, want you to holla out
Hook
Chorus
Rap (Killa Kyleon): That′s right They know who it is Killa Run it 4 tires, 4′s spinning like a ceiling fan Seats reclined, smokin′ pine with wheel in my hand Diamonds shinin′, gangsta grill lookin like a 100 grand Now that′s a Texas thang, mayne you wouldn′t understand Yea we got that country grammar just like the St. Lunatics In Texas "We screwed up" that′s how we be doing it Cause round here, it ain′t all about account and brokers Boys sitting fat with stacks taller than the Alamo Hook
Only money in the world Ain’t weren’t dieing for Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more
Sluschai moi song, mafiosi Kak pazient pri gipnosa Ja tebe solju w rap prose Budto ja waterkloset Legenda dlja millionaw, kak budto don karleone Brosaju w boi legioni slow kak napoleon
Waschi teksti ot besa I neimejut wesa Ja goworju wam 4esno Wascha zena polpesa Ja Napisal etot trek, schtobe kaschdii snal, kto tut rap Sluschal ego wperet, sel na nego kak budto eto krek
Eto moi gangsta rap Potomu schto wne sakona Eto moi gangsta rap Dlja efira sapreschenii Eto moi gangsta rap Dlja moich okrani i rajonow
Chorus: Only money in the world Ain’t weren’t dieing for (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Ja poju tibe ego) Boy you better think twice Before you walk out of that door (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more
Snisu kak underground Ja na4al body count I dlja tebja sei4as Eto poslednii round I esli ho4esch, sowi menja killer, ja napregaju, kak thriller Delaju easy money budto narkodealer
Grosnii kak kosa nostra S rifmami kak u monstra Budto soschol k wam s postera Schgu budto perez ostro Ja napisal etot trek, schtobe sabrat wasch chleb, budto ja pol breg I snitsja po no4am wam, slowno schrek
Eto moi gangsta rap Potom schto neformat Eto moi gangsta rap Potomu schto schöt bes matta Eto moi gangsta rap Potomu schto wsö w nöm prawda, bratka
Chorus: Only money in the world Ain’t weren’t dieing for (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (You won’t be a gangsta no more) Boy you better think twice Before you walk out of that door (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Eto moi gangsta rap)
Kto skasal rap eta posa Dlja pozanow bes mosga Ja na4itaju s forsam No ni igraju w bossa Ja ne ho4u popast tebe w playlist Ja ho4u schtob kaschdii moi relis, kaschdii disk, trachnul show biz
Pomnju ja wsal mikrafon Pomnju ja stal igrakom I ne schalel ni o 4öm Budto ja Al Kapon I kulakami kak w ringe ja stroju was budto king Eto moi trel asassin, eto moi gangsta-dream
Eto moi gangsta rap Potomu schto on ot boli Eto moi gangsta rap Schto ne ischet lochkoi doli Eto moi gangsta rap On kak ja ne moschit schit bes woli
Chorus: Only money in the world Ain’t weren’t dieing for (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Ja poju tebe ego) Boy you better think twice Before you walk out of that door (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Eto moi gangsta rap)
Only money in the world Ain’t weren’t dieing for (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Ja poju tebe ego) Boy you better think twice Before you walk out of that door (Eto gangsta rap) Remember that you promise me You won’t be a gangsta no more (Eto moi gangsta rap)
Alleine mit mir, tausend Fragen im kopf. Jede Nacht zieht unendlich vorbei. Was such ich fur mich, ich finde es nicht. Was bin ich und wer will ich sein? Wann geht denn endlich meine Sonne auf? Ich lauf und lauf und lauf…
Angst, ich hab Angst Auf diesen Wegen, die ich geh. Angst, ich hab Angst Dass ich mich selbst nicht mehr versteh. Was will ich wirklich, was ist mein Ziel? Will ich denn wirklich zuviel?
Ich glaube daran, dass mein Traum richtig ist. Doch die Schatten sind immer bei mir. Sie flustern mir Zweifel tief in mein Herz. Was tu ich, warum und wofur? Wann find ich die Antwort, der ich vertrau? Ich lauf und lauf und lauf…
Angst, ich hab Angst. Auf diesen Wegen, die ich geh. Angst, ich hab Angst, Dass ich mich selbst nicht mehr versteh. Was will ich wirklich, was ist mein Ziel? Will ich denn wirklich zuviel?
