Tag: Big Pun


BlocBoy JB – Prod By BlocBoy Lyrics




[Intro]
Hah, hah, check it (word)
Hah hah hah (yeah yeah yeah), check it
(Yeah, yeah) hah, hah (yeah yeah yeah)
Hah (Bloc), hah (whoa), hah (word)

[Verse]
These niggas after me
I got them shooters on balconies
I’m gettin’ head from a bitch and she Japanese (word)
Niggas they talkin’, I’m loadin’ and clappin’ these
Loadin’ and clappin’ these pistols (pistols)
You are not an automatic hitter (a hitter)
Really you an automatic misser
Fuck it, I’ma automatic get you (huh?)
Smack a nigga ass with the pistol (pistol)
Pop a nigga ass like a pimple (a pimple)
Store-store-store run, get the gun (store run)
Up the Tommy, take his funds (he gone)
Take the hundreds leave the ones
For the strippers nigga (for the strippers)
I got an SK with a shank, that’s the tipper nigga (that’s the tipper)
Beat a nigga, sweep a nigga
We don’t need them niggas (fuck ’em)
I don’t think you niggas ’bout nothin’ (word)
When I see you in the street (huh?), you ain’t even got a gun
Askin’ niggas for money (word), nigga you ain’t got no funds
You know I do it B-I-G, you can call me Big Pun (yeah yeah yeah)
But I don’t smoke no pom-poms
Run up, get done up (word)
My clip is so heavy, I can’t hold my arm up (my arm up)
Y’all niggas faker than warmups (warmups)
I got the bread like a farmer (I-I-I-I)
Shoot like I’m Mario Chalmers (Chalmers)
Workin’ my wrist, fuck my arm up (fuck my arm up)
I feel like Nash on the Suns, Mario chasin’ them corn
You dancin’, we pull up with guns, I’m 700, you done (Crip, Crip)
Got my hitters in the front like a radiator
Using big words so you know they annihilate you
I’m in her mouth like Now & Laters, bitch I got all flavors
Bring that shit back, no turntable
Multiply that like times tables
We ain’t got time for that
If you really want a crease, use the iron for that
Now a nigga need a piece of his spinal back
In a line of MAC’s
Ke-ke-keep that, keep that iron for that
If it’s an altercation, nigga we use nines for that
We don’t do conversations, baby we don’t got time for that
We ain’t got time for that, we ain’t got time for that

[Outro]
(Hey, wait)
We gon’ do the ad-libs
(Hey, wait)
Tay, told ’em go’n do the ad-libs
Klay, I got your bitch callin’ me a, bae
And I really don’t know what to, say
I want her head like some motherfuckin’ braids
And you know I’m finna, ayy, ayy, ayy
And I made this beat, ayy
Got your bitch and she in the sheets, ayy
And we turnt up in the studio
Track nation, yeah we live in this fuckin’ ho
I got your bitch, she tryna book me for a fuckin’ show
She gon’ make you pay for it, and you already know
Bitch, I’m live
Like Channel Five
I just put ’bout a three five
In a blunt, now I’m so fuckin’ high
To the sky though
Nigga askin’ me these questions, I’m like why though?
And my niggas got that money standing five four
My money standing six four, I’m in a six four with the loads
Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, bitch




