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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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3:59 |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
(chorus) Jenny Fujita:
Me, my crew, and a little tour show Learned to flip the door with the money we got The blocks stay hot, getting knocked, it's on So one by one, we were gone Subway sparks after dark Flash the message, something's out there (Wyclef: Yo, John, that was the eighties man This is ninety nine, there's crazy stuff out there) Flash the message, something's out there Wyclef: John Forte Uh, uh, hey Yo, John Forte John Forte: Yo, yo hustle big hustle small all ya'll relate to this I'ma culture power baby, when I run right through it What the biz, money, you know John and what it is Then again, too many yes men (Wyclef: yo, John they missed it) Hustle big, hustle small all ya'll relate to it I'ma culture power baby, when I slide right through it What the biz, money, you know John and what it is Then again, too many yes men inside the business We stay grungy Risks take on the streets like a bungee Hoes get nothing from me I'ma die feeling hungry Rappers to complacing I make hits in the basement Got all the men on top wondering where their place is If it's real, then it's real And it ain't no replacement Them jealous cats they talk need to all work adjacent I charcoal ya'll all into a image I molt So I can teach you how to walk, eat, tricks, and buy volt My shit is iz-ill Wear three condoms in Brazil Brothers from the vill know four after iz-ill You wanna know how we do, get real Now you fiz-eel You couldn't take me if you bought the chisel What's the diz-eal Eat four stars at every miz-eal You kiz-ill The vibe You right from the fwiz-ill And stiz-ill My flow riz-eal Leave you fiz-ill And leave ya'll all stuck like Jack without the Jiz-ill Jenny Fujita: Me, my crew, and a little tour show Learned to flip the door with the money we got The blocks stay hot, getting knocked, it's on So one by one, we were gone Subway sparks after dark Flash the message, something's out there (Wyclef: Suicide into suicide, parappa) Flash the message, something's out there John Forte: Shoot the gip at the strips spine Juggling peeps learn to keep their lips tight I don't kick it out I told ya'll before it's hot Fuck the floor I'm the boss when I rock the flip flops Culture hip hop before I take your head you should skip hop Or find us in your homes with the chrome and the shit's cop So where's that, hey ya'll hoes hard, but the rappart I leave them in the means, with their lips shut, but did what Yo money ease up, how you cease us You better saw feefin lightning trees up Smoking with your man fantasizing something swiftly But little did you know I had whole country with me (bridge) Wyclef: Little do you know, little do you know Little do you know, I got the whole country with me Little do you know, uh chorus bridge chorus Wyclef: Refugee Camp All-Stars Dirty cats C O Wyclef Jean Nuts baby, nuts baby John Forte Where you at, baby Come on, come on |
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4:34 |
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
[Forte': Spoken Words]
Recently, I was compelled to tell the tale of two men Not long ago, in a club in the dead of winter They'd come into conflict, over mistaken identities Brought forth, by the pursuit of a woman She ultimately became the scapegoat for an ego-maniacal environment There are two sides to every coin, as well as every story Balance, is a way of life...Be it for better, or worse.... [Chorus: Forte'] Right, Left North, South Two sides balance out Black, White Either or God Is Love, God Is War Right, Left North, South Two sides balance out Black,White Either or God Is Love, God Is War! [1st Verse: Forte'] In peace, live by the sword God Is love, God Is War Most cats out on the streets don't know what they're fighting for Buckwild, despite the law And nobody like to run Hit holders with shoulder chips up in the club Yo, that's the wrong man money And you rubbed his bitch And that man make money, have you seen his clique? Every member flying iron and their knights with it You feeling pressure, like a black where only whites can sit Well you ain't want a situation , but you've got one here... You don't want to see the bin, you've been out on year... How you trying to play it off up in this club if you dare to You walk beside the mix, and your mens ain't near you You want to holler names, knowing well that they won't hear you And this nigga here really got to learn to fear you You're feeling your conceal knowing that you've got to tear through In their room, Holding onto life like an heirloom! [Chorus x2: Forte'] [2nd Verse: Forte'] Hey yo my back is on the wall And I pray that god bless you I'm running out of patience, and you're blatant disrespectful My crew never played, we was babies getting paid Spots locked from Coney Island to the Brooklyn