Wer zeigt mir den Weg? Was gibt mir Kraft? Zu wissen, was mich glucklich macht…
Angst, ich hab Angst Auf diesen Wegen, die ich geh Angst, ich hab Angst Dass ich mich selbst nicht mehr versteh Was will ich wirklich, was ist mein Ziel? Will ich denn wirklich zuviel?
Midnight rush with a pen in my hand Thinkin linking singin script with a fan Remembering me before we began Sometimes I felt so deaf in the jam But the ones who loved me told me to stop Like homegirl can′t get jitter for drop- A superwoman chick you know that I am Some shit don′t fly by me in a man
Cuz I do not accept any less than someone just as real, as fabulous
chours Don′t want no paper gangsta Won′t sign away my life to Someone whos got the flavor But don′t have no follow through- Don′t want no paper gangsta Won′t sign no monkey papers I dont do funny business Not interested in fakers Don′t want no paper gangsta oh ohhhh Don′t want no paper gangsta oh ohhhh Don′t want no paper gangsta
Cuz something so shiny to start Want me to sign there on your range rover heart I′ve heard it before. Yeah, the dinners were nice ′till your diamond words melted into some ice You should have been around to the beat of my song Mr. california paper gangsta raw I′m looking for love, not an empty page Full of stuff that means nothing but you pimpin′ ladies
I do not accept any less than someone just as real, as fabulous
I′m here now you old news Gotta couple old porches, couple old schools I′ll line ya ass up push ya tape backwards Cuz ima real nigga I don′t like rappers And that ain′t this and this ain′t that And bitch I′m strapped Fuck wit real niggaz that′ll cut ya throat And they don′t drink Pepsi they just sell Coke All I do is talk dro its like my brain on drugs See me out nigga I do my thang in clubs Listen up Jeezy gotta a little riddle Stack of 20-dollar bill two bands in the middle
[Chorus] All the gangstas they gon ride to this They gon grind to this They gon shine to this This is gangsta music, this is gangsta music, this is gangsta music, and this is gangsta music All the hustlers they gon ride to this They gon grind to this They gon shine to this This is hustler music, this is hustler music, this is hustler music, and this is hustler music
We don′t talk on the phone cuz it might stick Gotta play for the 7 call it Mike Vick Dirty birds nigga we play wit dem falcons Know some niggaz in the Decatur that pay for dem falcons Talking young hungry niggaz eat ya whole plate Jeezy place the order niggaz eat ya whole face You got me Mr. Scrooge all fucked up Jump out hit the switch light ya ass up Carbon 15 wit the one pound drum Got plenty for any nigga think he wants some We don′t leave ′em at the house we bring ′em out My chain for yo life we can swap it out
[Chorus]
The hoes love my voice Make they pussy moist Certified g shit and I′m the gangsta′s choice Niggaz popping off hope they bullet proof Leave holes inside ya like a sunroof Mack 11 in the club and a sub nose Swear to God knock you niggaz out ya clothes Lay ya ass flat like a doormat Niggaz ask for but they don′t want that In the rap game takin niggaz clientele White ones like the powder that I used to sell Give a fuck about a playa hater
[50 Cent - Talking] Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit Acting like my money ain′t no good in the hood, you know what I mean? Fucking head blown off nigga, you know?
[Chorus x2] They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain′t about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I′ll stop ′em from talking like that
[50 Cent] I′m the talk to hit every barbershop and beauty salon Cause these other niggas that rap ain′t on the shit that I′m on Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack But when I come through, shh... the talking stop My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock All the hoes I got, cause he stunts in the drop Now, naw, you love the kids, 50 on that killa shit That been mobbed the bad man, bitchy as guerilla shit I′m marking my music like diesel on the block So if you with me you gon′ eat and you gon′ starve if you not Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha I′ll send your kids through the shooter, Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova They tell me see careful good, cause niggas wanna see like you They ain′t used to a G like you, BLAM!