21 Savage – Who Run It Freestyle lyrics




Trap Music
[Intro]
Straight up
21

[Verse]
.223 Diamondback with the drum, nigga (straight up)
Choppa like to crush a lot, Big Pun nigga (straight up)
I’ve been taking money ever since I was young, nigga (straight up)
Sneak dissin’, niggas cuttin’ out your tongue, nigga (straight up)
Real street nigga, I ain’t doin’ no cappin’, nigga, I ain’t told no lies (21)
I don’t give a f*ck if I got a hunnid’ million, I’m keepin’ my .45 (on God)
Walkin’ up on ya nigga, point blank range, we ain’t doin’ no drive-by’s (yeah)
I still right here wit’ hollows, nigga, and I got my Glock out (facts)
She keep tryna watch Netflix, bitch, I’m pullin’ my cock out (straight up)
Hit her with the dick and I left that bitch cockeyed (straight up, straight up)
All these VVS’s, I made your bitch cockeyed (21, 21)
Talkin’ out your neck, you get your T-shirt tie-dyed (on God)
I’m on Percocet’s, I think I’m finna skydive (yeah)
You little n*ggercat, you must think you got nine lives (21)
I’m so sick of all this fruity sh*t, you niggas on thin ice
That stick gon’ cut you half-time, now these niggas wanna switch sides (straight up)
I ain’t really with that takin’ sh*t, lil’ nigga, I’m walkin’ up (straight up)
That .30 like a tree lil’ nigga, watch where you barkin’ up (straight up)
We got way too many shots, y’all lil’ niggas can’t dodge enough (on God)
We can even challenge ya, ’cause y’all lil’ niggas ain’t charged enough (fast)
Quarter million dollar for a walkthrough (straight up)
Get the utmost respect when I walk through (straight up)
I love the way you suck that dick, lil’ bitch, don’t forget who taught you (straight up)
Way too much, can’t stalk you (straight up)
Bogeyman, nigga, I’ll haunt you (on God)
All these bullets ’round me, nigga, I ain’t got time to punch you (21)
Hit ’em wit’ the 3-2, all y’all niggas see through (yeah)
Broad day, I’ll see food, had to hit a lick at Kiku (yeah-yeah)
Lil’ bitch I don’t need you (yeah-yeah)
Hell Nah, I can’t eat you (yeah-yeah)
Let the whole gang G you, then I left that bitch at Jeju (yeah-yeah)
You must be scared or some, nigga, let’s bet the spread or some (21)
That’s your main bitch, but I bet that lil’ bitch spread for some (on God)
I got all these blues like I ain’t bangin’ red or somethin’ (trre)
I bought all these cars like l ain’t got no legs or somethin’ (yeah)
Fuck that other side, pull up in ya hood switch it (21)
Stash money, murder, two guns, nigga, big B’s (21)
Every time I hit that bitch she come back like a frisbee (yeah)
I ain’t got time to play with nobody kids, go watch Disney (yeah)
Skin made of concrete, nigga, you can never be me (21)
My brother down the road with a touchscreen and a FeFe (BF)
Candlelight gang, leave a nigga on the TV (21)
Fish fry gang, y’all can’t even afford to die
Bitch, I’m way too real, I can’t even afford to lie


Young Thug – WTF You Doin Lyrics


[Intro: Young Thug & Quavo]
Yeah
YSL, Migos, s’geddit
DJ Durel!
Migos, Jeffrey
Man we gotta gotta go, we gon’ go go
Gon’ go brazy on this bitch, let’s get it

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’ma go hit him in the leg, have the nigga try to run
I done got a little richer, all a nigga pockets Big Pun
I just got a Reggie Miller and the motherfucker one of one
I just got another bitch pregnant and my bitch say she leavin’
Now she stayin’, now she goin’
What the fuck a nigga doin’?
What the fuck they prop-pursuin’?
And my mama say I’m good
But my bitch say that I’m ruined
Yeah, nigga fuck the police
Black and white house, Belly
Black bitch tall like Keesh
Gon’ pass the rock right to me, I’ma score (swish!)

[Verse 1: Quavo]
What the fuck a bitch doin’
Call Will Smith cause the cash I’m pursuin’
Call Cam Newton hit a nigga call with the Uzi, cool it
Drinkin’ on fluid, cup full of mud no sewage
I put the bitch in the movie
Duke put the dope in her coochie
Who this nigga think he foolin’ (who)
Young nigga act a fool with ’em (ayy)
They don’t know what do with ’em
Don’t know me cause you went to school with ’em
Slime told me don’t bool with ’em
Baow, graow the tool gon’ get ’em (baow!)
Choppers and pistols, my nigga dismiss ’em
I like to fuck bitches but nah I can’t kiss her
Damn, I need me a babysitter
I serve the niggas some kitty litter
Takin a phone for the issues
Nah, we can’t take a picture (flash)
I double park a new Fisker
They callin’ me Quavo the fisher
Mister Huncho official (huncho)
I blow a check like a whistle

