  | An awesome song by shyheim. AKA The Rugged Child.
***correct lyrics thanks to mrmike971979***
a.k.a. a.k.a the rugged child)
Microphone check one two one two yo
Microphone check one two one two yo
Microphone check one two one two yo
Microphone check one two
One's for the money
two's for the show
three's for ya hooker
but we all say HOE!
My slang and my gang bows up the concrete
Like Eric B. & Rakim
Don't sweat the technique
So you got beef
Run on sonny go get ya posse
Cause I've got a mosse, we all wear Huraches
Then you hear me kicking and said yo he is mad rugged
The jump on my tip, but I thought nothing of it
Cause I let the microphone spark right after dark
And be dropping mad skillz like my name was Path Mark
The rebel to society
Everybody's trying me
Looking at me strangely, Damn right it amazed me
Had I did something wrong or am I dumb
Brothers keep stressing, no shorties the one
To make it real snappy, and little nasty-nasty
Things get pawsie-pawsie
And of to be hax me
Get a little dome and still can't hold your own
On da microphone, so keep licking on that wish bone
You had you're chance but you fell down the tubes
So you're hanging out with dudes, now you say that rock rules
You make me laugh as you're mom's get smoked
You get ate like a taffy, and red like the chokes
Flow with the flower from the Wu-tang free-style
You catch a bow-bow, And hail to this wild, child
From the Staten the Island, the temple
just an example how pop goes the pistol
chorus (x2)
One's for the money
two's for the show
three's for ya hooker
but we all say, HOE!
Here comes the shortie with the tec twenty two
but If you tell Im gonna blast you
From the projects worst ghetto section
So my bike bought a gun for protection
Shortie do-wop, more juice than tupac
Coming through with the Wu-tang hip-hop
Shortie ra-ra, shorts sneaky shy-shy
Go-go, ga-ga, now you want me poppa
Im not a mack daddy or a daddy mack
Touch my knapsack, boy you gettin' bitch smacked
My kinda style may not be familiar
It's like roach spray, U fool around and it kills ya,
Who will be the next to flex and face death
ashes to ashes, and only dust is left
chorus (x2)
One's for the money
two's for the show
three's for ya hooker
but we all say, HOE Auteur: 494814z2 Tags: clan da dirty money ones shyheim tang version wu Ajoutée: mercredi 05 juin 1996 19:37:29 |
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 | A song with awesome instrumentals.
From the album 'Confessions of Fire' 1998
What? One, two
Check me the f*** out
I'm here now, ha, ha, I'm here now
Ya'll should have never let me in the muthafuckin' game B
They f***** up lettin' me in Un
They done did it to theyselves man
I tell ya'll what's goin' down
Yo, eh yo, you see him, Cam in the BM
Wit the Koreans, to G 'em, for land in Korea
Take the Lear jet flight when
Thursday night, overseas
Y'all f*** up it's worth they life
Huh, you niggaz heard me right
Ugh, for that Persian white
I go to church of Christ, search a life
First to heist a nigga for they merchandise
My niggaz ball for weight
Sprinkle ten grams of coke on they corn flakes
To make it frosted flakes
Oh, these jewels on my neck
You'll say the Lord, I'm saved
My s*** cost some cake
You think you can afford a date?
But yo, your men should know
That my crew, we intend to blow
Treat you cats like Martin Lawrence
And motherfuckin' end your show
When I say no, what don't you understand the N or O?