[Chorus]
[Young Buck] You think you a killer but we gon just pay ′em a visit Put the potato in the barrel so nobody hear it I keep a holster on my shoulder like I′m John Wayne Shooting these niggas lights out like Lebron James Holla my name, gimme a reason to see you bleeding After you feel these hollow tips, nigga, then we eating Full of anger until there′s no more bullets in the chamber Ain′t nothing like when you get popped and don′t know who to blame-a Nigga told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely" So I go hit them niggas ′fore 50 couldn′t even hold me I′m waiting, anticipating to put a nigga under Smoking like we some Jamaicans fucking with this ganja Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must Bad as I want to, some shit I just don′t discuss So point him out and watch how I knock him off Everywhere you bitches go, I got a nigga watching ya′ll, motherfuckers!
[Chorus]
[Lloyd Banks] Come on, nigga, I ain′t here to make no friends, just cut the checks I got a long pump that′ll put your stupid ass up in steps Begging niggas don′t understand though Probably cause my hand glow when I′m anticipating the lambo Lean out my bucket for niggas thinking they Rambo You get one warning so I suggest you let your man know These rap niggas portray to be tough, nobody acting soft ′Til they laid out in the hospital, eating applesauce Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic Waving a white flag, the danger they might have My niggas buying so much ammo If you reach in the couch for loose change, you′ll probably feel on the handle Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes There′s only one team on top, we number one with a glock Fuck around and get your dumb ass SHOT!
[50 Cent - Talking] Yeah, niggas talking all that gangsta shit Acting like my money ain′t no good in the hood, you know what I mean? Fucking head blown off nigga, you know?
[Chorus x2] They, they talking that That gangsta shit They ain′t about that Man, matter of fact Hand me my strap Show me where they at I′ll stop ′em from talking like that
[50 Cent] I′m the talk to hit every barbershop and beauty salon Cause these other niggas that rap ain′t on the shit that I′m on Cause 50 this, 50 that, 50 stay with a gat Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the Mack But when I come through, shh... the talking stop My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock All the hoes I got, cause he stunts in the drop Now, naw, you love the kids, 50 on that killa shit That been mobbed the bad man, bitchy as guerilla shit I′m marking my music like diesel on the block So if you with me you gon′ eat and you gon′ starve if you not Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha I′ll send your kids through the shooter, Crip niggas love me like they love Hoova They tell me see careful good, cause niggas wanna see like you They ain′t used to a G like you, BLAM!
[Chorus]
[Young Buck] You think you a killer but we gon just pay ′em a visit Put the potato in the barrel so nobody hear it I keep a holster on my shoulder like I′m John Wayne Shooting these niggas lights out like Lebron James Holla my name, gimme a reason to see you bleeding After you feel these hollow tips, nigga, then we eating Full of anger until there′s no more bullets in the chamber Ain′t nothing like when you get popped and don′t know who to blame-a Nigga told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely" So I go hit them niggas ′fore 50 couldn′t even hold me I′m waiting, anticipating to put a nigga under Smoking like we some Jamaicans fucking with this ganja Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must Bad as I want to, some shit I just don′t discuss So point him out and watch how I knock him off Everywhere you bitches go, I got a nigga watching ya′ll, motherfuckers!
[Chorus]
[Lloyd Banks] Come on, nigga, I ain′t here to make no friends, just cut the checks I got a long pump that′ll put your stupid ass up in steps Begging niggas don′t understand though Probably cause my hand glow when I′m anticipating the lambo Lean out my bucket for niggas thinking they Rambo You get one warning so I suggest you let your man know These rap niggas portray to be tough, nobody acting soft ′Til they laid out in the hospital, eating applesauce Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic Waving a white flag, the danger they might have My niggas buying so much ammo If you reach in the couch for loose change, you′ll probably feel on the handle Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes There′s only one team on top, we number one with a glock Fuck around and get your dumb ass SHOT!
[story-teller] Once upon a time, in the black part of the city [young kid] Yo G, yo G you better get out of here man, 5-0 [door swings shut, car peels out]
[Russ] Yo Ice Cube, man [Cube] Whassup man? [Russ] Why you... [Cube] Whassup? [Russ] Yo Ice Cube man, why you always kickin the shit about the bitches and the niggaz? Why don′t you kick some shit about the kids, man? The fuckin kids?! [Cube] Word
Verse One: Ice Cube
Little boys and girls, they all love me Come sit on the lap of I-C-E And let me tell ya a story or two About a punk-ass nigga I knew Named Jack, he wasn′t that nimble, wasn′t that quick Jumped over the candlestick and burnt his dick Ran up the street cause he was piping hot Met a bitch named Jill on the bus stop Dropped a line or two, and he had the hoe At that type of shit he′s a pro So Jack and Jill ran up the hill to catch a lil nap Dumb bitch, gave him the claps Then he had to go see Dr. Bombay Got a shot in the ass, and he was on his way To make some money, why not? Down on Sesame Street, the dope spot There he saw the lady who lived in a shoe Sold dope out the front, but in back, marijuana grew For the man that was really important Who lived down the street in a Air Jordan Ride to the fellow Mister Rogers and hoes Drove a 500 sittin on Lorenzoes He broke out, Little Bo Peep, smoked out Saw, her and her friends sellin sheepskins
[Little Bo Peep] Yo yo I got them sheepskins Yo, my empty sheepskins Yo baby, what′s up with that?