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’ma go hit him in the leg, have the nigga try to run
I done got a little richer, all a nigga pockets Big Pun
I just got a Reggie Miller and the motherfucker one of one
I just got another bitch pregnant and my bitch say she leavin’
Now she stayin’, now she goin’
What the fuck a nigga doin’?
What the fuck they prop-pursuin’?
And my mama say I’m good
But my bitch say that I’m ruined
Yeah, nigga fuck the police
Black and white house, Belly
Black bitch tall like Keesh
Gon’ pass the rock right to me, I’ma score (swish!)

[Verse 2: Duke]
I’m gonna hit ’em in the head, pussy nigga can’t think no more
I just wanna fuck and get some head, hell nah can’t cape them hoes
Pour a whole pint of the red and I can not drink it no more
She suck my dick til’ I’m dead, I just be plankin’ on hoes
Throw all my money in hunnids, call up the bank on these hoes
Red bottoms on a bad bitch
Don’t shop nowhere but at Saks Fifth
Walk around with the Draco
And they gon’ shoot when I say so
Stack up the hunnids like Lego
I got some gangsters and there he go
Pulled up in a Wraith (skrrt)
Damn, you should have seen they face
Diamonds they blind ’em like mace
I just wanna fuck her then nut on her face
Damn, today been a hell of a day
Three different states in a day
Young nigga steady gettin’ paid
Your nigga he broke, he make minimum wage

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’ma go hit him in the leg, have the nigga try to run
I done got a little richer, all a nigga pockets Big Pun
I just got a Reggie Miller and the motherfucker one of one
I just got another bitch pregnant and my bitch say she leavin’
Now she stayin’, now she goin’
What the fuck a nigga doin’?
What the fuck they prop-pursuin’?
And my mama say I’m good
But my bitch say that I’m ruined
Yeah, nigga fuck the police
Black and white house, Belly
Black bitch tall like Keesh
Gon’ pass the rock right to me, I’ma score

[Verse 3: Rich The Kid]
What the fuck these niggas doin’
More racks, drop a sack at the jeweler
Foreign ride, but your boyfriend a loser
Bust down Rollie, straight out the cooler
I fucked your bitch, make a movie
Model turned to a groupie
This lil’ stripper got hit with the boot
And we came from the bottom, throwin’ money out the roof
Rich nigga I done flooded my fingers
Bet they gon’ hate when you make it
Trap still jumpin’ like 2 3
Fuck the judge, ain’t coppin’ a plea
Play with the keys like Stevie
Trap or Die, now I’m livin’ like Jeezy
Lamborghini and I’m whippin’ it easy
Walk around pockets cheesy

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I’ma go hit him in the leg, have the nigga try to run
I done got a little richer, all a nigga pockets Big Pun
I just got a Reggie Miller and the motherfucker one of one
I just got another bitch pregnant and my bitch say she leavin’
Now she stayin’, now she goin’
What the fuck a nigga doin’?
What the fuck they prop-pursuin’?
And my mama say I’m good
But my bitch say that I’m ruined
Yeah, nigga fuck the police
Black and white house, Belly
Black bitch tall like Keesh
Gon’ pass the rock right to me, I’ma score (swish!)


The heart part 4 – Kendrick Lamar lyrics


Lyrics Kendrick Lamar – The heart part 4

Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you.(the heart part 4)

Thirty millions later, my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Travel ’round the atlas in this spaceship
Candy-coated, my day shift’s
Been devoted to f*ckin’ up bundles of paper
Pi equals three-fourteen
The devil’s pie is big enough to justify the whole thing
Wait up, lampin’ in Jamaica versuri-lyrics.info
The clouds turnin’, my thoughts turnin’
Burnin’ castor oil, I been determined to make an earnin’
This seed in this soil is classified
I’m satisfied when I strategize my kid’s future
I ain’t sanctified enough to say that I won’t shoot ya
I done vandalized the industry full circuit
The earthiest slash thirstiest nigga you know versus this
Scum of a land that transcend two surfaces
The richer the poorer, the bigger the picture
The more blood pours, but..(the heart part 4)

Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you.

