|
4:16 | ||||
from The Diplomats - More Than Music Vol.1 (2006)
Intro-Hell Rell]
You see man... These coward ass niggas don't understand nothing That's right...Hell Rell...Heatmakers [Verse 1-Hell Rell] Gangstas fuck with me, hustlas fuck with me Cuz they grew up on the same blocks that corrupted me And if you aint real right, don't throw it up to me A bunch of cowards, cocksuckers Ya'll growed up to be You aint walking right, get ya diddybop together Don't give a fuck, let ma sinny pop whenever And, we could get to scrappin I'ma fighter, not a lover man Never be broke, stretch coke like it's rubberband My dope from Africa, straight from the motherland Ya girl can't suck a good dick, but ya mother can You had to get a deal to ice your wrist, ya hands, neck I did that without show money, or advance check Niggas I used to smack up, sent to the store Think they gangsta now, posted up in front of the store Man ya'll still lil niggas to me Ya'll just grew some side burns and a lil goatee Remember me [Chorus-Hell Rell] I told you, this is what I do on Diplomatic Immunity I was gone for a while, but now ya'll got to get used to me Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building Plus, you always wanna talk about What ya'll niggas gon' do to me I'm standing right here, on my hip is where the rugers be Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building [Verse 2-Hell Rell] Yeah, fuck with me Get in this dipset groove I had a flow before Dub was screaming "get fresh crew" I bust ma guns, get fresh too Now I don't work out, but I'll Pull up on the block and bench press you And these bricks, they get moved like they in my way And if I shoot down to M-I-A Now I aint goin to see Trick Daddy Or run up in Benzino's club I came to cop a couple kilo's, this is bug buisness Killa's the head honcho, Jim Jones the Cappo I'm Hell Rell, chase cheese, middle name Nacho And my nigga Santana, yeah he's human crack And it's that fresh outta jail flow, can't lose with that You wanna get a nigga shot, it gotta come from me You wanna open up a spot, it gotta come from me You wanna take over a block, it gotta come from me But when them boys start asking questions It aint come from me [Chorus-Hell Rell] I told you, this is what I do on Diplomatic Immunity I was gone for a while, but now ya'll got to get used to me Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building Plus, you always wanna talk about What ya'll niggas gon' do to me I'm standing right here, on my hip is where the rugers be Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building [Verse 3-Hell Rell] Yo, I got a good relationship when it come to them feins Fair exchange, no robbery when it come to them things They money, go in my pocket Ma crack, go in they stem Stem go in they mouth They light, they love, they like it Runnin' from jail, dodging bullets Ducking indicments I don't do it for the money, I just love the excitement And ya'll niggas wanna go and buy costom made kicks Me, I went and brought Bigger guns, costom made clips Niggas can't skeem on em (not at all) Cuz Hell Rell got that thing on 'em Trucked parked up, V-S's blinged on 'em Confusing when dudes think, it's just music I lean on 'em, get da reaching Pull out guns with beams on 'em These niggas got me in the mix We organize crime (Dipset Mafia) They only knocked Gotti, cuz a snitch You gon' hear the shotty when it spit These bullets and these pellets Seperate ya upper body from ya hip nigga [Chorus-Hell Rell] I told you, this is what I do on Diplomatic Immunity I was gone for a while, but now ya'll got to get used to me Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building Plus, you always wanna talk about What ya'll niggas gon' do to me I'm standing right here, on my hip is where the rugers be Yes, Hell Rell's back in the building I got everybody hostage, I took over the building |
|||||
|
4:01 | ||||
from Sheek Louch - Silverback Gorilla (2008) | |||||
|
2:43 | ||||
from The Diplomats - More Than Music Vol.1 (2006)
(feat. Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Hell Rell, JR Writer, 40 Cal & Unkasa)
