Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 1:23 | ||||
2. |
| 3:25 | ||||
[Fredro Starr] The game is fucked up, ya niggas got me tired of rap Right now I'm not inspired by rap Ya niggas ain't Dyin 4 Rap, talkin bout iron for clap Ya niggas never fired a gat Never took it the streets, and supplied it wit packs I had feds in my house, trynna wire my cat In the wall, little cameras hidin in cracks Niggas talk about drug money, what cats you flip On the trains tellin bitches that you crashed ya whip You never seen cop killers wit the plastic grips Turn beef to some funky closed casket shit Blast a fifth, 16 shots, niggas ran 16 blocks 16 niggas drop, ya niggas never seein the plot Never put greens on top, never put fiends on lock My elite niggas scream on cops, hustle dope Roll up, puff up smoke, parolin decode Standin on them corners wit them guns in they coats Had them same little muthafuckas under ya bed Gun to ya head, wake up, wanted ya dead End of the night, take ya light, I'm gettin ya back I'm twistin you back, cuz what ya niggas spittin on tracks'll Get you 16 or 8, gun cap, leave it at that Cuz ya niggas ain't Dyin 4 Rap [Chorus 2X] See, I'm what defines the streets The one that bitches dyin to meet The one ya thugs tryin to be Since I started, I can't count how many sound like me But can't none of ya niggas get down like me Can't none of ya niggas get down like me Can't none of ya niggas get down like me [Fredro Starr] Fuck this rap shit, fuck the rhyme of the year I'm about to get away wit the crime of the year Bought a black dress that's for ya momma to wear Got bitch niggas run when the drama appear Streets ain't safe, six shots, tear ya face Fuck the jake, get caught, clear the case My ups |
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3. |
| 4:37 | ||||
(*puffin in background*)
Yo what up son? Yea happy new years man,you too Yea but its crazy cold out here right about now man Yea I'm jus chillin in the coupe, k'nawm sayin? Windows up, drivin through the city, smokin an L for dolo You know how we do This shit I be thinkin about is crazy son What if Notorious was here? What if he was around? would all these niggas claim to be king? Who would wear the crown? Yo, what if 'Pac was still thuggin? What if he was alive? Would all these niggas still be screamin out "ride or die"! What if Milli Vanilli's record never skipped on stage? They'd be the illest con niggas in the game today Yo, what if Jordan never had Scottie? What if Sammie never ratted Gotti? What if New York without Giuliani? What if Mike Tyson fought Ali in his prime? What if Will Smith got gangsta, and start cursin rhymes? What if Erick never met Parrish? think they'd be makin dollas? What if they neva made candy paint for Impalas? my down south niggas'll wil' out,word up my west coast niggas'll wil' out,word up What if computers shut down for the Y2K? What if N.W.A never had Dre? What if Eminem was black? Would he have sold five mill'? or would he be 1 out of 5 million rappers with no deal? What if you had to pay for air? a dollar a breath half the hood would fuckin pass out and choke to death What if hip hop was banned in 52 states? they'd give you 5 years a piece for wreckin cd's and tapes What if the world stopped? no more time,fuck a watch What if there's no laws no jails,and no more cops? shit is crazy shit I be thinkin about yo, it's just questions that I ask myself when I analyze the world when I'm by myself I think some bugged out shit when I'm by myself drinkin weed smokin hennessee all by myself questions,that I ask myself when I analyze the world when I'm by myself I think some bugged out shit when I'm by myself drinkin weed smokin hennessee all by myself its questions...that I ask myself shit is craaazy,shit I be |
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4. |
| 3:37 | ||||
5. |
| 3:23 | ||||
6. |
| 2:47 | ||||
7. |
| 3:35 | ||||
8. |
| 3:30 | ||||
9. |
| 4:08 | ||||
10. |
| 3:14 | ||||
11. |
| 3:53 | ||||
We them killas that you read about
Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about Aiyo, I roll wit the Gods and them, the stars and them Hundred thousand dollar dollar cars and them Firestar move deep like the mob and them America mafia dot com and them (Yo, dat be dem) The wild life, livin it up You get clapped for ya dough, instead of givin it up (Yo, dat be dem) Late nights, I-95 Coke in the rye, flashlights searchin the side (Yo, dat be dem) Shots howl, rollin wit kings Thirty ninth street, B.D.'s bringin me greed (Yo, dat be dem) Goin uptown, coppin a war Real shit, Dominicans wit they glocks at the door Word up We them killas that you read about Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about We them killas that you read about Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about Aiyo, the deans we don't fucks wit them, or rocks wit them Before I get locked, I'mma bust shots at them Broke bitches never trustin them, or lustin them Pushin the back pocks so I can bust in them (But, dat be dem) After-party, sexin wit chicks Ex-out in the mornin, still fuckin the bitch (But, dat be dem) Dice games 4,5,6 Well it's a drought, niggas holdin bout 4/5 bricks (But, dat be dem) The bartender hold me a gat Gettin bottle after bottle, gettin sent to the back (But, dat be dem) Riker's Island, H.T.M On the visit niggas, bringin weed taped to they Timbs Word up We them killas that you read about Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about We them killas that you read about Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about Wild life, killa Queens, ya runs wit them My dirty Brooklyn niggas, get one's wit them Ferrari drop behind the Rover, that's my dunns and them Rob who? what my niggas keep guns on them (Dat be dem) X-5, GBM Signal lights in the mirror, bitches next to them (Dat be dem) Glassware, cookin up drugs In the club lost, lookin for love (Dat be dem) A hundred fans, chasin them down Bitch niggas in the projects, hatin 'em now (Dat be dem) Takin holes, a coke and ya grow Buyin clothes, just to open they nose and open they codes We them killas that you read about Playin wit them toys, and pullin heaters out Keep talkin shit and we gon air it out Takin other people money is what we all about |
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12. |
| 3:46 | ||||
13. |
| 5:06 | ||||
14. |
| 1:20 | ||||
15. |
| 3:32 | ||||
Fredro Starr F/ Jill Scott - True Colors
I see you're true colors shinning through I see your true colors and that why I love you I see your (one for the ghetto) true colors shinning through (straight up) I see your true (I am make it out) colors and that's why I love you Yo father forgive we all trying to survive were we live I'd rather feed the homeless and take time talk to the kids Show them that life ain't no walk on the bridge Damn as hard it is when I be dreaming I be talking to Big In my hood it ain't no yellow brick road you hear the shots echo Sneakers hanging from a telephone poll In my ghetto there aint no rainbow or pots o gold But there was love from the family when times were cold I sit an analyze the world from my roof seen the hope in the eyes of the trouble youth A good killa kept a burner in his bubble goose a mother less child lost in these streets lose In the murder days these are rainy days my man got poped at an early age His college fund saved flipped into his grave they say the good die young were headed for them pearly gates I see you're true colors shinning through I see your true colors and that why I love you I see your true colors shinning through I see your true colors and that's why I love you Yo they say this love wasn't meant to be Two people from different worlds we wasn't be It must have been faith you were sent to me Will make it threw these hard times eventually The standard fight brought by faith not by sight We all the same color when u turn out the lights I take the sunshine with the pain Grab my Sara gone sad that when it rains No French kept the food on the window pain We all breath the same air so we all the same I am trapped in this ghetto maze trying to make it out If you don't know me don't judge me what you talking bout I am dividable by broken dreams Single moms you my heroes you my queens To get my mom out the hood that is my hopes and dreams to reach my son to be a solja by any means I see you're true colors shinning through I see your true colors and that why I love you I see your true colors shinning through I see your true colors and that's why I love you |