Lyrics...

[-Reda-]

Artist: Notorious B.I.G.
Album: Ready to Die
Song: Unbelievable

Verse One:

Live from Bedford-Stuyverson, the livest one
Representin BK to the fullest
Gats I pull it, bastards duckin when Big be buckin
Chickenheads be cluckin in my bathroom xxxxin
It ain't nuttin, they know Big be handlin
with the mac in the Ac' door paneling
Bandaging MC's, oxygen they can't breathe
Mad tricks up the sleeve, red boxers so my dick can breathe
Breeze through in the Q-45 by my side, lyrical high
And those that rushes my cluthes get put on crutches
Get smoked like dutches from the master
Hate to blast ya, but I have ta, you see I smoke a lot
Your life is played out like Kwame, and them xxxxin polka dots
Who rock the spot? Biggie!
You know how the weed yo, unbelievable

Verse Two:

B-I-G, G-I-E, AKA, B.I.G.
Get it? Biggie
Also known as the bon appetit
Rappers can't sleep need sleepin Big keep creepin
Bulelts heat-seekin, casualties need treatin
Dumb rappers need teachin
Lesson A - don't xxxx with B-I, that's that, oh I, thought he was wack
Oh come come now, why y'all so dumb now
Hunt me or be hunted, three hundred and fifty-seven ways
To summer sautee, I'm the winner all day
Lights get dimmer down Biggie's hallway
My forte causes caucausians to say
He sounds demented, car-weed scented
If I said it, I meant it
Bite my tongue for no-one
Call me evil, or unbelievable

Verse Three:

Buck shots out the sun roof of Lexus Coupe's
Leave no witnesses, what you think this is
Ain't no amateurs here, I damage and tear
MC's fear me, they too near not to hear me
Clearly, I'm the triple beam dream
One thousand grams of uncut to the gut
It seems xxxxed up, the way I touched up the grill
Tryin to play gorilla, when you ain't no killer
The gat's by your liver, your upper lip quiver
Get ready to die, tell God I said hi
And throw down some ice, for the nicest MC
Niggaz know the steelo, unbelievable

[casawiea]

No answer.........

[-Reda-]

Artist: Notorious BIG
Album: Ready to Die
Song: Suicidal Thoughts

(RING, RING)

(Hello? Aw shit, nigga. What the xxxx time is it, man?
Oh god damn. Nigga do you know what time it is?
Aw shit, what the xxxx's goin' on? You alright?
Aw, nigga what the xxxx is wrong wit you?)

When I die, xxxx it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to xxxxin' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
xxxx that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a xxxxin' abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my xxxxin' hunger
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
My babies' mothers 8 months, her little sister's 2
Who's to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you)
I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless xxxxin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my xxxxin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is xxxxin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand (nigga, talk to me please)
You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back
Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet
People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sista had somethin' goin' on
I reach my peak, I can't speak,
call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak.
I'm sick of niggas lyin', I'm sick of xxxxxes hawkin',
matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'.
(BANG)
(hey yo big...hey yo big)

[-Reda-]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door casawiea
No answer.........

hoe bedoel je?

[casawiea]

D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
check op kazaa dj saman die heeft ook heel mooit muziek gemixt.
je krijgt dan helemaal zin in een feestje .

[casawiea]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
hoe bedoel je?

JE ANDERE TOPIC DIE NIEUWE GA KIJKJE NEMEN DAN.

[-Reda-]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door casawiea
D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
check op kazaa dj saman die heeft ook heel mooit muziek gemixt.
je krijgt dan helemaal zin in een feestje .

ik weet het...

[-Reda-]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door casawiea
hahah hey ik vind deze nergens weet jij de songtekst van deze 3liedje.
1 chaka demus_pliers met het liedje murder she wrote. hie kan je lekker op dansen.
2 ice cube met het liedje you can do it.
3 Rl met het liedje ghetto

oooooooooooow sjorry!!!