Intro I dont care what yall say, what yall do, but yall better rep harlem until the goddamn music is through. Mr C. lets do it (Juelz Santana) All eyes on the honorable (who) Dipset, back to the grill again live at the barbeque (?) All my niggaz ride like a carnival Heat drawn all you niggaz lie like carpet do Get up and get ready, what up the kids ready Now that Im back the game is fucked the bitch let me You front, u stunt, You get heat clown Yeah punks jump up to get beat down (Jim Jones) Now eight years ago, I played the bench wit dimes Everybody on my corner is gettin bent off dimes Sittin back, sippin yak tryna get us some sneakers Sittin back in the Lac puffin nickels of reefer (?) on the strip in the midst of the drug trade (?) Im watchin for (?) in midst of the drug raid But niggaz gotta eat its like my stomach is touchin back New York rider for u suckerz that fuckin asked (Hell Rell) Now can I kick it yes I can They wanna know if Im G'd up, Yes i am Look Ive overpaid my dues I almost made the news Block kind of hot but the cocaine gon move If I was a brick u wouldnt know what to do wit me You'd probably pick me up get a stem and start using me Nobody built me, I made myself And you dont know how to shoot guns you grazed yourself (J.R. Writer) I was a fiend Before I became a teen I was dreams tossed for the latest beams (urrh) Made me cream cuz Aye They kept the powder in the tray way before it was Maybelene Im in to major stacks, Major stats, Hate on that Cam holla'd cuz imma bring his label plaques That aint made of plaque WHOA Your jewlry aint gold, You copped your jewlry from Hov They all fade to black (Un Kasa) I keep a nine in my dresser Lyrical proffessor Keep u under pressure Aint a nigga better Mind like a computer Six rugers Get your fam go to war with six shooters I fuck bitches in coupes they straight Hooters Get head and thank Buda (?) and sip Lua I go hard you runnin with State Troopers My niggaz straight shotters, Cock back and straight shootCha (Mr C.) Not in my book never that nigga, I told yall niggas to go till the fuckin Beat stopped. When (?) I had Juelz Santana, Jim Jones, Hell Rell, J.R. Writer, Un Kasa, |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from 40 Cal of Dipset - Dipset Mania Special Edition (2011) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from 40 Cal of Dipset - Dipset Mania Special Edition (2011) | |||||
|
3:27 | ||||
from The Diplomats - More Than Music Vol.1 (2006) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) | |||||
|
4:20 | ||||
from Jim Jones - Hustler'S P.O.M.E. (2007)
<i>[Jim Jones]</i>
You're reign on the top, short like Leprechauns I came through in drops, Porches and heavy charms I came from the block, the slums wit ex-con's And we aimin' them glocks of course ready to bomb Now I done seen a Custy' cop four pies of the same gear Also seen a nigga cop four rides in the same year This concrete jungle, no trees to swing from This weed and gettin drunk and heaters gettin dumped Hit the highway nigga ki's up in the trunk Back up in the city with some skeezas in the trunk I aint a player but I do my dirt dog Drop top 'Cedes better move when it merk off It got me swingin to the left lane Plus a nigga caughin 'cause the haze give me chest pain Yes motha fucka the boys is back With my vest and I'm tucked up with my boys in back <i>[Chorus: Jim Jones]</i> You dont want it with them niggaz While you niggaz steady bitching my niggaz gettin' richer You mad 'cause we ballin' Bet you mad 'cause we scorin If he get out of line put his punk ass in a coffin Nigga we a ragime, Byrdgang we the truth Keep a foriegn sedan or swirvin' in the coupe Oakwood in the interior, swade on the roof Now shoot, {Bang, Bang} shoot {Bang, Bang} <i>[Hell Rell]</i> Aw man Hell Rell, he on the same bullshit agiain Same black hoody{Yup}, same fo' fifth again Bithes stopped likin' me but now they on my dick again Seen me in the Ashton with my glistinin' Yea I'm bustin off the chrome Yea I'm 'bout to off your dome Kill the mother and the father, kids go to foster homes Yea I like to floss the chrome, nigga leave the boss alone See my neck and my wrist, I'm rockin' what it costs for homes Homie they dont call me ruger for nothing Back out on theese bitch niggaz get that ruger to