Promenade Took lives and stealing I.V.'s, very few niggas like me The Devil in your midst, and what you don't know could hurt you My squad terrorize everything outside their circle Shit! These mens are worse, and they all is thirst But it's more than just the woman, my respect comes first Man I, burst buffoons when I curse with coons If you survive, may your Mother come and nurse your wounds Only to, catch it again Rule one, no friends This club shit'll make you careless My burners leave you airless (Yeah) Seconds away from your last day (from your last day, seconds away Everyday, all day) [Chorus x2: Forte'] [3rd Verse: Forte'] Well, like my pops said, "you play, you gotta pay"(True-true) I dig your sham, but my man's on the real (But who you?) My sons put me on, and I heard of the name But you got 1 second left, out of 5 for fame Though outnumbered, I want it You the hunter, getting hunted By a younger predator, if you want it And son if it come down to the wire, and my mens ain't 'round We gonna do what we gotta, 'cause I can't back down It's too late now, expect you, when your man through A little verbal attitude, and I found that rude Now what to do? I know your crew, and each one got stripes But I'm young see, and one thing you not -- Hungry! It's either or, in the game from the door Lets see who'll be the first to find the floor! (That all!) [Chorus x4: Forte'] |
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2:26 |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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2:22 |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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4:25 |
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
(feat. Jeni Fujita, 20 Grand, Baracus)
[Forte': Speaking] The Madina Passage... Brooks Federation... John Forte', Jeni Fujita... [Jeni Fujita - Singing Chorus] This town is too small for all y'all Where the streets are meaner This one's for everybody! This one's for everybody! [Forte] Pikasoe meets Baracus! [20 Grand Pikasoe - Verse One] This world is messed up So I lay back, and smoke a yeshca (?) 'Til it burn my chest up, I'm stressed up From my toes, to my neck up It's all out, I seen niggas cook up In a small house, with the dogs out I know all about it, drugs, money, sex, even where the whores are routed Nothing's too small to doubt it The wolves feed upon us, so we walk the streets with honor Looking for heat that launches six shots and eat you harder [Baracus] We want acres of land, so we can plant our own weed crops 52 states, we want green gaze and tree spots We want the better life, the mo' better cheddar life I was a young thug when my momma threw me out Starvin' on the streets, the gods putting food in my mouth Taught me how to read and count Cook up coke, cut up dope and how to bag an ounce Me and my family coming to rob America blind, thugging since '89! [Chorus x1: Jeni Singing] [Verse Two: Forte'] Yours truly, El Capitan... I don't small talk, y'all all walk We turn half them cats up into dodgers, like the ballpark Five-O drop charges, Apply pressure the hardest, more than Japanese massages You need us, to roll mo' Cruise to homogenus You didn't list where you from, we Madinas You niggas speak on dough with no conception of what green is Momma Sheena's how homes get bought, vis-a-vis the Dow Jones Y'all rappers stuck on cow clones, like two tones We'll never match boss, at the cost, I'll fuck around and rip the patch off! My bitch's god-sent, my yacht-men, bigup to cassette At every soundset, I iron butts off, leaving the ground wet Y'all walking like you safe, you ain't outta town yet! It's for the inner-city block sitters, the glock spitters Niggas who used to pop - locks, and cops that wanna rock wit' us You wanna hear this like you dumb guys? Yo, hi! Most niggas is students to this, we alumni's! [Chorus x1: Jeni Singing] [Forte' ] Nikki gunz, meets Casino Red.... [Verse Three: St. Nikolas] Murderous, Brooklyn burglars, black rosary Known for making scott flees out of black hosery Do dirt, pull it over my face so you don't notice me Black Jesus, rockin' black cheeses Nikki Bonadon, grown scorpion Travel on, trying to go platinum, in Brook-lawn! Shook ones, can't hold guns, better hold your tongue And grab a hang of this hear, out for the C.R.E.A.M. this year So light your clip, filled with rose hips to smoke it! [Casino Red] On Madina streets, Casino Red, Casino The Dread Roc-A-Feds of Brook-Lawn Crooks run out of the dead, bloodshed Bloody red rags and dog tags, automags flossed by cats In this game, put shine up for grabs I'm talking showtime, Madenic rhyme, high-crime rates escalate So play for high stakes, chasin' money and guns it must be my fate So keep the ones where they're safe! [Chorus x1: Jeni Singing] [Forte'] El Harim, daddy goes.... [Verse Four: El Harim] Disobeying all stops, word to my pops Do dirt and blame it on cops Red dot, aiming on cops Throw a drop, with the beast eight Release eight They hang the traitor body at the east gate I'm now a legitimate suspect Studying e-straight He can't breathe proper, cuz he eat steak Shit can fuckin'-fuckin' blow a beast 'way Man rolls, come to blow up east state My voice, echo through the valley The tec flow, through the valley Boom and bam...Hear my voice echo through the valley! Rose raise dead, from New York to Cali. I know you never heard-a--undefined priest capable of murder Whodini stylesque, escape a murder Got twice on the cross, now I rock ice on the cross Escape the death plot, it wasn't Christ on the cross! [Chorus 2 x1/2 & Fade: Jeni Singing] |
