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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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3:51 | ||||
from Purfek Storm Mix Tape Vol. 1 (2010) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998)
I created verb noun ??? (The most beautifullest shit) I make up like foundation now who you facing? The waterproof emcee Ras blessed the mic faster than Ramadan in mach 3 Get off my dick nigga And tell your bitch to come here And stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (Yeah) Fa sheezy articulate drama Multiple lacerations between consecutive commas I like my ill nana wet, my martini dry Whippin' a BMW 540-I (drunk driving Miss Daisy) Devil in a blue dress packing heat While I'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street My middle east metaphors motivate religious wars Jah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect) Get it popping like Felicia and Amhad Rashad Keep my game face on like a Goat So stick yourself, Pretty Tony Chorus: You, you are, you conceited bastard (8x) Verse 2: (We still got some non-believers) So I'ma drop the bomb Like the one-armed wide reciever See we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone) Criminally insana, my brain do the Macarena Attack the varicose vanity who spin cancer Rhetorical question, a hypothetical answer Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure Speak my mind at my leisure Living singe with more hoes than Khadijah And when I'm bent, it's the circus without a tent Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent Give a chicken six cents for Gucci boots (Hell no!) I rather mop the floor at a peep show What part of "I'm the shit?" don't you understand? (Gooby bitch) Your favorite rapper is a Ras Kass fan So, how many dykes do I flip on the daily? Many money, just give me plenty Henny Remmy Chorus: 8x again Verse 3: (Well, that's true) Damn, skippy I put that on everything I love Like when Lucy was fucking Ricky Got more stripes than Adidas I'm cavy like fish fetus See money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs Too much perputrating, not enough lyricism Indo got you believing what your pen do Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do With a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can My man, understand, I got connections So much doe in my pocket, I give my girl a yeast infection I'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome Is you a playa from the Himalyas with Jerome-rome This one girl tried to Billy Jean me But I was wearing two rubbers So name that nigga, Whodini (laughing) Controversal reversal, this is my planet You just a Reebok commercial Chorus What, nigga, check, check, yeah Uh, huh, yeah, yeah This goes out to all the critics You can suck the didick Check this out for all the bitches to the radio Don't hate me though, you don't know me |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
I created verb noun ??? (The most beautifullest shit) I make up like foundation now who you facing? The waterproof emcee Ras blessed the mic faster than Ramadan in mach 3 Get off my dick nigga And tell your bitch to come here And stick your dick in your eardrum and fuck what you heard (Yeah) Fa sheezy articulate drama Multiple lacerations between consecutive commas I like my ill nana wet, my martini dry Whippin' a BMW 540-I (drunk driving Miss Daisy) Devil in a blue dress packing heat While I'm doing doughnuts in the middle of the street My middle east metaphors motivate religious wars Jah-hah (plus some other middle east dialect) Get it popping like Felicia and Amhad Rashad Keep my game face on like a Goat So stick yourself, Pretty Tony Chorus: You, you are, you conceited bastard (8x) Verse 2: (We still got some non-believers) So I'ma drop the bomb Like the one-armed wide reciever See we be off the hook like (busy signal from phone) Criminally insana, my brain do the Macarena Attack the varicose vanity who spin cancer Rhetorical question, a hypothetical answer Wouldn't swallow my tongue at a seizure Speak my mind at my leisure Living singe with more hoes than Khadijah And when I'm bent, it's the circus without a tent Clowning all baby-face ass niggas who love hoes and pay rent Give a chicken six cents for Gucci boots (Hell no!) I rather mop the floor at a peep show What part of "I'm the shit?" don't you understand? (Gooby bitch) Your favorite rapper is a Ras Kass fan So, how many dykes do I flip on the daily? Many money, just give me plenty Henny Remmy Chorus: 8x again Verse 3: (Well, that's true) Damn, skippy I put that on everything I love Like when Lucy was fucking Ricky Got more stripes than Adidas I'm cavy like fish fetus See money snit and bullshit out-run cheetahs Too much perputrating, not enough lyricism Indo got you believing what your pen do Faking pugilism, the evil you claim you and your man do With a gloc, when you least likely to red dot a 7-up can My man, understand, I got connections So much doe in my pocket, I give my girl a yeast infection I'm big-headed like babies with down syndrome Is you a playa from the Himalyas with Jerome-rome This one girl tried to Billy Jean me But I was wearing two rubbers So name that nigga, Whodini (laughing) Controversal reversal, this is my planet You just a Reebok commercial Chorus What, nigga, check, check, yeah Uh, huh, yeah, yeah This goes out to all the critics You can suck the didick Check this out for all the bitches to the radio Don't hate me though, you don't know me |
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from Venom - Ruff N Tuff (2018) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998)