Hickory dickory dock, it was twelve o′clock Cinderella ain′t home must be givin up the cock I don′t doubt it, she is kind o
Hey motherfuckin Cube, what the fuck wrong with you? You didn′t kick the rest of that Gangsta Fairytale shit Why don′t you kick it one good time Niggaz on the playground wanna know what′s happenin You left em hangin man, what the fuck?
Verse One: Ice Cube
Little Boy Blue is outta Folsome Now them three little pigs gotta roast him Drivin down Sesame Street and I bet That little motherfucker′s out fuckin Smurfette Ain′t saw the wolf yet, but it′s no doubt They′ll catch his ass slippin at his grandma house They got the Mac-10 pointed out the coop Cause they gotta follow they nose like Fruit Loops Peeped out Little Miss Muffet on her tuffet eatin grits She saw the Mac-10 and the bitch had the shits Ran into her house, called up her crew Cause Red Riding Hood wants to kill Little Boy Blue And the wolf too, what is Mister Rogers doing? Moved out his Jordan, bought him a Ewing Him, Little Boy Blue and the wolf in the cellar Planning on gettin Cinderella Cause Cinderella still works for the pigs Through with the dwarfs, fuckin Bebe′s kids Now Snow White got the horny ass fever Fuckin the Beauty′s Beast like Jungle Fever Now the word′s on the street When the crews meet You better make some fuckin room Cause it′s on with the pigs and them other nigs When the cow jump over the moon, everybody jump
Verse Two
Now Little Boy Blue is up front WIth the nine millimeter, ready for the hunt Little Red Riding Hood caught his ass slippin Drew down on the boy cause the bitch is steady trippin About to get loose with the deuce deuce That′s when the boy said, "What about the gang truce?" The little hoe had no words The wolf came around and the bitch got served Three little pigs bought wigs Dressed like sheep, Cinderella is Little Bo Peep Tryin to creep, on the crew The wolf, the Rogers, the Blue, they through Cause the pigs did the buck buck bang, ping Now you hear the fat lady sing Cinderella, ran like a bitch To the pay phone cause the bitch is still a snitch Now the pigs are caught by the pigs and taken In the pen to get fried like bacon You still can′t trust no hoe And Ice Cube′ll tell the kids how the stories, should go
Outro: Little Russ
Yeah Cube, man that shit was dope nigga You all that and a bowl of grits Nigga that shit was on props, nigga! Yeah that′s how you kick that shit for the ninety-deuce, nigga What′s happenin nigga?! Yeah nigga that′s Gangsta Fairytale part 2 nigga All you trick-ass niggaz can′t fuck with it
(Black Child talking) What′s up Chi-town? Yeah, Murder INC. back up in ya area On that gangsta shit ya know Connect worldwide Worldwide gangsta shit nah mean? From Chi-town to Miami Houston to mother fuckin′ LA, we connect nigga With some gangsta shit
(Caddillac Tah) Mother fuckers, you frontin′ we comin′ with heat niggas AR-15s we sweepin′ up the street bigger Guns make niggas run, we squeeze triggers We leave niggas dead for the stacks, slumped over, head in they lap
(Black Child) Yo, we constantly count cream in the crackhouse Basically, we bangin′ bitches backs out I feel like the last child Throwin′ bricks at a glasshouse Poppin′ and puffin′ till I pass out
(Caddillac Tah) This gangsta shit is for all my youngens who flip birds And hug the block, in club they Cris and twist the bud, nigga what We live it up, from Chi-town to my town We diggin sluts, long dickin′ in the guts
(Black Child) We just religious thugs, gangsta pimps Hoes fall in love the way we throw this dick The Hummers on dubs look like tanks and shit We came to stop the bank, don′t blink be sick
(Caddillac Tah) Nigga all of our love is for the chips And I don′t chase hoes, just pasos and bricks Nigga let me sum it up Y′all niggas is dumb enough Run on up, the guns we tuck, bust Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
(Black Child) Holla at us, R-O-C-K-L-A-N-D and I-N-C With Boo and Gotti, Ferrari Black and Caddillac Tah Nigga, we go hard
(Gotti) I′m loud when the shells pop Still I sell rock Got outta jail on bail, gettin′ ready to plot Yo I kidnap niggas Then bitch smack niggas Give me the crack nigga or get clap nigga I ain′t one of these rap niggas I′m a big gat spitter Bangin′ and slangin′ to be a rich ass nigga Don′t get tired in these streets My nigga died in these streets It′s only one option, provide for these streets My peeps out here so I ride with these streets Spent weeks out here, grind on these streets I know the deal out here It′s real out here Got bitch bud murder and I′m still out here Rockland, Murder INC. you get killed out here Chi-town, New York, blood spill out here And thugs like me, still out here Yeah you heard nigga, I′m still out here