dumpin' Dont run up on me nigga you know I stay with it G'd up from the beef and brock's to the Oakland A's fitted That's the bottom to the top, it's in the bottom of the pot I got it white, I got it tan, it's either you copin' or you not Nigga jets is pullin' off and you stuck in the current D.I.P., B.G., fuck what you heard <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Jim Jones]</i> We all strapped in the ride, I aint talkin' like the elderly Yac'ed when we drive like a rollin fuckin' felony Trapped to survive, get the bucks, sell them ki's It's hard to get by that's why we puff hell'a'weed But if this high dont come down I feal the world spinnin' like the sky gon' come down I need air top of the ride gon' come down And i swear I stay fly when I jump out Jewled up in ice like what that dude like Spider four thirty with the blue'ish lights Got the coupe bright, still shoot dice For my niggaz on the east side this is true life <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) | |||||
|
4:25 | ||||
from The Diplomats - More Than Music Vol.1 (2006) | |||||
|
3:28 | ||||
from Dj Greg Street, Dj Kay Slay - The Champions : North Meets South (2006) | |||||
|
3:54 | ||||
from The Diplomats - More Than Music Vol.1 (2006) | |||||
|
4:11 | ||||
from Juelz Santana - What The Game's Been Missing! [Explicit Version] (2005)
feat. Hell Rell
[Intro] Uh-ohhhh! Cold cold time again baby I'm back in the, back in the, back in the building Juelz Santana (Aye!) Dip Set bitch I need all my soldiers and my block men to stand up for me It's 'bout that time you know [Chorus] My hood, my city, my side Whatever you wanna call it nigga I ride My town, my car, my block Whatever you wanna call it nigga I rock My state, my strip, my ave Whatever you wanna call it nigga I'm bad My building, my porch, my stue Whatever you wanna call it nigga I'm loose [Juelz Santana] Straight for paper Paper chaser Gangsta gangsta Gangsta gangsta I know my block is a crazy zoo But it got me crazy glued (stuck) I got to make these moves So I hustle the hardest (drugs) I got no team Just a connect and a couple of partners I keep my street niggaz, my street niggaz (yup) I keep my cheese niggaz, my cheese niggaz (Yup) I keep my beef niggaz, my beef niggaz (yup) I keep my weed niggaz, my weed niggaz Keep business business, keep pleasure pleasure And I never mix it, ever ever Yeah the code of the street Eyes open don't sleep (whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop) There go the police That's why you catch me moving through dolo Moving through solo, steel weapon, steel weapon [Chorus] [Hell Rell] Niggaz always catch the bodies in the hood (yup) Straight shootin up the party in the hood (uh-uh) Mafia ties, I'm like Gotti in the hood Tellin hoopty on the black Maserati through the hood Rememeber when we used to play karate in the hood (remember) Now my rims look like ninja stars Nigga I've been the star (I ain't have shit) I remember when I didn't have shit to bar Now I can lean you a couple of clips You hungry homey you can eat a couple of clips Come to my strip, you gon see niggaz G'd up cuz We slangers (slangers) Gang bangers (east-side) And when it comes to squaley we stranges, plus I keep my thug niggaz, my thug niggaz I keep my blood niggaz, my blood niggaz Spend it all I ain't no cheap ass nigga I'm always gonna ride this I'm a weed sack nigga, YUP! [Chorus] [Juelz Santana] I represent mine to the fullest (oh yeah) I represent the grind to the fullest (oh yeah) I represent scar time, bar time, hard times Yeah, hard times to the fullest (oh yeah) We need to have a million man march again We need to have a million man march up in The white house start a million man argument Like Bush why a million man starving in? My city, my town, my hood Whatever you wanna call it nigga what's good We riders, we rollers, we survivors, we soldiers We don't crack under pressure We relax under pressure Most of all, we don't rap under pressure We bang, and we pitch this crack 'Till the cops shut us down or waste respect [Chorus] - repeat to fade |
|||||
|
3:25 | ||||
from The Eye of the Hustler (2009) | |||||
|
- | ||||
from Purple City - Shiest Bubz: Summer Grind (2006) |