(I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny Sippin' tanquery with o.j. Sportin' bruno mali Not guilty but filthy Smellin' like Chritstian Dior Infiniti QX4 gimme yours Of course sinnin Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women Love to love ya like Timbaland When in the endin Like three strikes in the ninth inning I rock satin boxers cotton socks and denim The game he kick, special teams couldn't return Got you wild like a texturizer Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats Who keep their hair and nails done And they legs waxed I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie Love a friend, my sentiments exactly Get at me chorus [Karida Johnson] I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow Baby, so you can get at me [Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story I got a man, but we can still be friends So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby Verse Two Some things make you happy just to be alive Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five In the pin with no spot I survive drama and then know when to lick shots Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch Never brought sand to the beach Cause these streets is baywatch (true) You know how we do Satin lingerie I see through Now she barely even kiss you Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo) Your chicken-head wife was poultry Undersexed and sultry That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air Her momma shoulda named her Casino She got the liquor in the front Poke her in the rear chorus Verse Three You know my steez though Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it Just without the Master P dough But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin Make no mistake You cant get a slice if you don't bake the cake To reverse trick My silly ex-bitch transport brick For twenty percent - commission She dressed up with no where to go While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe For show, at my girl party, flowin But I think she caught me like a nazi Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low Actin' straight Illuminati Don't get mad, I'm only being honest It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras) You promise Then freak me, slightly below the hips And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips Get at me chorus Get at me |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
(I reign) I reign more cop than Johnny Sippin' tanquery with o.j. Sportin' bruno mali Not guilty but filthy Smellin' like Chritstian Dior Infiniti QX4 gimme yours Of course sinnin Swimmin' in the abdomen of pretty women Love to love ya like Timbaland When in the endin Like three strikes in the ninth inning I rock satin boxers cotton socks and denim The game he kick, special teams couldn't return Got you wild like a texturizer Burn like the ultra-perm, toss it up like a geyser Sosa, kosher, nostra, like keyser And got a thing for rehabilitating hood-rats Who keep their hair and nails done And they legs waxed I peep that, you got a man, but you want a homie Love a friend, my sentiments exactly Get at me chorus [Karida Johnson] I like your style, can we kick it, oh wow Baby, so you can get at me [Ras Kass] I got no game, It's just the women Understand my story I got a man, but we can still be friends So you can get at me, baby, baby-bay, baby Verse Two Some things make you happy just to be alive Like seeing Toni Braxton naked on the cover of the vibe Drive, like hitting two-twenty-five In the pin with no spot I survive drama and then know when to lick shots Keep a top notch just a phone call away from my crotch Never brought sand to the beach Cause these streets is baywatch (true) You know how we do Satin lingerie I see through Now she barely even kiss you Leaving 1-7-7-1-5-4-0-0 on my pager (I miss you boo) Your chicken-head wife was poultry Undersexed and sultry That's the rhyme and reason why we committed adultery I swear, womens love from bel-air to welfare Chalkin' up these frequent flyer miles on Con-Air Her momma shoulda named her Casino She got the liquor in the front Poke her in the rear chorus Verse Three You know my steez though Dark skin and creole, I'm 'bout it Just without the Master P dough But see though, my tax bracket decent and increasin Make no mistake You cant get a slice if you don't bake the cake To reverse trick My silly ex-bitch transport brick For twenty percent - commission She dressed up with no where to go While I'm blowin up your dress like Marilyn Monroe For show, at my girl party, flowin But I think she caught me like a nazi Now I'm servin', she got me under surveilence Like John Gotti, now I'm signin' on the low Actin' straight Illuminati Don't get mad, I'm only being honest It's Clarence Thomas (fuck you Ras) You promise Then freak me, slightly below the hips And blow me a kiss with your pussy lips Get at me chorus Get at me |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
