Artist: Dr. Dre featuring Snoop Doggy Dogg
Album: The Chronic
Song: Nuthin But A "G" Thang
[Snoop Doggy Dogg]
One, two, three and to the fo'
Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre are at the do'
Ready to make an entrance, so back on up
(Cause you know we 'bout had to rip shit up)
Gimme the microphone first, so I can bust like a bubble
Compton and Long Beach together, now you know you in trouble
Ain't nothin' but a G thang, baaaaabay!
Two loc'ed out G's so we're craaaaazay!
Death Row is the label that paaaaays me!
Unfadable, so please don't try to fade this (Hell yeah)
But, uh, back to the lecture at hand
Perfection is perfected, so I'm 'a let 'em understand
From a young G's perspective
And before me dig out a bitch I have ta' find a contraceptive
You never know she could be earnin' her man,
And learnin' her man, and at the same time burnin' her man
Now you know I ain't wit that shit, Lieutenant
Ain't no pussy good enough to get burnt while I'm up in it
(yeah) Now that's realer than real-deal Holyfield
And now all you hookas and ho's know how I feel
Well if it's good enough to get broke off a proper chunk
I'll take a small piece of some of that funky stuff
Hook: Snoop Doggy Dogg
It's like this and like that and like this and uh
It's like that and like this and like that and uh
It's like this and like that and like this and uh
Dre, creep to the mic like a phantom
[Dr. Dre]
Well I'm peepin', and I'm creepin', and I'm creep-in'
But I damn near got caught, 'cause my beeper kept beepin'
Now it's time for me to make my impression felt
So sit back, relax, and strap on your seatbelt
You never been on a ride like this befo'
With a producer who can rap and control the maestro
At the same time with the dope rhyme that I kick
You know, and I know, I flow some ol funky shit
To add to my collection, the selection
Symbolizes dope, take a toke, but don't choke
If ya' do, ya' have no clue
O' what me and my homey Snoop Dogg came to do
Hook: Snoop Doggy Dogg & Dr. Dre
It's like this and like that and like this and uh
It's like that and like this and like that and uh
It's like this, and we ain't got no love for those
So jus' chill, 'til the next episode
[Snoop Doggy Dogg]
Fallin' back on that ass with a hellified gangsta' lean
Gettin' funky on the mic like a' old batch o' collard greens
It's the capital S, oh yes, the fresh N-double O-P
D-O-double G-Y D-O-double G ya' see
Showin' much flex when it's time to wreck a mic
pimpin' ho's and clockin' a grip like my name was Dolomite
Yeah, and it don't quit
I think they in a mood for some mothafuckin' G shit
So Dre. (What up Dogg?)
We gotta give 'em what dey want (What's that, G?)
We gotta break 'em off somethin' (Hell yeah)
And it's gotta be bumpin' (City of Compton!)
[Dr. Dre]
It's where it takes place so I'm a ask your attention
Mobbin like a mothafucka but I ain't lynchin
Droppin' the funky shit that's makin the sucka niggaz mumble
When I'm on the mic, it's like a cookie, they all crumble
Try to get close, and your ass'll get smacked
My mothafuckin homie Doggy Dogg has my back
Never let me slip, 'cause if I slip, then I'm slippin'
But if I got my Nina, then you know I'm straight trippin'
And I'm a continue to put the rap down, put the mack down
And if your bitches talk shit, I have ta' put the smack down
Yeah, and ya' don't stop
I told you I'm just like a clock when I tick and I tock
But I'm never off, always on, 'til the break dawn
C-O-M-P-T-O-N, and the city they call Long Beach
Puttin' the shit together
Like my nigga D.O.C., no one can do it better
Hook: Dr. Dre & Snoop Doggy Dogg
Like this, that and this and uh
It's like that and like this and like that and uh
It's like this, and we ain't got no love for those
So jus' chill, 'til the next episode



Artist: 2Pac f/ Dru Down, Nate Dogg, Outlawz, Snoop Doggy Dogg
Album: All Eyez On Me
Song: All Bout U
Typed by: dj.flash@pobox.com

[2Pac] Ahh yeah
[Down] Yeauhh!
[2Pac] It's all about you, one time!
[Down] I'ma say it's all about you baby, yeah
[2Pac] Haha, for the bitches that think it's all about you
It's all about you
[Down] This Dru Down in the house, with my boy 'Pizznac
YouknowhatI'msayin?
[2Pac] It's all about you
[Down] Yeah I'm gon' say it's all about you
but you know I'm lyin though, hah! Yeauhh