(Boo) A yo I ride up, lied up outta my mind Black Cadillac truck nigga, loaded with nines To my thugs on the block, holdin′ it down I got love on the block, look at my eyes Rockland, Murder INC. what the fuck you think Me and Gotti whole plan is to cover the streets We don′t wanna body you man, fuck the beef We sell a lot of these grams, and clutch the heat To many moves to be made, fake thug niggas Get a few through they brain, I been plug nigga It′s rules to the game Cats like me play not to lose in this game You see this little nigga makin′ moves in the Range I see you wack niggas still crusin′ with lames Get full nigga cause it′s food to the brain Rockland nigga spit fire and flames Get it right nigga, we gangsta
(Ja Rule) Murder INC. gets poppin′ pills, clips, however you like it Niggas get extorted, bitches get excited Known to start riots, the Rule and I-N-C Got fedaraleighs watchin′ me, the Y-G and I-G Put it together family orientated through guns, drugs, and good relations Real conversations, we call it real talk And that shit spreads all the way from LA to New York And I love talk, that′s when you get to smash on niggas Catch ′em in the dark spot and put the flash on niggas Cameras, lights, action, go buck at the master C′s and past if when I die blow my ashes Off the shores of Costa Rica, nigga to each is own The Rule ain′t dyin′ alone motherfuckers
Haha what’s up ladies How ya’ll doin’ Yea I know what ya’ll need All of ya’ll And that’s ya’ll gangsta boo right Come on Mmm Yea…Yea Oh no no
It was 6 o’clock on the dot That’s when I seen this cutie She was chillin′ at the spot she was wit her girls I was wit my boys All of a sudden I asked her to come over and say “Wot up ma How’d you like to get to know me? I’m not shy I’ll do anything for you and I’m that guy Say I pick you up at eight I promise I won’t be late”
{Girl} ‘Cause all I ever wanted was Someone I could hold on to Someone who would never break my heart in two {Chris} can I be the one for you? {Girl} lets sing out and let’s see
Shorty wanna rider {gangsta boo} I told her that I’d call her {it’s true} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on come on Shorty want a baller {gangsta boo} Someone who can spoil her {it’s true} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on, come on
I never met no-one like you before But I gotta take this chance Cause if I don’t I’ll never know What this girl is really looking for I may not have all the money {so who cares} I may not have all the fancy cars {I’d still be there} But what I have to give you baby Is so much more
{Girl} ‘Cause all I ever wanted was Someone I could hold on to Someone who would never break my heart in two {Chris} can I be the one for you? {Girl} lets sing out and let’s see
Shorty wanna rider {gangsta boo} I told her that I’d call her {it’s true} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on come on Shorty want a baller {gangsta boo} Someone who can spoil her {it’s true} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on, come on
Hey shorty you’re the one Nice lips thick hips Put me on Too tough come on girl Break me off I can’t see you wit nobody else Nobody’s like your Chris {noo}
Come on baby {x2}
Shorty wanna rider {gangsta boo} I told her that I’d call her {it’s true – yes I did} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on come on Shorty want a baller {gangsta boo} Someone who can spoil her {it’s true} I’m not looking for the love but I think that you’re the one So come on, come on
Это флоу Ванин,это соль в раны Я знаю,что ты знаеш улицу,ты бомж пьяный Ты не фартуеш по ночам,ты зависаеш в парке Я выхожу на улицу и засверкали пятки Вы заиграли в прятки,парни это чё такое? Я думал ты приступник,думал,что ты вор в законе Но запомни мне наплевать на gangsta имидж Я ни слова не поверю чё ты в текстах пишеш Мои трэки - пули,твои - скэри муви Это лучший shit на улицах,как снег из Кубы Нет,ты не главарь банды,нет в твоих словах правды Я пробиваю черепа,мои слова - камни На,Вано,послушай мой рэп вас собьет с катушек Какие пушки,вы стреляете в котов с воздушек Мне поебать на всё,да Царь есть распиздяй,парни Ты не уличний боец,пацан не поднимай грабли!
Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам, я не верю вам, я не верю вам! Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам, я не верю вам, я не верю вам! Нет, нет,н ет, я не верю вам, я не верю вам, я не верю вам! Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам, я не верю вам, я не верю вам!
Я нахал,наглец,я насрал на всех Вы тупые обьезяны,а я Царь как лев Чё вы хотите зделать,чё вам нада от меня Я открываю рот,травлю вас ядом как змея Парни пиздят про кокаин,но тянут в нос шору Мы не верим,вы не в деле,это всё шоу У меня стерва на столе,у тебя гера на фольге Я читаю рэп,что бы были евро в портманэ У меня демон в голове,я горю от злобы Бошку ломит я употребляю наркоту от боли Вы мухи на гамне,ваши губы в молофье У меня скоро будет кэш и Бумер в гараже Твои губы в молоке,молокосос сопливый Твои зубы на тропе,Ваня ваш босс отныне Ты бесишся от зависти,пацан знай,зависть губит Это Optik Russia,Czar i Parliament music!!!
Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет, нет, нет, я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам!
Нет,нет,нет,я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет,нет,нет,я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет,нет,нет,я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам! Нет,нет,нет,я не верю вам,я не верю вам,я не верю вам!
Stand out There′s something about the way that you do it So bottle it up, that way you won′t lose it for love Big sound Dreaming you up, I′m feeling so erratic Your holding me down, I′m set to automatic So loud
Saw an apple in every vibe Whenever your rub-a-dubbin′ Pineapple is playin all night He′s the one, he′s the one Baby
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Spaced out Ready to take the seat of your intentions There′s more then one thing that I forgot to mention Go down Turn ′round Been checkin′ you out and watchin′ you undo it Been pickin′ it up and love the way you throw it all down
Saw an apple in every vibe Whenever your rub-a-dubbin′ Pineapple is playin all night He′s the one, he′s the one Baby
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Face down Wiped out Brotha let me peep this I′m a ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-gagaga Gotta keep the peace You got me spaced out Wiped out Brotha let me peep this I′m a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta Gangsta love
Pineapple is playing all night He′s the one, he′s the one Baby
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Day after day (my MC) putting the rest to shame Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love Day after day (my MC) gotta give up the name Cos he′ll be givin me gangsta, givin me gangsta love
Припев: Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Григорий Лепс, для вас - number one gangster. У нас он самый народный певец, так что *бама в булках расслабься! Не надо стеснятся, Барак, чувак, ты лучше всех приколи, Что каждую ночь под подушкой слушаешь песню Лепса Натали!
Адреналин в твоей крови вечно кипит, и Обама не спит - Он слушает Лепса, слушают всем "Белым Домом" вместе ! Мне интересно, мне говорили - это не шутка и не прикол - С Лепса фанатет не только "Белый Дом", а весь Пентагон!
Заполнив танспол, под песни танцуют, но каждый реально боится Гришу Лепсвиридзе, Гиришу, Гришу Лепсвиридзе! Закрыли въезд в "Штаты", забаррикадировали все границы От Гриши Лепсвиридзе, от Гриши Лепсвиридзе!
Припев: Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Слова - не воробьи, мои слова летят быстрей, чем пули. Запомни, нормально делай - нормально будет. Законно и честно, пока Лепс пел и поднимал нал - Где-то на пальме **рак *бама свой желтый банан доедал.