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3:43 |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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4:09 |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
(feat. Jeni Fujita & 20 Grand Pikasoe)
[Forte': Speaking] Political science... The study of politics, mixed with science... Speak on it, baby... [Jeni Fujita: Singing Chorus] As I look in your eyes I see the sunrise I see the moonshine! [1st Verse: 20 Grand Pikasoe] I'm from the days of the Colt 45's and gang bangers Cocaine slangers who sliced doors, no time to cook up Them niggas like raw It's all about the dollar now, white powder now He owed us money so I watched my niggas tie him down The conflict is crucial, police is neutral in this battlefield Where the battles grill, like cattles grill for a platter mil I even watched little Darryl deal I love the ghetto, hate the ghetto Must've been a genius who helped make the ghetto So I sit back and taste the 'retto I got beef, how can you misplace my metal? It's a sob story, it's bad the way they robbed Tory Of course, must've been religious 'Cause they took a small tainin' across Wrong game to play, boss Every night's a bug out They shot up every corner where I hung out Some nights I cry to this Even though it's posi-flip (?) [Singing chorus: Jeni Fujita] It's like the sunrise Just like the moonshine! The rain stops, and your girl smiles...just for you (Yeah) For you don't know, the love I have for you! [2nd Verse: Forte'] Mommy, I keep my name on your brain like Missy With The Rain, I'm from the school of stolen sneakers Speakers and heavy chains, no lie To the knowlie, why? God see I , learned the ways of the street, degrees in Poly Sci Many days under heat It pays for sticking him Watch him beast on the lean, routine curriculum Black vans, maybe a TransAm, exams get done Pop Quiz, figure out them niggas who hit son God give, God take away And it's easy to see Spell 'til, the lord kill indiscriminately We infinitely excel, keep the fans compelled The bigger picture, watch the ones who're wit' ya I clean the pie, and seen 'em die Travel life more than once Maybe, me and I...had been greeted by, so many conceded eyes That'd be wise, when I met too many girls around the world And delete the lies [Singing Chorus: Jeni Fujita] It's like my music, a new tune you never heard Hear, your heart beat The bass hits! And you feel it It's real it's not a sample! I saw you playing my piano! Unh-Huh! [3rd Verse: Forte] Now I, rock jew-els now and then A little lights - n - platinum A little beef on the street, no harm in clappin' them Savage nations, ghetto life no ramifications Dead debating, keeping every crackhead basing My auntie steady saying that we wasting, money I like tasting, the finer things in life, like a mason Police, plague - hatin' Everything that the court own Brownsville would pry, classified as a warzone The Brook god, so trife Originale low-life To sport it, boost it, the ghetto can't afford it Trade it, sort it, stress, new port it No tags never ordered You broke it, you bought it A twenty five - to life, my little son-son caught it 'Til this day, we admit it, that we did it, he 'gon bid it Kept his mouth shut, and never shitted On who his murder flirted with death Like every team, aiight! You know the verdict! [Forte: Speaking] Want me to say it one more time Ma, is that what you want?... [Jeni: Singing] Say one more time! [Forte: Continues] For every city blocker, glock rocker Cats who get they weight off, for every kid who had a parent laid off No healthcare, had us co-dependents out on welfare Speak amongst yourself, 'cause in the streets, no one else care The powers that be, I see you knelt there Them jealous cats who slang crack, I'm glad to send you back, 'cause you dealt there We all wanna shine for basis, 'til we easy LG for GP, only the realest niggas meet me Conversing through the wee-wee hours of the morning, sleepy Always stay alert, 'cause the pain hurt too deeply Ain't nothing changed, I'm stuck on myself 'Cause you mundane You wonder while you're just gold? You're stuck on one plain Now we must hold, very fueled make it through the threshold I'm blessed though, the head distincts before I let go A major death toll It's all about the babies, fuck the best coast I keep my family eating, 'til I'm done breathing [Jeni Fujita: Singing Chorus] Hear, your heart beat! [Forte'] (- You heard?! .....Nutzbaby) The bass hits, and you feel it It's real, it's not a sample! I saw you playing my piano! Unh- Huh! All you had to do, was make a record! Yeah All you had to do, was make a record! Say one more time! All I want to do, is hold you! Forever, Forever and ever, if you need to lean on me! Don't run, I'm here for you, Just like the sunrise! Just like the moonshine! |