Like that nigga Jigga said, "Yo, you either friend or foe"
So respect my wish, I'm a perfectionist and wit the gun
Is the only time a nigga plays catch and kiss
Check the list, how many necks I twist
Who expected this? Exodus
Blow over night, or even sex a b****
But she catch feelings everytime I hit her off
On my dick so bad I need Cochran to get her off
Ask my nigga Digga, or my other nigga Mr. Ross
Ah the point we get across, to make it that you'll get across
And cats get sued and I ain't wanna holler rape
But you live in the 'burbs, your business or your holidays
You where my down south niggas at, wha, what
You where my north side niggas at, wha, what
You where my east side niggas at, wha, what
You where my west side niggas at, wha, what
You where my Cam'ron niggas at, wha, what
You where my Harlem World niggas at, wha, what
You where my N.O.R niggas at, wha, what
You where my down south niggas at, wha, what
Check it, eh, yo I just wanna walk wit ya'll
I don't wanna rhyme, I just need to talk wit ya'll
How you feel about me? Yo, I think I'm pretty hot
When I rhyme, niggas grab they dick and diddy bop
And pull they skelly down
And put their ice grill on, like they don't trust a nigga
And walk around the club, like they 'bout to crush a nigga
I get a nigga mad enough to where he snuff a nigga
Dont have a toast, yo, you f*** around and bust a nigga
You got to love a nigga, the way I crime what
Out west they f*****' throwin' gang signs up
Wildin' all out and don't kid where they wind up
Next day same ice grill inside a lineup
Ya'll niggas' time's up
No mean to trouble you
I'll snatch your kids quicker than B.C.W.
What you mad about? I see a lot of tightened jaws
I got a lot of hoes, but I'm really, really liking yours
Not to nag her, 'bout if I could bag her
It ain't if I could have her, it's how I'm gonna have her
Lay her like a cornerback
On her back, on the mat
Found out that you wanna act
We ran through her, you want her back?
Come on wit that, you kiss a hoe
Yo when the b**** leaves
You f*** around and miss the hoe
Oh, I'm the type to twist the hoe then diss the hoe
Choke and threaten to kill her, like her last name's Carlissimo
Listen yo, trick the hoe and get her dough
That was Pryor like Richard yo
See I done been around the world
See I met Puff and I know Mason
But still the best nation, nigga is donation
So let me hold somethin'
Yo, you can't change my livin'
This robbery's a holiday
Call it Thanksforgivin', 'cause you a turkey
Talkin' bout you sell weight
Nigga you had soul mates, I had cell mates
But now I've been in the same three hummers
For the same three summers
And dice love me
They stay on the same three numbers
You where my down south niggas at, wha, what
You where my north niggas at, wha, what
You where my east side niggas at, wha, what
You where my west side niggas at, wha, what
You where my Cam'ron niggas at, wha, what
You where my Harlem World niggas at, wha, what
You where my N.O.R niggas at, wha, what
You where my down south niggas at, wha, what
You where my north niggas at, wha, what
You where my west side niggas at, wha, what
You where my east side niggas at, wha, what
What, what, what, what
What, what, what, what
What, what, what, what Auteur: 494814z2 Tags: 1998 Cam'ron Confessions Fire ft Glory Noreaga of Ajoutée: samedi 22 août 2009 07:59:07 |
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 | The Untold Truth (1993) [Malik] Yeah yeah yeah yeah, Diamond D once again, youknowhatimsaying? Illegal in the house, crumbsnatchers Snatching up all the crumbs, taking over I'm the original crumbsnatcher, making money master Choose to do what I gotta do cause I have to Die to survive, take a ride down the darkside Dipping and I'm dabbing with my man Diamond D, right Tell you a little story, listen close to what I say When I stole one's car cause they home all day So I jumped in the ride, cranked it up and I'm Audi Stole got me right, so I'm feeling buckwild, G Hit the highways, die ways, which way should I go, oh no I packed the 25 toe show Single just released so the hype got me mellow You heard of Cloud 9 where the world is supposed to Pedal to the metal, ride it on this roller coaster Who's gonna tell David that his Malik got mad? Went over the last hill and oops, I crashed I wasn't too dizzy to put the stack in the stash The story is the real, best believe it's the truth Don't wanna up them keys and them locks better be bulletproof [Diamond D] Some crumbsnatchers, some crumbsnatchers Some crumbsnatchers, they're snatching crumbs and all (Repeat 2x) [Malik] It's little Malik and Jamal [Diamond] Diamond D coming at ya Some crumbstachers, some crumbstachers [Malik] It's little Malik and Jamal [Diamond] Diamond D coming at ya Some crumbstachers, snatching crumbs and all [Jamal] Every day on the corner of 6-0 where I only got two more packets to go I |