Artist: Ice Cube f/ Mack 10, Ms. Toi
Album: Next Friday Soundtrack
Song: You Can Do It

[Ice Cube]
Yeah, yeah
Get your ass and hurra
Uh, Ice Cube baby
Ninety-nine baby
I'm on the grind baby
All the time baby
Show me something

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Ice Cube]
Tic-tic-boom
Hear me banging down these back streets
Bumpin' BlackSTREET, treated like a athlete
Life ain't a track meet (no) it's a marathon
xxxx the cemetery that a nigga get buried on
We be clubbing till the day we die
Nigga ask the bartender if you think we lie
But if you think we high, nigga think again
Cause when it's sink or swim
You got to think to win
And if I drink this Hen'
Everybody will know it
Cause I ain't going for it
So pray to the Lord that I don't pull out
Cuss out and bust out
Go the nigga route
Make the trigger shout, uh
You can try to smoke an ounce to this
While I pronounce this shit
Baby bounce them tits
Mama move them hips
Baby shake them cheeks
I got dick for days
You got ass for weeks, yeah, yeah

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Ice Cube]
Now all I wanna do is have fun with my loved ones
The thug ones, relatives and my cousins
And I got ‘em by the dozen
When they buzzin', quick to say xxxx your husband
This is for my niggas locked away
Extra love for the ones who ain't got no date
But when we hit checkmate with Ice Cube the great
As soon as I get a word we can rush the safe
xxxx them license plates because life is great
It don't matter if you're rich and your folks ain't straight
I'm still coming with that underground gangsta shit
No matter how many niggas say we ain't the shit, xxxxx

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Mack 10]
I do hard core rhyming, hard time grinding
With will I xxxx hoes
Other niggas wine and dine them
Gotta love this pup shit
Passing the mud shit
Pockets on flood shit
OG lyrical blood shit
I don't rent I buy shit
Niggas jealous of my shit
You unaware of this young nigga getting all the fly shit
While you're rooting and recruiting
Nigga 6-8 whooping
I was in the hood shooting cause I had the wife whooping
I come from padres gold in oversized jars
I past up strife and got star awards
No time for playa hating, Mack paper chasing
Came out the substation to the hip hop nation
The mo' hits the mo' bigga with illegal weight figga
Done develop the status of a platinum plus nigga
Bust the first asshole to show I can hit it
I keep pushing, don't quit it
Don't stop till I get it

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
Put your ass into it
We be clubbing
Freaky gyration is close to fornication
We be clubbing
Freaky gyration is close to fornication…
Yeah uh-huh, Ice Cube, Westside Connection
Know how we do?
We puttin' it down, constantly
Get your ass up and hurra

[casawiea]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
ik weet het...

Wat weet jij niet



meghaa selema.

[casawiea]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
oooooooooooow sjorry!!!

Artist: Ice Cube f/ Mack 10, Ms. Toi
Album: Next Friday Soundtrack
Song: You Can Do It

[Ice Cube]
Yeah, yeah
Get your ass and hurra
Uh, Ice Cube baby
Ninety-nine baby
I'm on the grind baby
All the time baby
Show me something

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Ice Cube]
Tic-tic-boom
Hear me banging down these back streets
Bumpin' BlackSTREET, treated like a athlete
Life ain't a track meet (no) it's a marathon
xxxx the cemetery that a nigga get buried on
We be clubbing till the day we die
Nigga ask the bartender if you think we lie
But if you think we high, nigga think again
Cause when it's sink or swim
You got to think to win
And if I drink this Hen'
Everybody will know it
Cause I ain't going for it
So pray to the Lord that I don't pull out
Cuss out and bust out
Go the nigga route
Make the trigger shout, uh
You can try to smoke an ounce to this
While I pronounce this shit
Baby bounce them tits
Mama move them hips
Baby shake them cheeks
I got dick for days
You got ass for weeks, yeah, yeah

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Ice Cube]
Now all I wanna do is have fun with my loved ones
The thug ones, relatives and my cousins
And I got ‘em by the dozen
When they buzzin', quick to say xxxx your husband
This is for my niggas locked away
Extra love for the ones who ain't got no date
But when we hit checkmate with Ice Cube the great
As soon as I get a word we can rush the safe
xxxx them license plates because life is great
It don't matter if you're rich and your folks ain't straight
I'm still coming with that underground gangsta shit
No matter how many niggas say we ain't the shit, xxxxx

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it

[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
Put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
Put your ass into it