My fans can’t wait for me to son ya punk-ass
And crush ya whole lil’ shit
I’ll Big Pun ya punk-ass, you a scared little b*tch
Tiptoein’ around my name, nigga, you lame
And when I get at you, homie
Don’t you just tell me you was just playin’
Oh, I was just playin’, K-Dot
C’mon, you know a nigga rock with you, bro
Shut the f*ck up, you sound like the last nigga I know
Might end up like the last nigga I know
Oh, you don’t wanna clash? Nigga, I know
I put my foot on the gas, head on the floor
Hoppin’ out before the vehicle crash, I’m on a roll
Yellin’, “One, two, three, four, five
I am the greatest rapper alive!”
So damn great, motherf*cker, I’ve died
What you hearin’ now is a paranormal vibe
House on the hill, house on the beach, nigga (facts)
A condo in Compton, I’m still in reach, nigga (facts)
I’m fresh out the water, I’m ’bout to breach, nigga
The five-foot giant woke up out of his sleep, nigga
Oh yeah, oh yeah, mo’ cars, mo’ leers
Mo’ bars, no peers, no scars, no fear—f*ck y’all, sincere
I heard the whispers, I curved the whispers
You know what the risk is
Earthed in ditches, your body revertin’ to stiffness
The whole world gone mad
Bodies is addin’ up, market’s about to crash
Niggas is fake rich, b*tches is fake bad
Blacks that act white, whites that do the dab
Donald Trump is a chump
Know how we feel, punk? Tell ’em that God comin’
And Russia need a replay button, y’all up to somethin’
Electorial votes look like memorial votes
But America’s truth ain’t ignorin’ the votes
It’s blasphemy, how many gon’ blast for me?
I prophesized on my last song, you laughed at me
Oh, when the shit get brackin’, don’t you ask for me
How many leaders gon’ tell you the truth after me?
G Malone big bro, kudos to him
I was two O’s from a M, tryna be big as Em
Thirty millions later, my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Salmon and capers, fame and lawsuits
You lookin’ at me in Chucks, I’m lookin’ at y’all suits
Me and Top Dawg playin’ rock-paper-scissors in court
A real hustler lose money just to go get some more
I said it’s like that, drop one classic, came right back
‘Nother classic, right back
My next album, the whole industry on the ice pack
With TOC, you see the flames
In my E-Y-E’s; it’s not a game
And the whole world is goin’ mad, daddy, it’s sad, daddy
My only advice? Go and get you a bag, daddy
Lee Baca on trial, tryna portray a boxer
Beatin’ up on my niggas while the CO’s watch him
Tables turned, lesson learned, my best look
You jumped sides on me, now you ’bout to meet Westbrook
Go celebrate with your team and let victory vouch you
Just know, the next game played I might slap the shit out you
Technical foul, I’m flagrant, I’m foul
They throwin’ me out, you throw in the towel
Look at the crowd, they— (Nah, I don’t like that)
Look at my smile, I’m smirkin’
Calm but urgent (That ain’t the style, f*ck!)
So many verses, you live in denial (f*ck!)
So many verses, I never run out (What?)
You makin’ him nervous, the music is loud
Ho, Jay Z Hall of Fame, sit yo’ punk ass down!
(Sit yo’ punk ass down!)
So that means you ain’t bigger than rapping (What else?)
So that means no more playin’ the back scenes (What else?)
My spot is solidified if you ask me (What else?)
My name is identified as “That King”
I’ll let y’all worry about a list, I’m on some other shit
A difference between accomplishments and astonishments
You know what time it is, ante up, this is in forever
Y’all got ’til April the 7th to get y’all shit together.(the heart part 4)

