Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:39 | ||||
YoyoyoyoyoYO! Yo
Is the niggaz ready for this son? Niggaz ain't ready for this ock One two whatcha wanna do (I'm gonna give it to em anyway though man) Peep the Inspectah Deck (You know they ain't ready for it) Lyrical threat Representing Wu-Tang Slang, ninety-five Hittin it live You know what time it is Blessed with the art rhymes that's sharp like a circular saw Hit the floor like Dorf, who wants the war Then slide by my, lyrical driveby Chops rush, making black hearts bust, plus knifes they got When they rush, built like construction tools Crushing fools, in twos Forced dude to blast you out your fuckin shoes A South swap with the bombs I drop Plan A to terrorize you can't stop the plot Execution of an amateur, who dared to challenge the Clansman, holding a sword like Excalibur Truth is my shield, show and prove I reveal Reality, a coldness the heart can feel Livin life where caps peel, and crack deals from nine to five But I survived in these hard times I nearly died Now I'm wanted by death I did escape Now it's thrown on a tape with those who can relate Still I wrap my face take a space in the staircase Hits takin place, yo God, watch the Jakes Out of state court dates, chase me with the warrants For my insurance, switched names to Michael Lawrence The Rebel, stomps through the slums I'm from Coming through with nuff niggaz, and nuff guns to bust son So read the article, lyrical assassin with the arsenal Potential witnesses are incapable Of testifying, I won't be frying in the chair Plus the case closed, I won't be ever shackled, and safe clothes I make foes, exasperates then, I make friends Cause today's friends, show theyselves as snakes in the end And if you fit the trend then Protect Ya Neck Shaolin, INS, Killa Hill Projects No one on this earth, can hold me No one on this earth, can fool me No one on this earth, can grip the mic Like, I, do, nigga You ever, feel, that you can Test me, you got to face the Clan and Never, return to the mic again There's no one in the world Let me at them! I blast off lyrics like a Magnum Forty-four caliber, bustin mad holes in my challenger Tongue in your throat is swiss cheese The wild freestyler, wild like Gene Wilder Wu-Tang killa bee aimed at your brain With my stinger, it stun your mind, when I bring ya Thirty-six chambers of anger, frustration For waiting, to let loose on the nation Far from commercial no need for no rehearsal Hit you from all angles then form a circle Go against the grain within close range When I Slam, like Onyx, come get some, that's a promise I'll represent, here's the evidence Science of mad murder plates I make sense My technique of speech is deep, like Leviathan Hittin up your block with rhymes, like a firing Shooting for the platinum, then bring it back to The same place I got the gat from, let me at them |
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2. |
| 3:56 | ||||
3. |
| 4:17 | ||||
4. |
| 4:35 | ||||
Evil lurks in the mind of mad men
I have to call Spice 1 to put in work [Spice 1] Yeah straight motherfuckin East Bay killa in the house Spice motherfuckin 1 [blam] That's how you do it! You just mobb up on a nigga and shoot him in his MOTHERFUCKIN HEAD And drag him out the car, and get your MOTHERFUCKIN mobb on Yeah.. motherfuckin G shit jumpin off tonight Motherfuckin fire, beotch!! Kill em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him Born II Die, BLAOW Kill em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him ?? ?? [Spice 1] My gat scream fire The bullet told me shoot that motherfucker he's a liar I talk to my 380 like a bitch on the stroll When niggaz try to dick me I haul off and let her hoe, KILL EM ALL! I can't be fucked in this game, I'ma psychopath My AK, told me to shove him up some niggaz ass I'm havin long conversations with Mr. Millimeter He's one of my best friends, bitch-ass nigga eater And Missus Mossberg, livin up in that back trunk You know that old school bitch, she like to get in funk It's splittin motherfuckers by the seams My grandaddy Mr. AR-15 Said he was my only family Shoot straight, and please don't jam me My own Glock pistol-whipped me in my fuckin head Cause he said, I wouldn't buy the infrared Got in a fight at a club, my gat started walkin Told me to shut the fuck up and let him do the talkin I woke up, and it was sick to see them guts From my strap tell me Spice motherfucker, you're Born II Die One to the chest and one to the dome Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone (Born II Die) Aim yo best