[Mack 10]
I do hard core rhyming, hard time grinding
With will I xxxx hoes
Other niggas wine and dine them
Gotta love this pup shit
Passing the mud shit
Pockets on flood shit
OG lyrical blood shit
I don't rent I buy shit
Niggas jealous of my shit
You unaware of this young nigga getting all the fly shit
While you're rooting and recruiting
Nigga 6-8 whooping
I was in the hood shooting cause I had the wife whooping
I come from padres gold in oversized jars
I past up strife and got star awards
No time for playa hating, Mack paper chasing
Came out the substation to the hip hop nation
The mo' hits the mo' bigga with illegal weight figga
Done develop the status of a platinum plus nigga
Bust the first asshole to show I can hit it
I keep pushing, don't quit it
Don't stop till I get it

[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi] (Ice Cube)
Don't stop get it, get it
(That's real)
Don't stop nigga hit it
(I will)
[Ice Cube]
I'm gon' do it, gon' do it
Gon' do it, do it, do it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
[Ms. Toi]
You can do it put your back into it
[Ice Cube]
I can do it put your ass into it
Put your ass into it
We be clubbing
Freaky gyration is close to fornication
We be clubbing
Freaky gyration is close to fornication…
Yeah uh-huh, Ice Cube, Westside Connection
Know how we do?
We puttin' it down, constantly
Get your ass up and hurra

thanks boy

[-Reda-]

Artist: Chaka Demus & The Pliers
Song: Murder She Wrote


Now dis one dedicated to the girls
Dem wid di angel face and the devil heart
Yuh no say Ragamuffin Chaka Demus an youth called Pliers
Come to deal with your case
Step up my youth - Hear dis!

I know this little girl, her name is Maxine
Her beauty is like a bunch of rose
If I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote (fi real fi real)
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote

Watch ya now, it name
A pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka (follow me!)
A pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka
Seh gal yuh pretty
Yuh face it pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just act too flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom, Dick, an also Harry
An when yuh find yuh mistake
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry, sorry, sorry (Come now!)

Have her (cruise?) di corner where she jooks an where she jam
She know about Lou, Crack an every money man
Me talk about coolie chiney, White Man and Indian
Di wickedest kind a girl whey Mr. Pliers buk upon

Now when yuh heard about this girl, her name is Maxine
Her beauty is like a bunch of rose (But)
If I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote (Murderation man)
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote (Na na na)
Murder she wrote

Watch yuh now stand still
Yuh no pay me light bill
If yuh tes di ragamuffin
Gal ya gwan get kill
Gal keep 'way
Caw yuh a crebbie crebbie
An di limits of me talk of if a DJ
Gal come out
Becaw yuh nuh shockout
Now when yuh hear di ragamuffin
Yuh haffi jump and shout
Now touch me gate
Yuh nuh pay mi water rate
Becaw great is great, yuh cyaan underate (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka (Follow me!)
Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka

Seh girl yuh pretty
Yuh face is pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just a have to
Flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom Dick,
An also Harry
An when yuh find yuh mistake
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry
Sorry, sorry

Now every middle of the year dis girl go have abortion
Fi di coolie white Man, Indian no seek inna ((nail fun?))
An jus di other day me see her six months pregnant
Now she up an switch her girl with other baby inna pram

So yuh heard about this girl her name is Maxine
Her beauty's like a bunch of rose
An' if I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote (Na nana)
Murder she wrote

Excuse me!
Gal me never know yuh a so yuh stay
Ragamuffin Chaka Demus com fi flash it same way
Waoh woa (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka (Follow me!)
Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka

Seh girl yuh pretty
Yuh face is pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just a have to
Flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom, Dick
An also Harry
An when yuh plan yuh mischeif
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry
Sorry, sorry
Di gal a pose an' a brag how she look sexy
All she worship is pure vanity
Di gal a pose anna brag how she look ready
When she wash her clothes it dirty
Gal yuh no ready
If yuh cyaan cook fi mi
Gal yuh no ready
If yuh cyaan wash fi mi
Gal yuh nuh ready
If yuh know yuh flirty flirty (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka (Follow me now)
Yuh pretty face an bad character (Murder she wrote)
Dem the kinda livin can't (Murder she wrote) hold Chaka