Let’s get it
Look, look
On foenemmm.
Kendrick Lamar lyrics
Video part 4


KENDRICK LAMAR – The Heart Part 4 lyrics


Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you

30 millions later, my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Travel round the atlas in this spaceship candy-coated
My day shift’s been devoted to fuckin’ up bundles of paper
Pi equals 3.14
The devil’s pie is big enough to justify the whole thing
Wait up
Lampin’ in Jamaica, the cloud’s turnin’, my thought’s turnin’
Burnin’ castor oil, I been determined to make an earnin’
This seed in this soil is classified
I’m satisfied when I strategize my kid’s future
I ain’t sanctified enough to say that I won’t shoot ya
I done vandalized the industry full circuit
The earthiest slash thirstiest nigga you know versus this
Scum of a land that transcends two surfaces
The richer the poorer, the bigger the picture
The more blood pours, but…

Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you

My fans can’t wait for me to son ya punk ass and crush your whole lil shit
I’ll Big Pun ya punk ass, you a scared little bitch
Tiptoein’ around my name, nigga ya lame
And when I get at you homie don’t you just tell me you was just playin’
Oh I was just playin’ with you K-Dot, c’mon
You know a nigga rock with you, bro
Shut the fuck up, you sound like the last nigga I know
Might end up like the last nigga I know
Oh you don’t wanna clash? Nigga, I know
I put my foot on the gas, head on the floor
Hoppin’ out before the vehicle crash, I’m on a roll
Yellin’, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5
I am the greatest rapper alive”
So damn great motherfucker I’ve died
What you hearin’ now is a paranormal vibe
House on the hill, house on the beach nigga (facts)
A condo in Compton, I’m still in reach nigga (facts)
I’m fresh out the water I’m ’bout to breach nigga
The five foot giant woke up out of his sleep nigga
Oh yeah, oh yeah, more cars, more leers
More bars, no peers, no scars, no fear, fuck y’all, sincere
I heard the whispers, I curved the whispers, you know what the risk is
Earth indigenous, ya body reverting to stiffness
The whole world goin’ mad
Bodies is adding up, market’s about to crash
Niggas is fake rich, bitches is fake bad
Blacks that act white, Whites that do the dab
Donald Trump is a chump, know how we feel, punk
Tell ’em that God comin’
And Russia need a replay button, y’all up to somethin’
Electorial votes look like memorial votes
But America’s truth ain’t ignorin’ the votes
It’s blasphemy, how many gon’ blast for me?
I prophesied on my last song, you laughed at me
Oh when the shit get brackin’, don’t you ask for me
How many leaders gon’ tell you the truth after me?
G Malone big bro, kudos to him
I was 2 Os from an M, tryna be big as Em
30 millions later my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Salmon and capers, fame and lawsuits
You looking at me in Chucks, I’m looking at y’all suits
Me and Top Dawg playing rock, papers, scissors in court
And real hustler lose money just to go get some more
I said it’s like that, drop one classic, came right back
‘Nother classic, right back
My next album, the whole industry on the ice pack
With TOC
You see the flames and my E-Y-E’s
It’s not a game and the whole world is going mad, daddy
It’s sad, daddy
My only advice? Go and get you a bag daddy
Lee Baca, on trail tryin’ portray a boxer
Beatin’ up on my niggas while the COs watch ’em
Tables turn, lesson learned, my best look
You jumped sides on me, now you ’bout to meet Westbrook
Go celebrate with your team and let victory vouch you
Just know the next game played, I might slap the shit out you
Technical foul, I’m flagrant, I’m fouled
They throwin’ me out, you throwin’ the towel
Look at the crowd, they (nah, I don’t like that)
Look at my smile, I’m smirking
Calm but urgent (that ain’t the style, fuck)
So many verses, you live in denial (fuck)
So many verses, I never run out, what?
You making him nervous, the music is loud
Hoe, Jay Z Hall of Fame, sit your punk ass down (sit yo’ punk ass down)
So that means you ain’t bigger than rapping (what else?)
So that means no more playing the backseats (what else?)
My spot is solidified if you ask me (what else?)
My name is identified as “that king”
I’ll let y’all worry about a list, I’m on some other shit
A difference between accomplishments and astonishments
You know what time it is, ante up, this is in forever
Y’all got till April the 7th to get ya’ll shit together