[2Pac]
You probably crooked as the last trick; want it light
but how I got my ass caught up with this bad bitch
Thinkin I had her but she had me in the long run
It's just my luck I'm stuck with fuckin with the wrong one, uh!
Wise decisions, based on lies we livin
Scandalous times, this game's like my religion
You could be rollin with a thug
Instead you with this weak scrub, lookin for some love
In every club, I see you starin like you want it
Well baby if you got it better flaunt it
Let the liquor help you get up on it
I'm still tipsy from last night
Bumpin these walls as I pause, addicted to the fast life
I try to holla but you tell me you taken
Sayin you ain't impressed, with the money I'm makin
Guess it's true what they tellin me
Fresh out of jail, life's Hell for a black, celebrity
So that's the reason why I call, and maybe you widdit
Fantansies of us sweatin, can I hit it? (Hahaha)
Addicted to the things you do, but still true
What I'm sayin Boo, is this is all about you

[Nate Dogg]
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe
(Yeah nigga, ha ha ha ha!)
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe

[2Pac]
I make a promise if you go with me, just let me know
I'll have you hollerin my name out before I leave
Nobody loves me I'm a thug nigga; I only hung out
with the criminals and the drug dealers, I love niggaz
cause we comin from the same place
Witness me holla at a hoochie, see how quick, the game takes
How can I tell her I'm a playa, and I don't even care
Creep though, weed smoke's into the air
Everywhere I go, it's all about the groupie hoes
waitin for niggaz at the end, of every show
I just seen you in my friend's, video
Could never put a bitch before my friends, so here we go
Follow the leader and peep the drama that I'm goin through..
It's all about you.. hahaha, yeah nigga!
It's all about you!

[Nate Dogg]
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe

[Outlawz]
Is you sick from the dick, or is it the flu?
It ain't about you or your bitch ass crew
Every other city we go and every video
Explain to a nigga why I see the same shitty hoe
You think it's all about you? Well Boo
I gets Down like Dru and my nasty new niggaz, too

You couldn't hold me back, it'd take a fatter track
A lyrical attack, perhaps, it was a visual bluff
When I started to snaps all your rode 'em swoll
Straight in control, flows'll fold, while hoes cold stroll
Hold the set, I told Dramacy' go in next
Golddiggin, cold diggin a gold Rolex

I slide in easily, try a grizzly
Sluts know the cuts, I came to fuck, try skeezin me
Runnin up in ya just like Bruce Jenner when I bend ya
At the most, I fucked a bitch from the West Coast to West Virginia

[Nate Dogg]
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
(It's all about you)
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe
Every other city we go, every other vi-de-o
No matter where I go, I see the same hoe

[Snoop Doggy Dogg *speaking over last two lines*]
I'm tellin ya, it's the same ol' shit
I mean.. god damn, youknowhatI'msayin?
I'm sittin back, watchin Montell Jordan video
I see the same bitch, who was in, my homeboy Nate Dogg video
Then I flip the channel
I'm checkin out my homeboy Tupac video
I see the same bitch that was in my video, yaknahmsayin?
And then yaknahmsayin what make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watchin a Million Man March
And I see the same bitch, on the Million Man March
that was in, the homeboy Warren G video!
I mean, damn, everywhere I look, everywhere I go
I see the same hoe
Don't get mad, I'm only bein real
Yeah


Artist: Jay-Z f/ U.G.K.
Album: Vol. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter
Song: Big Pimpin'


* this is the album version, the VIDEO has an extra verse

[Jay-Z]
Uhh, uh uh uh
It's big pimpin baby..
It's big pimpin, spendin G's
Feel me.. uh-huh uhh, uh-huh..
Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah
Ge-ge-geyeah, geyeah..

You know I - thug em, fuck em, love em, leave em
Cause I don't fuckin need em
Take em out the hood, keep em lookin good
But I don't fuckin feed em
First time they fuss I'm breezin
Talkin bout, "What's the reasons?"
I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch
Better trust than believe em
In the cut where I keep em
til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts
Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up
Let em play with the dick in the truck
Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs
Divorce him and split his bucks
Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread
so you can be livin it up? Shit I..
parts with nothin, y'all be frontin
Me give my heart to a woman?
Not for nothin, never happen
I'll be forever mackin
Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion
I got no patience
And I hate waitin..
Hoe get yo' ass in
And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now
RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah
And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now
RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah

Chorus One: Jay-Z

We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin G's
Check em out now
Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s
We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B
Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin G's
We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s
We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B