So stand still (Murder she wrote Na nana)
Yuh no pay me light bill
An if yuh tes di ragamuffin (Murder she wrote)
Gal ya gwan get kill
Gal keep 'way
Caw yuh ahaffi back way
An di ((limit see me talk)) of him a DJ
Gal come out Becaw yuh nuh shockout
Now when yuh hear di ragamuffin
Yuh haffi jump and shout
Now touch me ((gate?))
Yuh nuh pay mi water rate
Becaw great is great is yuh gong fi di rate (Come down)

Now yuh heard about this little girl her name is Maxine
Her face is like a bunch of rose
Man a if I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know

[-Reda-]

Nu wat battle Songz--> diss songz
first up: Nas met "Ether", gericht aan Jay-Z

Artist: Nas
Album: Stillmatic
Song: Ether

[gunshots]

[Nas talking]
("xxxx Jay-Z&quot
What's up niggas, ay yo, I know you ain't talkin 'bout me dog
You, what?
("xxxx Jay-Z&quot
You been on my dick nigga, you love my style, nigga
("xxxx Jay-Z&quot

[Chorus]
(I) xxxx with your soul like ether
(Will) Teach you the king you know you
(Not) "God's son" across the belly
(Lose) I prove you lost already

Brace yourself for the main event
Y'all impatiently waitin
It's like an AIDS test, what's the results?
Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and Big
Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy
I embrace y'all with napalm
Blows up, no guts, left chest, face gone
How could Nas be garbage?
Semi-autos at your cartilege
Burner at the side of your dome, come outta my throne
I got this, locked since '9-1
I am the truest, name a rapper that I ain't influenced
Gave y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
With Hawaiin Sophie fame, kept my name in his music
Check it

[Chorus]

[talking]
Ay yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these niggas man (no doubt)
Ay, y'all faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the xxxxin ring

[Chorus]

I've been xxxxed over, left for dead, dissed and fogotten
Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave (uh)
Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face
Y'all some well wishin (xxxxxes), friendly actin envy hidin snakes
With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?
When these streets keep callin, heard it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef
Started cockin up my weapon, slowly loadin up this ammo
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handle
This for dolo and his manuscript just sound stupid
When KRS already made an album called "Blueprint"
First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big
Dick suckin lips, whyn't you let the late, great veteran live

[talking]
(I...will...not...lose)
"God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost already
The king is back, where my crown at?
(Ill...will) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas

[Chorus]

Y'all niggas deal with emotions like xxxxxes
What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother
You traded your soul for riches
My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous
And now I smile like a proud dad, watchin his only son that made it
You seem to be only concerned with dissin women
Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
Well life is harsh, hug me, don't reject me
or make records to disrespect me, blatant or indirectly
In '88 you was gettin chased through your buildin
Callin my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers
All I did was gave you a style for you to run with
Smilin in my face, glad to break bread with the god
Wearin Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no cars
No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no case
Just Hawaiian shirts, hangin with little Chase
You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan
I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class
You Tae-bo hoe, tryna' work it out, you tryna' get brolic?
Ask me if I'm tryna' kick knowledge
Nah, I'm tryna' kick the shit you need to learn though
That ether, that shit that make your soul burn slow
Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?
Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's Puffy
Rockefeller died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter
And that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after?
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellas
And now y'all try to take my spot, fellas?
Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas
In a pine box with nine shots from my glock, fellas
Foxy got you hot 'cause you kept your face in her puss
What you think, you gettin girls now 'cause of your looks?
Ne-gro please
You no mustache havin, with whiskers like a rat
Compared to Beans you wack
And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame
You ass, went from Jaz to hangin with Kane, to Irv, to Big
And, Eminem murdered you on your own shit
You a dick-ridin faggot, you love the attention
Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons
Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick
J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick
Your whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick
Shaun Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dick
So little shorty's gettin gunned up and clapped quick
How much of Biggie's rhymes is gon' come out your fat lips?
Wanted to be on every last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss

[-Reda-]

Response: Jay-Z's "Takeover", gericht aan Nas en Mobb Deep:

Artist: Jay-Z
Album: The Blueprint
Song: Takeover

[Jay-Z]
R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
Memphis Bleek, we runnin this rap shit
B. Mac, we runnin this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit