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| from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999) | |||||
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
(feat. Destruct, Fat Joe)
[Chorus: Forte'] They Got Me killin with them They Got Me sinnin' with them Smokin' drum, holdin' arms, bustin' guns with them They Got Me fearin' the pen, cuz I don't want to go in It's going on-and-n-on-and-n-on- again! [Verse One: Forte'] Yo, Call my lawyer They ran up on me son, ain't nothin' for ya Two shots, my allabies, I'm with Joe and De La Hoya Fight on, ran up in the crib and turned the lights on Yo get this, Mothafucka! I don't leave no witness Like Larry Fishburne, I'll meet in Hawthorne, pushin' lefts With no signal light on, yo word bond, I know the shit's on! Called Don Cartagena from the Pilan Yo be war, lawyers and attorneys trying to hurt me Indeed I, feel stressed Clutched my shorty's chest smokin' C.I.'s Truth or die, shoot the five, uncivilized to B.Y.'s Muffled lives, like a pit bull at will Sit still, or you're shook real, y'all niggas need to get real, or get killed! The 4-fifth, call the men still, alcohol's never distilled A hundred proof vest, bulletproof! [Chorus x2: Forte] [Verse Two: Fat Joe] Ungh, yeah yeah... I live a plush life Nothin' on my wrist, crushed ice Bumpin' the heist, in the GS with the bug lights Just us guys, tough guys, the puff lye Cut up pies from night, 'til the sunrise If one of us dies, his fam gets a share Every man's treated fair, no one's getting his hand kissed in the chair We all shine as individuals, ex-criminals, we trained to not hate you for the Residuals Now his interludes, reflecting how we was reppin' Snappin' necks-n-Charging the mob for our protection I'm still rejecting offers from half the forces A corner office, and ten percent of all extortions I'm still enforcing, but only when it's close to home Do it for Tony, he taught me how to hold my own But now I'm fully grown, and I got dreams of my own My whole team on the throne, living like kings out of Rome...It's on! [Chorus x2: Forte'] [Verse 3: Fat Joe] Ungh...Yeah..Yo.... For the right price I'll put any rapper on ice Over three gods, Terror Squad'll cough 'em up real nice Send him to Christ, taking his life's not a problem I've been robbin' niggas and pullin' triggas way before my album Drownding my sorrows with bottles of Moe Anybody can go, lose your control, end up a John Doe You didn't know, my shit is game tight The insane type to bust open your brain with a drainpipe It ain't right, but I don't give a - UNGHH! Me and Punisher contemplate your death, like the governer My red dot that make ya head hot, disgusting wet spot Blood gushing down your bumbleclot dreadlocks! [Forte'] Ayo Joe! We suffocating with the headlock Let's fly the kite to his Ma You leave the key inside the breadbox I hold the toaster, Fugee-Camou coats and penny loafers Glass table meetings with Dons, I'm nice wit' mine No time to be fair, I build in this square I'm holdin' it there, my corporation's like a million in share The gat push weak niggas back, from Brownsville to Flatbush 9- double 1 dialing shorty wildin' She tryin' to send the god up to the island Like the rest of my fam, the best of the damned The Beast, who locked the rest of my mens Lease a tenant, four pounds are fingerprinted Louisville's aluminum invented, some dumb scent it and peppermint it! [Chorus x2: Forte'] [Verse Four: Destruct] We're just thugs for life Bustin' slugs for life Forte', Brownsville, Gun tec unite Fat Joe, BX you know the shit stay tight Cap's casings, blast faces, and do what you like! Cap's casings, blast faces, and do what you like! My son drive a bust guns, though the shit ain't right We're just thugs for life, bustin' slugs for life Forte'! Brownsville! Gun tec, unite! Brownsville! BX! [Repeat & Fade out] Forte' ! |
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from John Forte - Poly Sci (1999)
(feat. 20 Grand, DMX)