[Ice T] I got juice but I can't stop no ocean liner baby! [Ras] I'm down with you baby I'm there [Ice T] Man don't miss this it's gonna be FABULOUS ... [Ras] We ghetto fabulous baby The best food drink and women that money can buy Verse One: Ras Kass Every day of my life is off the ringer That's guaranteed like a fistfight on Jerry Springer I got the hottest flow to hit the street since lava so holla, we all hustle for dollar dollars From Sac to Houston, New Orleans to D.C. [girls laughing] to beep beep Bangin, catch me with a dimepiece next to me My Body all over Your Body like LSG Neighborhood celeb with the keys to my city like the mayor Rookies askin us how to be a playa Get in where you fit in, and never get your ghetto pass revoked No matter how much money you make Stay true to the game loc, guest list terror clothes in jeans and tennis shoes, breakin your strict dress codes Spit lyrical bricks, thirteen deep so I can be richer than Master P sellin _Ghetto D_ Chorus: Mack 10 Ghetto, fabulous Money make the world go round so let's handle this Ghetto, fabulous Broadcastin live from Los Angeles We ghetto, fabulous Money make the world go round so let's handle this Ghetto, fabulous Broadcastin live from Los Angeles Verse Two: Dr. Dre You ain't heard of me, you ain't listenin hard enough Started in Compton servin from a ice cream truck Now ten years later whippin a custom Navigator Steppin on your toes playa, stuffin up your alligators I'm ghetto, like Newport cigarettes, feel me Boom bap and slap that ass silly This is for the full time students slash part time strippers And young niggaz, clockin at least five figures Some of us pro atheletes, some of us rap over fat beats Some of us hustle in the streets Twenty deep in Club Nikki's so you know we gots to mingle [???] off a pocket full of singles, huh And it's all bueno, musical mafia like Frank Sinatra Pop a thirteen shot glock to make you Go See the Doctor Ain't nuttin nice From hood to hood, love livin the lavish life Chorus Verse Three: Ras Kass Nigga Stu-B-Doo in the GS, three ooh ooh Playin number two Tekken, zero to sixty in six point seven seconds *tires screech* hangin out the window actin up, chickenheads like "You doin fo' months!" Flexin the Rolex oyster perpetual, thirty-five diamonds across the face, still eatin out foam cups and paper plates We don't call it playa hatin in the nine-eight, it's P.I. That's pass intereference, automatic first down Want Juice like Tupac, then Obey Your Thirst clown Be in the PJ's in NY, rockin DK Mix EJ with OJ, OK, we say "L.A. niggaz got crazy came like John Elway got a superbowl ring" The homies down for whatever, we stack the chedda Swiss bank accounts, and mo' mozzarella fella Chorus |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
If you like what you see, make a movie Get ya grind on, playa haters, always lose It's about fun, gettin money, layin in the cut We everything you need, now what's up [Ras Kass] It's the nigga you love to hate, '98 Now how much cheese can one black nigga take Convertible Jag XK8 wit customized plates Playmates jumpin out my birthday cake See we be on one, so raise the roof Or we gon tear the club up, hosin daisy dukes I made you lose, orange juice mixed wit Indo I be doin my thug dizzo, that's for shizzo C Arson baby, born and raised Back in the Kay kays, when we was babies Now, I get around like a circle Squeezin on ya lady fat ass like a girdle Latino cute, she was built somethin fierce 21, had a tongue and a bellybutton pierced Playa, I think your wifey wanna politely bite me Play Marv Albert, but that hurt boo, blow lightly [Chorus: Ras Kass (Bad Azz)] And all the ladies say (Get your grind on, just get your grind on) And all the hustlers say (Get your grind on, just get your grind on) And everybody say (Get your grind on, just get your grind on) And all the niggas say (Get your grind on, just get your grind on) [Ras Kass] Let's take you back to the basics I smack a rapper's ass like a dominatrix Life is cruel, faces and misdemeanor cases More chedda, the more better Family trunk tight, wit my grandma dressin all you chickens on fight night I'm flossin in Vegas, like dream come true Whippin a '98 cream, V1-2 Of course, you be seein me in one two Or me, three, lazer cut key boo, one on Peach Tree One on Crenshaw, one on one-two fifth Walkin in a B-Boy stance, holdin my dick I'm sick, flippin |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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2:44 | ||||
from Ras Kass - He Say She Say [single] (2010) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
Intro:
What? Nigga, You got problems? Nigga you don't want no problems with me, shit Nigga you ain't got enough calcium to have a bone to pick (coward) You little bitch ass nigga, niggas be hovering niggas be bothering you I aun't fuckin' with y'all, I ain't fuckin with you I guess I got a bad attitude Verse 1: I spit slick shit like K-Y Jelly Out for the mail like Melly I'm fucking you tonight before Kelly My bitches dance with there belly And fuck me with there eyes See crime is where they organize In the land of the blind the one eyed is genie A male chauvinist keep them barefoot in a two piece bikini Need a bulletproof beenie when niggas got five minutes of funk make them disappear like Houdini or who-done-it a Whoridah Got old folks scared just to go outside on there front porch And all this bullshit is going on in church of course (but but but but but wait it gets worse!) I could still instill a semi-automatic verse And draw blood like a nurse Correspond like ???? ???? and on the mic I bomb like nuclear fission Alphabetic mathematician your prerogative is my decision My litigation gives me a reputation for giving niggas no get back like black reparations You're doing too much 'cause I'm going to be rich nigga I put that on my two nuts Chorus: I ain't fuckin' with you You're not to be fucked with (Big nigga I though you knew) Cause we find this niggas mood is rude But I know the Cause of your shitty attitude Verse 2: Now whenever I'm fed up we can go head up My ex bitch called me a dog so I piss with one leg up straight up and down three hundred and sixty-five rounds one in the chamber for leap year keep clear-ac |
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from Mr.dog - NW Ridin (2001) | |||||