Россия - капкан, послушай братан, она для мартышек опасна. Не поможет бронежилет, пластырь, каска и "M16. Это не сказки, у на вечный мороз, град и снег. У всех есть балалайки, и каждый второй житель России - медведь.
Ваще афигеть, мы не носим снеп беки, мы носим ушанки, И вместо "бумера" и кобыл, - у меня с конями санки. Лепс - "крестный отец", он даже круче Дона Карлеоне. У него в микрофоне взрывчатка, у него в рукавах патроны!
В общем, Американцы, предлагаю продолжать нас боятся, - И следующим гангстером объявите Михайлова Стаса.
Припев: Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Григорий Лепс - this is Григорий Лепс, Gangster - Gangster Number One Russian mafia! Всем бояться! Григорий Гепс, this is Григорий Лепс! Oh, ueah! Рюмка водки на столе, рюмка водки на столе!
Welcome back home parmi les miens, зa fait du bien homie la route est longue all alone aux quatre coins du monde j′ai rйpendu la nouvelle йxйcuter mes plan comme prйvu, plus rien n′est pareil tu devrais les voire comme des oufs partout oщ j′suis passй j′en ai vexй qulques uns qui savait pas trop ce qui se passait imprйssionnй par mes faзons de faire mais trop de jaloux pour les dire, ils veulent croiser le fer fuck them homie la vie est belle pour moi chaque fois qu′ils dissent mon nom c′est plus d′oseille pour moi and I dont′ give a shit so,let them puisses hate so I′m a baller, I′m a roller sur paradise XO this is for my homies, this is for my dirties this is for ly gangsters and my hustlers, one time I said
(refrain): this is a gangster party and how we do, we rock it like nobody nobody baby nobody baby this is a gangster party welcome back, it′s good to see you shorty
ain′t nothin′ like a gangster party baby et mes home boy sapй a la John gotti baby des big boss la classe est flashy baby it′s ugly, it′s getting nadty baby we will hurt you, on en a vu d′autres passer qui sonttombйsous les poings knock out punch like rocky boy fait tes priиres, bitch I′m too cocky la fidйlitй de ces gars me tienne a coeur, le respect c′set pas parce moi j′en suis sorti qu′eux doivent y rester a part la loi de la rue et de la protection, y a l′amitiй le coeur, on marche les coudes liйs this is for my homies, this is for my dirty this is for my gangster and my hustles, one time, I said
[Intro: Ca] Shady Records own, bogus boy Ca, it′s Ca nigga, ah-ha ha I′m here, right back on y′all, nigga Blocc Boyz, what the bid′ness is, nigga Seven-fo′, let′s go!
[Ca] In this industry, a fifth of Hennessy I′m tryna get with the bid′ness so where the bitches be When I flick the Vogues, I′ma get the hoes In a seven-fo′ Lincoln black, two do′s Hope to strap shorty, take a ride with Ca If a nigga look wrong you gon′ let him have it Say, what′s your name? What kind of set you claim? I′m seven-fo′ now; tell me, do you bang? We ain′t ask about your mayne, cause he ain′t here with us And we both know that we about to fuck You see my limo tint, but they can′t see you bitch Go and pull out my dick, and put your mouth on it If you don′t do it now, you′ll never get the chance If you ain′t puttin out bitch, make other plans I still keep my money in a rubber band with the pitchfork sealed up, on the other hand
[Chorus 2X: Ca] You see them niggaz runnin, you see my spinnin drum and You lookin at my face sayin that nigga a gangsta Always gettin blunted, and holdin stacks of hundreds And e′ry rider here know that nigga a gangsta
[Ca] Seen switchin lanes, off of sniffin ′caine And a sip of purp′, I′m hurtin on my drank I′ve been doin work, you know about my gang You want me you can find me wherever that you hang I got a bigger dick, plus I′m fly as shit You′ve seen me with your bitch, cause I got benefits I′m a militant, AWOL lyricist Your face menstruates when I clap-clap, period I snatch cakes off the, back of you wack nigga Shady Records in your mouth, take that nigga Em I never leave, forever got your back And e′ry soldier in my squad feel like that Gangsta disciple, you motherfuckers know You should′ve killed me, a long time ago I′m a regular ev-ery day psycho Hat to the right on sight wherever I go
[Chorus]