for the head so yo' brains get blown Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone Kill em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him Born II Die, BLAOW Kill em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him ?? ?? [Spice 1] Legal Glocks and Barettas and the Uzi thangs And if the shit jump off I'm killin everythang Don't be actin like no bitch when the funk is on Cause if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone One for the Glock, two for the clip Bullets in yo' ass make you hop and skip Niggaz who ride, strap on the side Open up your chest bout THIS fuckin wide This ain't no TV, you don't wanna see me I split your cranium so motherfuckin easy Leavin you bloody dead and shot My Glock goosed up your body like the motherfuckin dreadlock So get yo' ass home 'fore you catch some slugs Brain runnin down the drain like the L.A. floods Don't be fuckin with the S-P-I I'm tellin you motherfuckers I was Born II Die One to the chest and one to the dome Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone (Born II Die) Aim yo best for the head so yo' brains get blown Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone Kill em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him Born II Die, BLAOW Kill em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him [??] [??] [Spice 1] One-eighty-seven Crew ass nigga from the Bay AK spray, beat your dead body as it lay On the concrete die in one beat of the heart Seven day old ass body smell a little tart Pull up to your bumper with a fully loaded magazine Robbin your motherfuckin ass clean Blow the heart out a motherfucker back Nigga shit on hisself, when I pull out my strap Got a chrome fo'-five, bout nine in the clip In two ?? days, begin to mobb and dip It's just another tale of some gangsta shit Where niggaz murder in the first from a verse that spit Bitch-ass niggaz, expire, retire Stab him in the throat with the Dayton spoke wire So don't get caught up in the mix I, let you motherfuckers know quick, I'm Born II Die One to the chest and one to the dome Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone (Born II Die) Aim yo best for the head so yo' brains get blown Well if them niggaz catch you slippin then yo' ass is gone Kill em off like dis, biddy-bah-bah-bye-bye S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him Born II Die, BLAOW Kill em off like dat, biddy-bah-bah-bah-bang S-P-I-C-E-1 dem say him [??] [??] [Spice 1] Yeah nigga Straight walkin up on a motherfucker And takin his shit with a AK-47 nigga Get yo' shit cause it's on Tell you hoe you gon' be back Uhh, nigga gon' give up his shit Or he gon' catch a motherfuckin slug Yeah, you gon' catch a motherfuckin slug Uhh.. Spice 1 in the motherfuckin house Straight killin em all, BLAOW! Hehehahahahahahahahah Hahahahahahahahahahaha Ahahahahahahahaha!! Motherfuckers! |
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5. |
| 4:10 | ||||
Intro: Ol Dirty Bastard
Sup? Let's go. (Yo Snoop Dogg! Yo Dre! Yo Too $hort! E-40, and the motherfucking Click!) Nuff respect to the West coast. (Duhhn duhhn duhhn) Yo, Ol Dirty Bastard coming through Know what I'm saying? I got the East coast locked the FUCK down Hear my SHIT, nigga! (Dirty dirty dirty, Brooklyn!) Verse One: 12 O'Clock Shit is crazy real in the field I watched niggaz blood get spilled over five dollar bills And major drug deals on the real See a nigga get meals and his bitch get him killed In this American dream to get some cream You're ownin a Beem, and your face in magazines 12 O'Clock maintains in the game Bring the Pain to smokin Method, main It's not all about the fame, silly ass dames Get a gold record and you change And for the niggaz sellin cocaine, you're too blame Black people lives ain't the same And that's the Tale in my Hood Niggaz is up to no good, you better watch em in them hoods Verse Two: Ol Dirty Bastard I always thought livin life was easy Go to school, get a job, yo it couldn't be me So instead, I played my bed My momma got fed, and now a nigga livin with a dread My best fuckin friend, knew him since ten Nigga feed me CREAM, let me whip the Benz Houses all over Texas, lightning gold Lexus He had enough respect to dress this Expensive Tim suits, girl wearin fly Gucci boots Put me on like POOK! Every morning that I awake Ten G's in my fuckin face, combination to the safe! Son run the state, carrying coke by the weight Nigga put pounds in the weed gate And it's ran by Ol Dirty 12 O'Clock, my little brother, he keeps it dirty Dirty (Fuck all that motherfucking drug selling shit