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3:53 | ||||
from Ski Beatz - 24 Hour Karate School [Explicit Version] (2010) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
Ay how come you wont gimme no pussy tonite? Aight well shake the spot then, you think you special I hear your car keys jinglin, get the fuck out El Drex what you wanna do, Shai dog what you wanna do? Kurupt what the fuck you wanna do? Nigga is you a rider nigga? Is life fucked up [Kurupt] They let the gangstas in this muthafucka Ice Age [Ras Kass] I ride for my homeboys (2X) Nigga its all about the money Its all about the chips Lets get rich, what? what [Kurupt] With my new Tiny Tim, try again Up against the full wind, I'm an alien beast Generate, penetrate, bust shots Then fled, quick sick in the head Rippin motherfuckers to shreds Facsimilies, dont know, friend or foe Elusive nigga this exclusive, conclusive evidence Your vision is short range Rearranged, restructured, recomposed and decomposed Disassembled, dismembered, reconstructed, polished Perfected, demolished rejected, fo sho Like I'm supposed to know this nigga I aint neva seen him before - my life Bitch ass nigga, who tha fuck you supposed to be? [Hook:] Cuz niggaz I grew up wit threw up shit On sum I don't give a fuck shit Makin enemies duck shit I'm on some make a million bucks quick Money gone! Quick get a duck sick trick Not the one to fuck wit My dyke bitch pimpin on some Nike Flight shit Ludicrous iron mic shit..stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick Tha Ice age!..Ice Age (2X) Stab yo cold heart wit a ice pick [Ras Kass] Now Ben must be either pampered or crushed To regulate, relegate and delegate power Nigga touch sumtin, touch no one and die slower You drain your battery you barely talkin like |
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
You want to talk to God? God never sleeps. Chorus Ras Kass: Now what came first the chicken or the egg? God: Armageddon. Ras Kass: A arm a leg a leg a arm a head. Headin in your direction. The riddle was the answer to the question. Born of the flesh what is perfection Ras Kass: Inside my mother's womb doomed to return to the tomb. Or was it from the dead I was raised? All too soon to pay, on judgement day, Is this beginning or the ending, Died sinning, still winning, still grinning. This ending, verdict still pending, born pretending, Three-hundred billion men, women, and children. Deja vu, could be I'm dreaming, But we all ask for divine reason, While still breathing, and until leaving. Who?, What?, When? Where?, How? But most of all why? God: Why what? Ras Kass: Do we live just to die? God: The Book of Haden. Way before the after God pitting heads. No God for me, mathematically, in division. My decision was all inventions. I need not mention infinite dementions. But the human mind's flaw was limited comprehension. So while you try to travle to Mars and the stars, The God manifests through the entire universe. >From the Sun, Moon, the Earth. I created man in my image and the black man was first. The scientific explanation, yea I made man out of dirt. Ras Kass: But how can a man be first, when its the woman that's giving birth? God: Listen, single-celled organisms. The homosapien, the albanein Ras Kass: What's that? God: White people. Ras Kass: They keep the world seperate and unequal. God: The teach you, right is wrong, wrong is right. Up is down. Teaches King Arthur's throne, is the planets that are round Ras Kass: Can we really time travel, and is there life in outer space? God: Wait, you knew all this in the first place. You tryin to get to God. Ras Kass: But, I've fallen from your grace. A billion paths to take, but which one is truly straight? Chorus Ras Kass: Can you walk across water or rise from the dead? I heard he said he lived, and the son of man bled. God: Its a process, shit dont just happen, I create it. Everything you see, and shit you dont, son I made it, and waited. I'm the big bang theory and evolution. Been there, done that, from revolution to prostitution. The first and final solution. The quaran, bible, and vedas, is only tools, dont be confused when the medula oblagada do Ras Kass: Oh, so revelations is Genesis. God: Three-sixty degrees are limitless. Satan: Shit, my motherfuckin nemesis. Ras Kass: Who is you? Satan: Son, I thought you knew. Who else? Lucifer, the lie bearer stupid, the devil himself. He the creator, we all the creations, guess i'm eternal damnation. Got you bitches seaking your own salvation. Who taught you how to pray? You read it in the book, look, your bear witness to Amen Ray. Every day when you say Amen, and then turn around and preach worshipin false Gods, Is an unforgettable sin. Yea the good book is like comic books, You take 'em too literal, I tricked you in to believin' the power to reason, Makes you able to live infinitely, in the physical. Guess I'm the pawn com lyrical. Basically I tell true lies in general, the yin and the yang The player with a trillion years of game. God: He got you sellin your spiritual, for power, monery, and fame, I came out of tripple stage darkness, gave mortals my attributes. But even you may be a mystery God like the lockhead, A used sign to prove or disprove my existence. Tryin to align this, artificial intelligence, cloned in a space station, Tryin to build the tower of babylon. But you savages stake me, when I start erasin homosapiens. You lookin for an angel with wings, I'm 'a bring young niggas with a ak, fuck a alien. Ras Kass: So what you sayin is, you the one that created sin. God: What you call mother nature, was the nature of me. What you call evil, ultimately, was the force inside of me. Matter cant be created