Lets get it!
Look look, on foenem…


Kendrick Lamar – The Heart Part 4


[Chorus]
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you

[Verse 1]
30 millions later, my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Travel round the atlas in this spaceship candy-coated
My day shift’s been devoted to fuckin’ up bundles of paper
Pi equals 3.14
The devil’s pie is big enough to justify the whole thing
Wait up
Lampin’ in Jamaica, the cloud’s turnin’, my thought’s turnin’
Burnin’ castor oil, I been determined to make an earnin’
This seed in this soil is classified
I’m satisfied when I strategize my kid’s future
I ain’t sanctified enough to say that I won’t shoot ya
I done vandalized the industry full circuit
The earthiest slash thirstiest nigga you know versus this
Scum of a land that transcend two surfaces
The richer the poorer, the bigger the picture
The more blood pours, but…

[Chorus]
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you
Don’t tell a lie on me
I won’t tell the truth ’bout you

[Verse 2]
My fans can’t wait for me to son ya punk ass and crush your whole lil shit
I’ll Big Pun ya punk ass, you a scared little bitch
Tiptoein’ around my name, nigga, ya lame
And when I get at you, homie, don’t you just tell me you was just playin’
Oh I was just playin’ with you K-Dot, c’mon
You know a nigga rock with you, bro
Shut the fuck up, you sound like the last nigga I know
Might end up like the last nigga I know
Oh, you don’t wanna clash? Nigga, I know
I put my foot on the gas, head on the floor
Hoppin’ out before the vehicle crash, I’m on a roll
Yellin’, "One, two, three, four, five
I am the greatest rapper alive"
So damn great, motherfucker, I’ve died
What you hearin’ now is a paranormal vibe
House on the hill, house on the beach, nigga (facts)
A condo in Compton, I’m still in reach, nigga (facts)
I’m fresh out the water I’m ’bout to breach, nigga
The five-foot giant woke up out of his sleep, nigga
Oh yeah, oh yeah, more cars, more leers
More bars, no peers, no scars, no fear, fuck y’all, sincere
I heard the whispers, I curved the whispers, you know what the risk is
Earth indigenous, ya body reverting to stiffness
The whole world goin’ mad
Bodies is adding up, market’s about to crash
Niggas is fake rich, bitches is fake bad
Blacks that act white, whites that do the dab
Donald Trump is a chump, know how we feel, punk
Tell ’em that God comin’
And Russia need a replay button, y’all up to somethin’
Electorial votes look like memorial votes
But America’s truth ain’t ignorin’ the votes
It’s blasphemy, how many gon’ blast for me?
I prophesied on my last song, you laughed at me
Oh, when the shit get brackin’, don’t you ask for me
How many leaders gon’ tell you the truth after me?
G Malone big bro, kudos to him
I was 2 Os from a M, tryna be big as Em
30 millions later my future favors
The legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior
Salmon and capers, fame and lawsuits
You looking at me in Chucks, I’m looking at y’all suits
Me and Top Dawg playing rock-paper-scissors in court
And real hustler lose money just to go get some more
I said it’s like that, drop one classic, came right back
‘Nother classic, right back
My next album, the whole industry on the ice pack
With TOC
You see the flames and my E-Y-E’s
It’s not a game and the whole world is going mad, daddy
It’s sad, daddy
My only advice? Go and get you a bag, daddy
Lee Baca, on trial tryna portray a boxer
Beatin’ up on my niggas while the COs watch ’em
Tables turned, lesson learned, my best look
You jumped sides on me, now you ’bout to meet Westbrook
Go celebrate with your team and let victory vouch you
Just know the next game played, I might slap the shit out you
Technical foul, I’m flagrant, I’m foul
They throwin’ me out, you throw in the towel
Look at the crowd, they (Nah, I don’t like that)
Look at my smile, I’m smirking
Calm but urgent (That ain’t the style, fuck)
So many verses, you live in denial (Fuck)
So many verses, I never run out, what?
You making him nervous, the music is loud
Hoe, Jay Z Hall of Fame, sit your punk ass down (Sit yo’ punk ass down)
So that means you ain’t bigger than rapping (What else?)
So that means no more playing the backseats (What else?)
My spot is solidified if you ask me (What else?)
My name is identified as "that king"
I’ll let y’all worry about a list, I’m on some other shit
A difference between accomplishments and astonishments
You know what time it is, ante up, this is in forever
Y’all got ’til April the 7th to get ya’ll shit together