I wanna see some motherfucking lyrics I wanna hear some motherfucking lyrics What up nigga, what?) Hahahahahahahahahahaha I got you nigga Verse Three: 12 O'Clock, Ol Dirty Bastard I'll rip mics on site you know the type New Jack, this is my City like Wesley Snipes Go fly a kite or somethin, make some muffins I come up bad in the town like Charles Bronson Now set your speaker and I'll do you for that reason 12 is no joke I bring wreck through the seasons Solomon, contend, many more but just when That Joker act you can save for Jack Nicholson One two and three, through your rap fatigue In the MC world, is a minor league What you speak, you swear it's unique It's just a peek, physique, of an old antique Don't expect a project, then it's bound to freeze Your whole head is stuck and stiff Next Siamese, I never liked rhymes That's incomplete, then again obsolete I shall repeat, there's an Easy Street For niggaz who earned, then learn your sojourn Then you return, as an intelligent, positive, messanger Not an experiment negative Lucifer With a tittling gloss of crafted skin Nothing like spring sauce, of the true origin Who would score, the wizard of war Came in best man was a god damn dinosaur No more jungle-like living, from the Blue Lagoon It's not an Animal House, National loon Lampoon If you understand the what when Why how, are you fellas who exempt or to disallow, a fresh MC, that will knock you down I gets dizzy spellbound like a merry-go-round While I'm freaking, shall I expose You take a subject, and then you decompose |
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6. |
| 5:13 | ||||
7. |
| 4:19 | ||||
8. |
| 4:26 | ||||
9. |
| 3:47 | ||||
Intro:
Yeahhh This is a story That there are deep, situations, everybody go through in life (It's something that we go through) You know, it's that inside part of you that you don't tell nobody about YaknowhatI'msayin? From that inside, that dark space inside you (It's something that we go through) From that darker, that inner side of you It's from the dark side Verse One: Fruitkwan/Gate Keeper Blaow blaow! No more knocks at your doors It's just about to explode, hit the floorrrrrrrr I come from a triple blood-shedding Spreading, my heading, straight from Armageddeon It's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide Once you get slapped by the dark side I was attacked, not clever to react Small as a peep, I was deep in solar facts My escapade level swelled Threw up, fell I grew up, five blocks from Hell I'm used to seeing the grass grow black Medaling pushing pedaling kids that pushed cracks Murderers leavin they traces Ya wasted, permitted destroying the human races Fuckit I'm bringin ruckus To brothers an APB out on the next Fredrick Douglass I'm sort of a saint, you think I ain't With skills to paint, with my third eye You're tranked... ...from the dark side Interlude: Prince Rakeem/Ryzarector We expressing feelings, we expressing our dark feelings So my feelings may be deeper than his or his feelings may be deeper than mines But it's all in the expressing of a feeling (from the dark side) Chorus: Too Poetic/Grym Reaper You, are dumb, and deaf, and blind You, are dumb, and deaf, and blind You, are dumb, and deaf, and blind You're dumb AND deaf AND blind Verse Two: Too Poetic/Grym Reaper In a time when every preacher large and small shall fool them Using Revelations, as my crystal ball I see more hordes of warlords who so hard they forgot the graveyard TERRAIN, scar tissues of BRAINS Be all illuminating soon the Illuminati platoons of Satan lay waitin to slay men Save your, amens, awaken The reason that Grym is God I escape through your synagogues And gave the EGYPTIANS, ancient INSCRIPTIONS Leaks into CHRISTIANS, turn all the facts into fictions Here comes the Reaper with the shot to your system I chop religions that concoct the vision Feel the incision of the sword that's piercing your third eye Coming straight from the dark side ...from the dark side Chorus Gravediggaz... ...in the dark side Coming to take you... ...from the dark side back to the light ...from the dark side you're in the dark side (yeah) we're in the dark side you're in the dark side we're in the dark side you're in the dark side they're in the dark side we're all in the dark side You're dumb and deaf and blind (it's something that we goin through) (from the dark side) You're dumb and deaf and blind You're dumb and deaf and blind in the dark side Yeah, Gravediggaz |
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10. |
| 4:24 | ||||
11. |
| 4:35 | ||||
12. |
| 5:37 | ||||