The takeover, the break's over nigga
God MC, me, Jay-Hova
Hey lil' soldier you ain't ready for war
R.O.C. too strong for y'all
It's like bringin a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test
Your chest in the line of fire witcha thin-ass vest
You bringin them Boyz II Men, HOW them boys gon' win?
This is grown man B.I., get you rolled into triage
Beatch - your reach ain't long enough, dunny
Your peeps ain't strong enough, xxxxa
Roc-A-Fella is the army, better yet the navy
Niggaz'll kidnap your babies, spit at your lady
We bring - knife to fistfight, kill your drama
Uh, we kill you motherxxxxin ants with a sledgehammer
Don't let me do it to you dunny cause I overdo it
So you won't confuse it with just rap music

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we runnin this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
{x"Watch out!! We run New York" -> KRS-Onex}

I don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews
You little xxxx, I've got money stacks bigger than you
When I was pushin weight, back in eighty-eight
you was a ballerina I got your pictures I seen ya
Then you dropped "Shook Ones," switch your demeanor
Well - we don't believe you, you need more people
Roc-A-Fella, students of the game, we passed the classes
Nobody can read you dudes like we do
Don't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you
Trust me on this one - I'll detach you
Mind from spirit, body from soul
They'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole
No, you're not on my level get your brakes tweaked
I sold what ya whole album sold in my first week
You guys don't want it with Hov'
Ask Nas, he don't want it with Hov', nooooo!

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
B. Sigel, we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Freeway, we run this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
{x"Watch out!! We run New York" -> KRS-Onex}

I know you missin all the - FAAAAAAAME!
But along with celebrity comes bout seventy shots to your frame
Nigga; you a - LAAAAAAAME!
Youse the fag model for Karl Kani/Esco ads
Went from, Nasty Nas to Esco's trash
Had a spark when you started but now you're just garbage
Fell from top ten to not mentioned at all
to your bodyguard's "Oochie Wally" verse better than yours
Matter fact you had the worst flow on the whole xxxxin song
but I know - the sun don't shine, then son don't shine
That's why your - LAAAAAAAME! - career come to a end
There's only so long fake thugs can pretend
Nigga; you ain't live it you witnessed it from your folks pad
You scribbled in your notepad and created your life
I showed you your first tec on tour with Large Professor
(Me, that's who!) Then I heard your album bout your tec on the dresser
So yeah I sampled your voice, you was usin it wrong
You made it a hot line, I made it a hot song
And you ain't get a coin nigga you was gettin xxxxed and
I know who I paid God, Serchlite Publishing
Use your - BRAAAAAAAIN! You said you been in this ten
I've been in it five - smarten up Nas
Four albums in ten years nigga? I can divide
That's one every let's say two, two of them shits was due
One was - NAHHH, the other was "Illmatic"
That's a one hot album every ten year average
And that's so - LAAAAAAAME! Nigga switch up your flow
Your shit is garbage, but you try and kick knowledge?
(Get the xxxx outta here) You niggaz gon' learn to respect the king
Don't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen
Because you know who (who) did you know what (what)
with you know who (yeah) but just keep that between me and you for now

R.O.C., we runnin this rap shit
M-Easy, we runnin this rap shit
The Broad Street Bully, we runnin this rap shit
Get zipped up in plastic when it happens that's it
Freeway, we run this rap shit
O & Sparks, we runnin this rap shit
Chris & Neef, we runnin this rap shit
{x"Watch out!! We run New York" -> KRS-Onex}

A wise man told me don't argue with fools
Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who
So stop with that childish shit, nigga I'm grown
Please leave it alone - don't throw rocks at the throne
Do not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you
I don't know why your advisors ain't forewarn you
Please, not Jay, he's, not for play
I don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin and gimmicks
I will end it, all that yappin be finished
You are not deep, you made your bed now sleep
Don't make me expose you to them folks that don't know you
Nigga I know you well, all the stolen jew-els
Twinkletoes you breakin my heart
You can't xxxx with me - go play somewhere, I'm busy
And all you other cats throwin shots at Jigga
You only get half a bar - xxxx y'all niggaz

[casawiea]

Citaat:

Origineel gepost door D@T KrAy-Z MoCrO
Artist: Chaka Demus & The Pliers
Song: Murder She Wrote


Now dis one dedicated to the girls
Dem wid di angel face and the devil heart
Yuh no say Ragamuffin Chaka Demus an youth called Pliers
Come to deal with your case
Step up my youth - Hear dis!