or destroyed it just changes shape. One God, many people, and many faith. And this is how I wanted to do 'em. Ras Kass: Wait, wait, hold up. Father tell me, who is God's son? Chorus<X2> God: I be the Jesus to your Buddah, the Chrishna at your Junah, The big kahauna, Jehova Witnesses, suede pumas. Zuese, Pharoah, Elohim, Saturn, Yaweh Jiah, Arastifa Rah, Allah, the most powerful. But then, only Adam and I. I'm the oceans, the trees, a bumble bee, and a glock. Earthquakes, how much money you ever take. The reason behind every mistake mankind continually makes. Ras Kass: Did God create man, or did man need to create God? Satan: The answer is both, cause how mortals look at God is odd. God: You try to customize me to be comfortable. For what you want to do, and how you choose to act. The Roman Christians will tell you God aint black. But to get something from nothing is physically impossible, thats a fact. Satan: Black is the combination of all colors Ras Kass: White is the lack thereof. God: Darkness is beneath the ground, and in the skies up above. The clue, is that the true illumination is me, not illuminati. Cause I alone discriminate, Any who be believing they can rationalize our out reason me. Who created your creature, sutdent can never be greater than the teacher. Wether its Adam and Eve, or atomic chemistry. I'm the one true source of all energy. Who will evantually destroy every enemy when I see fit. I cant blaspheme my own name so when Goddamnit, so be it. Satan: Thats called the wrath of God, but we gotta deal, I can chill Fuck up the whole world, and in the end, He'll still fulfill his plan, to return man to his original position. Nigga gave me some hooks, and said I gets to go fishin. God: I gave man doiminion over the Earth, to master the wealth. But most of my children dont have dominion over theyself. Satan: Thats where I come in. Call it original sin. Well, who really gives a flying fuck? I taught you how to blood suck, and ultimately self destruct. God: Know the ledge, wise the dome, do the data. I'm the alpha. Satan: I'm the beta. Ras Kass: And I'm omega. To be or not to be was man's question since conception. I think that for our end, was man's preception. But the birth is the ressurection. The son of God, or God's son, that lights our entire spectrum. You got everlasting life, long as you got day and night. Illumination, not education, to bring the blind sight. And what you need to know is that you'll never know it all. I'm a lowercase g, son of the ever-living God |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
I been around the world once had your fianc?twice I ain't nothin' nice but every lifestyle got a price Kiss my momma on the cheek cause her love was deep Like Keith Sweat but the deeper the streets get The deeper the beef get Enough fatal attraction to ??? your vet Cause everybody wanna have it ??? and sh Now ??? is my ??? over night insight I write like six hundred thousand kilobytes Yes I'm on one, European cars, Cuban cigars, rap stars, Glass ceilings to the inevitable cap dealing for sexual healing I lack feeling, voted for black women like Terry Macmillan Save a prayer for me, I was told no guts no glory I shed a tear once in a while, too But a soldier gots to do what he gots to do I once ??? in ??? for Rupert Murdoch, I thought you knew It is what it is Hook: [Jazze Pha] Nowadays, that's the way it is [Ras Kass] Why do we do what we do when we do what we must, that's how it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up [Jazze Pha] It's sad to say, but things just ain't the same no more [Ras Kass] Why do we do what we do when we do what we lust, it is what it is, and how it is is kinda fucked up [Ras Kass] If the pussy is free, then talk is cheap Then again, it's probably cheaper to keep her Back in the days, all a nigga needed was suede pumas and a beeper Now they all expecting condos, briquettes and pet cheetahs See ya when I see ya And by then I know the motors she bogus I noticed they jockin the rims on the ??? I learned early to trust God when moms was like [you wear all that Nike shit] You need to swoosh your ass and get a job My occupation be operation, more horsepower than Daytona Cause I'm a rider, like Wynonna Being nice is a vice, the gift is naturally mine That's like grand verbalizing not knowin the time See, my partners commit crimes servin federal ??? Confined to a six by nine regretin the wrong shit he did I swig, wishing we was still little kids But we grown men now homey, it is what it is Hook [Ras Kass] Hip hop ain't even fun In these strange days, rappers is getting done Like Jericho won Within two months, two major artists got slumped I whispered 'God rest the dead' and let the ??? pump pump Kept a ??? since about eleventh grade Rock the Donna Carren shades Cause I don't like to dream about getting paid But I'm afraid I do Trying to organize a team, willing to empty magazines This supreme fiends for cream We need g's, like Mary Magdelline and born again Christians Ain't a politician cause I already got your vote True, I want your money but I ain't a preacher no I don't even love the dough But if you don't work you don't eat, so I want all I can get before I go I love what money can get It's elementary evidently, the custom convertible Bentley tently It is what it is Hook x2 [Jazze Pha] There are things that we can change Some things remain the same That's just the way it is Way it goes, yeah There are things that we can change But most things gon' stay the same It's the way it is You better believe it, ooh yeah |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