[Ca] I′ve been provin this, for a long time And e′ry line that I write, is all mine See me walkin a straight line in daytime But I spray nines right in front, of the one-times Livin life, in the California sunshine But I′m the only star out, in the nighttime Flagged up, knowin suckers ain′t gon′ like - I′m makin them turn they head straight boy just like mine Took the West over, I′m the real king You don′t believe me, fuck you, kill me I don′t fear none of y′all, meet a real G Come against me, pussy nigga you will see When you awake, and you still sleep You dead you lil′ pussy boy, feel me You said you was gon′ muh′fuckin kill me? But you bled, guess you ain′t that real, G Screech
[Chorus]
[Outro: Ca] That nigga a gangsta nigga You stupid ass niggaz don′t know what a spinnin drum is? That′s a 100-round shot clip, comin straight at you Your face, your back, your chest It don′t matter to me nigga, and that′s real I got guns nigga, I got money nigga I got riders, what the fuck you gon′ do to me? I got guns nigga, I got money nigga I got riders, what the fuck you gon′ do to me? Nuttin, Shady Records own, bogus boy Ca, King Mathers! It′s brought to you, by the great King Mathers I′m out, let′s go! {*echoes*}
My gangsta boy, I don′t care if you′re going to prison, I wouldn′t say I l-love you if I didn′t, I can cheat cause I know what I′m missin′ Boop, boop, woopty doo.
I won′t play cause I′m already winnin′ Kissing your lips, Hot-hot like I′m sinnin′ High school, loved you from the beginnin′, Boop, boop, woopty doo.
I want you, you, you, By my swimming pool, You, you, you, That would be so cool.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy, Cause you′re my favourite toy, You′re my favourite toy, Get you out, Get you wet, No, I′ll ever never stop.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, My gangsta boy.
I don′t care what my girls and my mama say about you, bad boy, I like the drama, We can ditch ′em all while you′re out, if you wanna, Boop, boop, woopty doo.
Like your leather and your long hair, honey, honey, You can bring your love and baby, I got the money, Love you baby boy, Like I never loved nobody, Boop, boop, woopty doo.
I want you, you, you, By my swimming pool, You, you, you, That would be so cool.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy, Cause you′re my favourite toy, You′re my favourite toy, Get you out, Get you wet, No, I′ll ever never stop.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, My gangsta boy.
Summer′s almost over, baby, Everybody thinks I′m crazy, I could have it all, But it means nothing without you,
Boy, I′ve been so lonely lately, I′ll never get tired of waiting, I could have the world, But it means nothing without you... You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy, Cause you′re my favourite toy, You′re my favourite toy, Get you out, Get you wet, No, I′ll ever never stop.
You′re my gangsta boy, You′re my gangsta boy.
Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, My gangsta boy, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, B-B-Boy, Oooh, My gangsta boy
Welcome back home parmi les miens, зa fait du bien homie la route est longue all alone aux quatre coins du monde j′ai rйpendu la nouvelle йxйcuter mes plan comme prйvu, plus rien n′est pareil tu devrais les voire comme des oufs partout oщ j′suis passй j′en ai vexй qulques uns qui savait pas trop ce qui se passait imprйssionnй par mes faзons de faire mais trop de jaloux pour les dire, ils veulent croiser le fer fuck them homie la vie est belle pour moi chaque fois qu′ils dissent mon nom c′est plus d′oseille pour moi and I dont′ give a shit so,let them puisses hate so I′m a baller, I′m a roller sur paradise XO this is for my homies, this is for my dirties this is for ly gangsters and my hustlers, one time I said
(refrain): this is a gangster party and how we do, we rock it like nobody nobody baby nobody baby this is a gangster party welcome back, it′s good to see you shorty
ain′t nothin′ like a gangster party baby et mes home boy sapй a la John gotti baby des big boss la classe est flashy baby it′s ugly, it′s getting nadty baby we will hurt you, on en a vu d′autres passer qui sonttombйsous les poings knock out punch like rocky boy fait tes priиres, bitch I′m too cocky la fidйlitй de ces gars me tienne a coeur, le respect c′set pas parce moi j′en suis sorti qu′eux doivent y rester a part la loi de la rue et de la protection, y a l′amitiй le coeur, on marche les coudes liйs this is for my homies, this is for my dirty this is for my gangster and my hustles, one time, I said