I know this little girl, her name is Maxine
Her beauty is like a bunch of rose
If I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote (fi real fi real)
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote

Watch ya now, it name
A pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka (follow me!)
A pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka
Seh gal yuh pretty
Yuh face it pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just act too flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom, Dick, an also Harry
An when yuh find yuh mistake
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry, sorry, sorry (Come now!)

Have her (cruise?) di corner where she jooks an where she jam
She know about Lou, Crack an every money man
Me talk about coolie chiney, White Man and Indian
Di wickedest kind a girl whey Mr. Pliers buk upon

Now when yuh heard about this girl, her name is Maxine
Her beauty is like a bunch of rose (But)
If I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote (Murderation man)
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote (Na na na)
Murder she wrote

Watch yuh now stand still
Yuh no pay me light bill
If yuh tes di ragamuffin
Gal ya gwan get kill
Gal keep 'way
Caw yuh a crebbie crebbie
An di limits of me talk of if a DJ
Gal come out
Becaw yuh nuh shockout
Now when yuh hear di ragamuffin
Yuh haffi jump and shout
Now touch me gate
Yuh nuh pay mi water rate
Becaw great is great, yuh cyaan underate (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka (Follow me!)
Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka

Seh girl yuh pretty
Yuh face is pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just a have to
Flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom Dick,
An also Harry
An when yuh find yuh mistake
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry
Sorry, sorry

Now every middle of the year dis girl go have abortion
Fi di coolie white Man, Indian no seek inna ((nail fun?))
An jus di other day me see her six months pregnant
Now she up an switch her girl with other baby inna pram

So yuh heard about this girl her name is Maxine
Her beauty's like a bunch of rose
An' if I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know (but)

Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote
Murder she wrote (Na nana)
Murder she wrote

Excuse me!
Gal me never know yuh a so yuh stay
Ragamuffin Chaka Demus com fi flash it same way
Waoh woa (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka (Follow me!)
Yuh pretty face an bad character
Dem the kinda livin can Hold Chaka

Seh girl yuh pretty
Yuh face is pretty
But yuh character dirty
Gal yuh just a have to
Flirty flirty
Yuh run to Tom, Dick
An also Harry
An when yuh plan yuh mischeif
Yuh talk bout yuh sorry
Sorry, sorry
Di gal a pose an' a brag how she look sexy
All she worship is pure vanity
Di gal a pose anna brag how she look ready
When she wash her clothes it dirty
Gal yuh no ready
If yuh cyaan cook fi mi
Gal yuh no ready
If yuh cyaan wash fi mi
Gal yuh nuh ready
If yuh know yuh flirty flirty (Follow me!)

Yuh pretty face and bad character
Dem the kinda livin can't hold Chaka (Follow me now)
Yuh pretty face an bad character (Murder she wrote)
Dem the kinda livin can't (Murder she wrote) hold Chaka

So stand still (Murder she wrote Na nana)
Yuh no pay me light bill
An if yuh tes di ragamuffin (Murder she wrote)
Gal ya gwan get kill
Gal keep 'way
Caw yuh ahaffi back way
An di ((limit see me talk)) of him a DJ
Gal come out Becaw yuh nuh shockout
Now when yuh hear di ragamuffin
Yuh haffi jump and shout
Now touch me ((gate?))
Yuh nuh pay mi water rate
Becaw great is great is yuh gong fi di rate (Come down)

Now yuh heard about this little girl her name is Maxine
Her face is like a bunch of rose
Man a if I ever tell you bout Maxine
You would a say I don't know what I know

nog maals bedankt

[LaZina]

hey..
mijn complimenten hoor voor deze site!! maar hebben jullie miscchien nog meer songteksten van Marokkaanse songs!!! En het liedje yoom wara yoom!?!??! alvast bedankt en ga zo door heh want ik vind dit echt vet!!

x x x x Nahid