She had me only, almost loosin my cool Remi and Moet wit brew, shootin pool Ask me if I wanted a dance, yeah Made my way to her chair, sugar shake it over here Fell in love wit the clothes that she didn't wear Beat the fat derriere, while I whispered in her air Hope it all about Chippers, I'm tryin to kick it after I tip ya Pour ya in my champagne glass and sip ya Tropical, clockin, Latin American mami, Sevita from Guyana Move like good sex, plus her eyes do the rest Baby soft flesh, you could rest, who the best Honey straight bangin ya, puffin the Buddha pest, tatas danglin Started to flow, she promised not to hurt me Wrapped her legs around my neck, and worked me, wit a lapdance [Chorus: RC] The Henny got me in a zone, I wanna take you home So we can be alone, for my lapdance I think I got another dime, just do it one more time The only thing that's on my mind, is my lapdance [Ras Kass] Face cameras on, raspberry lipstick Had to be twisted, |
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Kid Capri - Soundtrack To The Streets (2000) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998)
Everything I say don't be yae yo Haters in batter rams, I slam Like syringes in heroine, four hundred and fifty grams Overdose, every coast, one hundred spokes chrome Knock off some malt liquor by the malzatof Don't gotta floss, huh, ain't that the truth Flyin in boobies, silver six hundred Coup Like whoop whoop, holla at me big baby Sop me up wit a biscuit, cuz you know it's all gravy Linquistical flow, I ain't Mystikal, but y'all ain't ready If a nigga don't rhyme about crack, clothes, pussy and fatty Eat a dick, that's music to my balls, like Gloria Estefan fuckin Hakeem Olajuwon How this black lil nigga get more head than a beauty salon Guam, blowin ya shit out like Chaka Khan For sheezy, my favorite women is sleazy Bisexual triplet freaks, forty five at they sexual peaks I'm fuckin three Tony's, like Rafael Saadiq And got a trick up my life, manufacturin cheese My matrix will triculate wit melodies Rehabilitated hood rats, shake the specie I'm tryin to die filthy, rich and ruthless, I'm easy See Austin niggas is know for flossin But I still buy my T-shirts and socks from the slossin [Chorus: Ras Kass |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
Everything I say don't be yae yo Haters in batter rams, I slam Like syringes in heroine, four hundred and fifty grams Overdose, every coast, one hundred spokes chrome Knock off some malt liquor by the malzatof Don't gotta floss, huh, ain't that the truth Flyin in boobies, silver six hundred Coup Like whoop whoop, holla at me big baby Sop me up wit a biscuit, cuz you know it's all gravy Linquistical flow, I ain't Mystikal, but y'all ain't ready If a nigga don't rhyme about crack, clothes, pussy and fatty Eat a dick, that's music to my balls, like Gloria Estefan fuckin Hakeem Olajuwon How this black lil nigga get more head than a beauty salon Guam, blowin ya shit out like Chaka Khan For sheezy, my favorite women is sleazy Bisexual triplet freaks, forty five at they sexual peaks I'm fuckin three Tony's, like Rafael Saadiq And got a trick up my life, manufacturin cheese My matrix will triculate wit melodies Rehabilitated hood rats, shake the specie I'm tryin to die filthy, rich and ruthless, I'm easy See Austin niggas is know for flossin But I still buy my T-shirts and socks from the slossin [Chorus: Ras Kass |
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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from Michelob - Don`t Let The Smoove Taste Fool Ya!!! (2004) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996) | |||||
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4:10 | ||||
from Evidence - Cats & Dogs (2011) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
My puglistic linguistic rapping is a mixture of slug 'em in Slug 'em in Plug 'em in plug 'em in Come to spread it The world exclusive Check it From the underground producers Turn your face stone like Medusa Slap dick on a wicked pitch ...... sons Those who burn hurt turn nuns I be jumpin' through the flame With the name B.O.B.B.Y. Makin' a hobby Smoke the honey dip got my throat groggy You doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck What the fuck is wrong with you dickhead? Numb-nuts Just because you made a song or two What's the balance due on your royalties? Record companies spoil me As the ... hot oil me Fuck that savage back up Wu-Tang step inside the club Niggas might act up One potato Smack you like the crossfader Rap data, ...... the elevators Escape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper Fuck that I'm takin' back the forty acres ...... nature (Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby) [Ras Kass] (Huh) Yo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested At first she protested But only the seventh son of ... had the power Before the Midori Sour with red cherries Hereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries Wrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often Til my biological clock stops and my casket falls We sell tix<Celtics>like Boston basketball C-arson was askin' y'all Is Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all? No gimmicks, just me bein' me But you ain't bendin' or offendin' me Cuz anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me But I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?) 'Cuz the tendency to forget It ain't baseball, America's favorite national pastime is white supremacy Never seen a nigga granted clemency My metaphors is meta-five My styles go up in your ... little boy, you get fucked, like pedophiles When it's all said and done I'ma retire to an island in the Caymans Enslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama's life savings I take it all in stride Dennis Rodmans laced to the side This nigga glide, like Clyde My hands was tied Silent cries screamed genocide When two-thirds of the planet died in the end The end justifies the means The end is power (Power) Power corrupts absolute power corrupts absolutely Young black man, let us begin (2X |