[Outro]
Let’s get it!
Look look, on foenem


Wyclef Jean – The Ring (J’ouvert Deluxe Edition Album)


[Intro]
It’s been 7 years, man. I left at the height of my career, man and I’m coming back. It’s like I’m starting all over again. It don’t matter what I did before, man. This the music business, man. You’re only as hot as your last hit. Everybody like, "Yo, can he get another ring?"

[Hook]
100 million records, all the work I put in
All they wanna know is will I get another ring, yeah
Will I get another win
All they wanna know is will I get another ring

[Verse 2]
The smile in my face, behind my back, they hate us
But like Bernie Mac said, I ain’t scared of you motherfuckers
Little Haiti to Sicily, Big Pun, he was a friend to me
Fat Joe, he called me literally, put me on a track instantly
Caribbean connection put me all the way up
What goes up must go down, so Thugga picked me up
Ay, that’s what I call that street cred
Take your chance in the lobby, you gon’ meet those old dreads
Chef [?], me and Khaled go back
So far back, boy shottas, man, he had a 6 pack
And I’m back on the tribe on a quest to go harder
So hard, you gon’ think I’m all 3 Carters
Why haters wanna doubt that I’m Luke with the Force
Man, they kids got the scores, screamin’ too much hot sauce

[Hook]
100 million records, all the work I put in
All they wanna know is will I get another ring, yeah
Will I get another win
All they wanna know is will I get another ring

[Verse 2]
A And the A stand for Alpha and Omega
B And the B stand for Bury You, that’s what I’m known to do to rappers
C C stands for Chance, once you take, regard your shit
DEF, is the squad, boy, read my lips
GH, General from Haiti, make my day
I stood in my jeans, in front of that ‘K’
And for me to take a L, it’s gon’ take MN
What’s that? Mother Nature with them strong winds
And oh, my Peace Productions like the Q
As in Quincy when he did that Thriller, Michael Jackson blew
And this is who we are, STU
Abbreviation for the studio, I kill it in the booth
And the V, be very careful when you watchin’ shottas
The W could turn to her and that’s murder for hire
By the window, light X, don’t ask why
I ain’t takin’ no Zs ’cause the clan’s outside

[Hook]
100 million records, all the work I put in
All they wanna know is will I get another ring, yeah
Will I get another win
All they wanna know is will I get another ring

[Verse 3]
Bean me up Scottie, I’m on that antidote
That Broccoli D.R.A.M gave me got me movin’ slow mo’
This big, I’m countin’ my blessings like I’m Sean
See the Future with my Jimmy Hendrix shades on
Haters wanna doubt and thought that I forgot my scales
That’s like I am Mike forgettin’ he trainin’ [?]
Vic hit me on the Jag, told me he mad
Wiz Khalifa paper plane’ll have you feel glad

[Hook]
100 million records, all the work I put in
All they wanna know is will I get another ring, yeah
Do I rap or will I sing?
All they wanna know is will I get another ring
Oh, I’ma get another ring
Oh, I’ma get another ring
From my mouth to God, aye
We gon’ get another ring
We gon’ get another ring
I’ma get another win
We gon’ get another ring


Google Ads