[Forte & DMX Growling] [Chorus: Forte' & DMX] [Forte'] You wanna bust guns? (You wanna lock fists?) - DMX in parentheses [Forte] Forte' ! (DMX!) [Forte'] Be the hottest! [Forte' & DMX] We Got This!!! (You ain't hear?!!!!) [Forte'] We Got This! ( Nigga! You ain't hear?!!!) [Forte'] We Got This! [Forte' & DMX] Straight up! We locked it!!! [Forte': Verse One] Associated with the razor blade spinners like gym stars And heavy hitters, Them younger gods love banana clips, broads that strip Candle wax, brown Beamers to whip And jerk a bitch, known to hit ya, for taking pictures! Thirty two shots to split ya! It's all about the cash when I'm fuckin' wit' ya! John could make ya richer! Fuck the Prince of Bel-Air! I'm known to sell heir, got game like a politician Whose trying to add on, when it's not addition You need to revamp! The hottest nigga out the Refugee Camp! Run up on you B, and leave your seat damp! And sell stocks slow, sellin' high, by low From Madina up to Y.O. El Capitan John, micapo Get tore down, and that's the way it go down! The east is like the wild west without the showdown! Them niggas be like, "what now?!" Get cut down! From the gut down! Intense heh? And leave you shut down! You knocked out! Regardless, what round! WHAT NOW?!! [Dmx] Unghh!!! My nigga said it!! Niggas'll get it! That's the rule! I'm 'bout to break money off - a - li'l somethin', pass the food! Cuz when I'm drunk! I'm a different nigga! And all you gonna see is a spark, ain't no whiffin' nigga! I figure like this...It's just me against the world! Cuz all my fuckin' life, it's been the world against Earl! What you think I'm-a do...when my back's against the wall!!? Fuck it! get ROLLED! Roll 'til I fall! X'll Kill 'em all!!! That's what they say to me now! You vermon nigga! In a time where it's okay to be foul!! And you lovin' it! It's got John Blaze! Just duckin' it! And this track won't rest, unless X'll put the slug in it! But, would it fit?! Nah, don't even think like that! This is some shit that I could let go, and bring right back! It's like crack, if you cook it, overlook it, so I shook it!!! Like a pit, what you get, is what you wit' me so I took it! [Chorus x2] [Verse Two: 20 Grand Pikasoe] This track'll make me zone out! Run up in the party with the chrome out! Clear Jerome out, no doubt! Ice jingling, sons mingling, drugs we bring it in! Pikasoe baby! Gotta get this money baby! 50's and 100's baby! My whole crew be sonnin' you What you gonna talk about wit' a gun in front of you?! Niggas grimy wit' it, slimy wit' it! [Forte'] Put in the card baby, you gone Too many hard rappers live for cunan You knew John was too on Me and DMX, whether change your suit on Walk dogs, word to god bound to live large and get charged, WHAT!? [DMX] Unghh! Unghh! If you my dog, YOU CREEP WHEN I CREEP! EAT WHEN I EAT! SLEEP WHEN I SLEEP! For real, SHIT IS DEEP! And what you don't know, will kill you! From X, to Forte' niggas will feel you!! [Forte'] I'm roundin' mine more And very few can nine hold The kick's too strong, y'all niggas do songs, we live on! Dough to sit on! I'm down to shit on! Watch y'all talkin' mothafuckas keep walkin' watch the dogs barkin'! [DMX] Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! I set the clock! Clip the glock! Hit the block! Rip the rock! In the sock! Get the knot! This shit is hot! Can't deny it, you mothafuckas since you know how it go, don't try it! [Chorus x3] |
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| from Warning : Minds Of Raging Empires...a Tribute To Queensryche [omnibus] (2001) | |||||
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from Princess Superstar - Last of the Great 20th Century Composers (2005)
(feat. John Forte)
Princess Superstar's year to make a million Women and men scream and cry through the millennium All up in 'em comin off like Deep impact in your drawers because This hoochie mommy's booty Makes Donald Trump look poor Like Dionne Warwick I'll predict your future trick super kicks You will listen to this Buy this, 95 cents a damn minute Admit it, when you were on monkey bars You thought there'd be candy bars, Marquee stars Emblazoned up with your name in it Maybe you need to shoot me into outer space Cuz I don't belong here Not in this place not in this atmosphere You can take your Palm air Range Rover Bitch Plastic tit politics And pay it in ducats to the Corrupt Conglomerate Fuck it! I Don't need to party like it's 1999 Cuz by that time, the next day at 9:00 That kid'll be working for me bright and early Waxin for me, Filin taxes for me-- suckin dick for me What did you dream, what did you dream you'd be? Are you where you wanna be? 2G, Kick it off I was gonna be a scientist with more dough Marilyn Monroe to kids mansion & hi rise co condo mondo Fresh pond in the backyard High gates and attack guard Now look on my card (what's it say?) Bitch in charge of shit at my big dick day job I got more leg than any legacy to leave But I got my head, and peeps and me got plenty Hennessy to pee Please call Nasa bring my ass back to your planet See I am something I never thought, never even dreamed I'd be Princess Superstar And at 2G When ya gonna be what you wanna be When ya gonna be what you really want to be? What did you dream, what did you dream you'd be? Are you where you wanna be? 2G, Kick it off (You'll have to ask John Forte the dope shit he kicked next!) |
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| from Wyclef Jean - Playlist: The Very Best Of Wyclef Jean (2014) | |||||
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