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from Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Chronicles (2008) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996)
Intro Psssshh, I guess niggaz don't realize a good thing til it's gone You know what I'm sayin man? Runnin around in these streets trickin, shit's hard man You know? But sometimes man fools be bringin that shit on they god damn self Verse One Nappy headed nigga stigmatism at birth Born to a family of four and so that makes me one-fourth of a dysfunctional home I had a father who only stayed to see me grown When I turned twelve he was gone Alone, no role model I used to watch my Granddaddy and Uncle hit the bottle and then hit each other Granddaddy beat Grandmother, but that's before my time but I still see how it affected her mind As a child I introverted, and drew pictures While my mother prayed to Jesus reading King James scriptures She used to take me to church so I could put money in the basket Tell the preacher how she used to get her ass kicked And me, I mastered the art of hatred After pops left ran with my niggaz tryin to take shit Petty theft, I got caught a few times, but bust it Life is a bitch so fuck it In eighty-one I remember the night I covered myself with baby powder, so my black ass could be light Cause God is white, and Bo Derek is a ten I hate my black skin, it's just a sin to be a nigga Then again, I'm like the Frenchman, cause Granny's creole And therefore, we're black French people So I think it's best if I go to Catholic school And study under nuns and then I'll be a Catholic fool Cause none of these cults want none of us up and don't none want to see none of us live to be adults, sheeit No wonder brothers take lives for red and blue It's the evil that men do Chorus But every nigga on my block can't stop, and he won't stop, and he don't stop (repeat 4X) Interlude Nigga, nigga wake yo' punk ass up nigga! Nigga *smack* *smack* wake yo', wake yo' punk ass up!! *siren* (Where the fuck we at?) *helicopter* Nigga, one time nigga (Man I feel strange man, and I'm fin to go man) Shit, I'ma get you out, shit, bitches man) (Fuck that shit man, nigga what the fuck am I gonna do man?) *siren* We go make another gold LP nigga stop trippin nigga Nigga we own a gold LP, nigga stop trippin! Verse Two By the time I hit adolescence and found hair on my nuts I grew twelve inches so now it's time to fuck sluts Never respected women, just had to keep my dick wet Fucked this virgin named Lena, I made a bet with my homies I could hit it first, then kicked her to the curb til next year, I got a call from my man Kurt Since I never used jims I left a seed in the Earth that left a nigga feelin like dirt Cause now I'm a father, and got a two-week old daughter ironically, don't even know her name it's a damn shame And ol girl never told me she was havin my baby The more I thought about, she fuckin played me Cause the family's lookin at me like I raped her Plus with another fuckin mouth to feed I need paper Did a caper, and took my Guinness Stout to the head September 1990, drunk drivin, the light turned red Somebody hit from the rear, I hit the brakes Then lost control of the steering wheel Hit a black Camaro and that's all I remember that night I woke up to a five-oh flashlight The car that I hit had exploded on impact One woman escaped, but the driver was trapped, he burned to death Manslaughter, off to C-Y-A Liftin weights in the yard and playin spades all day Now I'm eighteen, hit the County in the mix "Name and last three!" Austin, oh-six-six By now Grandpa went crazy and my Uncle had died And me I'm at the ranch makin pruno in Wayside In ninety-three, I got probation Searchin for an occupation, cause now I'm pickin restitution, confusion I'm lookin at myself and seein every other nigga I knew It's the evil that men do Chorus Chorus (to fade) |
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from Ras Kass - Soul On Ice (1996)
Intro Psssshh, I guess niggaz don't realize a good thing til it's gone You know what I'm sayin man? Runnin around in these streets trickin, shit's hard man You know? But sometimes man fools be bringin that shit on they god damn self Verse One Nappy headed nigga stigmatism at birth Born to a family of four and so that makes me one-fourth of a dysfunctional home I had a father who only stayed to see me grown When I turned twelve he was gone Alone, no role model I used to watch my Granddaddy and Uncle hit the bottle and then hit each other Granddaddy beat Grandmother, but that's before my time but I still see how it affected her mind As a child I introverted, and drew pictures While my mother prayed to Jesus reading King James scriptures She used to take me to church so I could put money in the basket Tell the preacher how she used to get her ass kicked And me, I mastered the art of hatred After pops left ran with my niggaz tryin to take shit Petty theft, I got caught a few times, but bust it Life is a bitch so fuck it In eighty-one I remember the night I covered myself with baby powder, so my black ass could be light Cause God is white, and Bo Derek is a ten I hate my black skin, it's just a sin to be a nigga Then again, I'm like the Frenchman, cause Granny's creole And therefore, we're black French people So I think it's best if I go to Catholic school And study under nuns and then I'll be a Catholic fool Cause none of these cults want none of us up and don't none want to see none of us live to be adults, sheeit No wonder brothers take lives for red and blue It's the evil that men do Chorus But every nigga on my block can't stop, and he won't stop, and he don't stop (repeat 4X) Interlude Nigga, nigga wake yo' punk ass up nigga! Nigga *smack* *smack* wake yo', wake yo' punk ass up!! *siren* (Where the fuck we at?) *helicopter* Nigga, one time nigga (Man I feel strange man, and I'm fin to go man) Shit, I'ma get you out, shit, bitches man) (Fuck that shit man, nigga what the fuck am I gonna do man?) *siren* We go make another gold LP nigga stop trippin nigga Nigga we own a gold LP, nigga stop trippin! Verse Two By the time I hit adolescence and found hair on my nuts I grew twelve inches so now it's time to fuck sluts Never respected women, just had to keep my dick wet Fucked this virgin named Lena, I made a bet with my homies I could hit it first, then kicked her to the curb til next year, I got a call from my man Kurt Since I never used jims I left a seed in the Earth that left a nigga feelin like dirt Cause now I'm a father, and got a two-week old daughter ironically, don't even know her name it's a damn shame And ol girl never told me she was havin my baby The more I thought about, she fuckin played me Cause the family's lookin at me like I raped her Plus with another fuckin mouth to feed I need paper Did a caper, and took my Guinness Stout to the head September 1990, drunk drivin, the light turned red Somebody hit from the rear, I hit the brakes Then lost control of the steering wheel Hit a black Camaro and that's all I remember that night I woke up to a five-oh flashlight The car that I hit had exploded on impact One woman escaped, but the driver was trapped, he burned to death Manslaughter, off to C-Y-A Liftin weights in the yard and playin spades all day Now I'm eighteen, hit the County in the mix "Name and last three!" Austin, oh-six-six By now Grandpa went crazy and my Uncle had died And me I'm at the ranch makin pruno in Wayside In ninety-three, I got probation Searchin for an occupation, cause now I'm pickin restitution, confusion I'm lookin at myself and seein every other nigga I knew It's the evil that men do Chorus Chorus (to fade) |
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (The End) (1998) | |||||
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from Ras Kass - Rasassination (1998)
(yea yea YEAH) What you don't want it niggas liver than Teen Summit The Wild Pitch America's Most drunk and blunted Stick to fishes black widows kick this vicious Hot shit bitch Wild Pitch [Jah Skillz] I'm the funkalistic rapper choke an instant Got mixed wit Malibu rums and Mistic I'm a whole lot on it yea just a smidget Just cuz I live by the beach like ?Gidget? You must think I'm small time like that biz midget Add three piece smart mouth like bitches And you got me, Jah Killa jet ski ills Take me to the edge like poppin pills Straight up, no chase, hold up unless I'm bein followed Never swallow anything unless it's from a bottle And that's the whole truth, and nothin but the truth so help me God By the powers invested upon my 5 Footaz squad You ain't ready, oh cuz you dress like psychadelli You the GMC like Chevy, I put a levy on yo cash flow Just a little something to let yo ass know Who to give 2 kind to when you pass go Chorus [Xzibit] You dealin wit alumni criteria The one's that throwin Wild Pitches in ya area Strikin you out, sending you back to the dugout We goin up to your microphones pullin the plug out Superior, alumni criteria, we the MCs that you make you feel inferior Throwin Wild Pitches, fuckin your riches and your bitches Rasassination, Jah Skillz, and Xzibit [Ras Kass] I ejaculate on blind justice wit the jury's se quested And escape, run in a nigga's face like Hannibal Lector The aqua-mati, my pen is penitentiary Potenially plain paid for protocall pacific pro perfect cap pealer Performing skull circumsitions, when I position the prism Permiscuis wit other people's pussy ?pawn? wit the playa like Big Pun Poisonous poet, I Master "p" like UHHHHHHH!!! Skillz ?cotted? enabled Herb you just and ingrown hair in the world of tweezers We can dance before I crack MC's like Gator in jungle fever Got them speakin in number like SoundScan Severed the ears off your soundman, black Israelite Like four-hundred and forty-four thousand Niggas talk like dog, we'll walk like cat I'm Ozzy Osbourne bitin the head off of rats When they started bustin, fuck the Russian We playin West Indian Roulette, ?some of mine? blind get wet >From New Jack to Vet I can modem Comes off like three adam's apples in the inner scrotum My rhyme ?, clearin my sinus, bitch slime on your Iceberg And let the virus cross appliance Chorus [Xzibit] Give birth to earth to planet, we harder than granite And concrete, man made could never compete, complete down to the core Weighing in tons, hotter than lava, God, Javi, Jahovah, Allah heavenly Father Nuns to bank robbers, wealth beyond the dollar Here to school the scholar, make new born babies No live for no bitch or lady, they try to play me We flowin like the Mississsippi to the River Euphrates One-hundred and eighty times two, one complete rotation Fit any situation for a small donation, live on location Third planet from the sun Travel 24 hours you spend a lifetime to run Witness the slave shot he bolted to a gat and a gun >From Hitler, Musolini, to Attila the Hun Imagine existence wit no fear, tears never shed here One day for me could last a thousand years The first element baby, one two.... Chorus |