[Bun B]
Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario
Comin straight up out the black bar-rio
Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe
Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario
No I can't fuck a scary hoe
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go
Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!"
Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit
We don't pull it out over little shit
And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit
Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab
Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me
and you see us comin down on yo' slab
Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it
But nigga if you hatin I
then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked, just break it
You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs of clothes on
Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the track
Timbaland let me spit my pro's on
Pump it up in the pro-zone
That's the track that we breakin these hoes on
Ain't the track that we flow's on
But when shit get hot, then the glock start poppin like ozone
We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man
Fo' real it don't get no bigger man
Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the flip
Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man, fool

Chorus Two: Bun B

We be.. big pimpin, spendin G's
We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s
We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B
Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin G's
And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s
Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T.
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B.. nigga

[Pimp C]
Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all
If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin Mercedes
Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until whitey pay me
Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys
Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin noise


Artist: Busta Rhymes
Album: Genesis
Song: Break Ya Neck
Typed by: bootleg210@msn.com

[Busta Rhymes]
Yea.. Check it out, see
The only thing you need to do right here is,
Is nod your fuckin head
Yeah, yeah
Break ya fuckin neck bitches
Yeah, yeah
Here we go now..

Where we goin now?
Where we goin now?
Give it away, give it away, give it away now
Give it away, give it away, give it away now
Just give it away nigga
Yeah, here we go now

[Verse 1]
Tell me wat'chu really wanna do (Come here ma)
Talk to a nigga, talk with me
You look like you could really give it to a nigga,
from the way you talk and the way ya try to walk for me
The way you really try to put it on a dawg
Threw ya hips like ya never did before for me
The way you break yo' back, and I break yo' neck,
and the way you try to put it on the floor for me
(Come on!) Come on (Come on!) Oh yeah
Tell me where my niggas is at (Ok!!)
Lemme address y'all niggas one time,
while I lock that down, and I hit'cha wit that (YOU GONE!)
That bomb shit, y'all niggas gone all day
Be the nigga in the drop,
Y'all niggas know every time I come through,
this motherfucker, where we always takin the ride
(So let me do this bitch)
Y'all niggas know when we come, we be makin it flop,
the way we makin it hot'll make a nigga wanna stop... {*pause*}
Get money, then cash that check for me
All my niggas just bust yo' tech for me
Everybody from every hood bang yo' head,
'til you break your motherfuckin head for me!

[Chorus]
Just let me give you real street shit,
to ride in yo' shit with
Recline yo' seat, rewind this heat
Keep bouncin up and down these streets
So nod yo' head and
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Bang yo' head until you start to
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck!

[Verse 2]
Come along now (Let's put it down nigga!)
When I bounce back and you know I done caught my breath,
y'all niggas all know how we do,
when the way we bang niggas in the head, and we do it to death
(Reach fo' dem backwoods!) The fire boy, you know we bakin a ounce
I know you love the way we be givin you the music, makin you bounce
Now fuck it up just a little for my niggas,
everytime we come through niggas know that we did it for y'all (Uh-huh)
And the way we do it for the people,
niggas know we always give it to y'all
I said bounce (Come on!)
In the day time or the night, when ya creepin along,
Well just bang this shit up in the truck,
while you break yo' neck, now motherfucker try to figure my flow
See the way we come right through (When we come right through!)
We be always blowin the spot, again and again,
and make a nigga really wanna STOP... {*pause*}
Better tell yo' crew, yo' peeps,
all my niggas better put they troops on
And gather up your soldiers nigga,
you know you better keep yo' boots on
All my niggas in the place (Aiyyo!)
Wave your hands high now, and the way we put it down,
make a nigga wonder what he really gonna try now
What'cha really wanna do?
Just place your bet, and put'cha money where ya mouth is (Ah-hoo)
All my niggas in the street just break yo' neck and keep on boun-cin!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Here we go, and you know everytime Busta-Bus be holdin the fort,
my nigga watch how we shuttin it down,
The way we put it on, comin through like a steamroller,
me and Dre nigga ain't no fuckin around
My nigga (WHAT!) Yeah whattup,
Me and my team got a link cuz you know we stay choppin it up
And when get up in the club,
or how my niggas at the bar how we lockin it up
And we get a little (High!) And we get a little (Drunk!)
And we get a little (Crunk! Come on!)
Lemme give y'all niggas some shit,
that'll make you wanna bang this out yo' trunk (Come on!)
Get money, then cash that check for me
All my niggas just bust yo' tech for me
Everybody from every hood, bang yo' head,
'til you break yo' motherfuckin neck for me!



Artist: Dr. Dre f/ Eminem
Album: Dr. Dre 2001
Song: Forgot About Dre
[Dr Dre]
Ya'll know me still the same ol' G
But I been low key
Hated on by most these niggas
Wit no cheese, no deals and no G's, no wheels and no keys
No boats, no snowmobiles and no ski's
Mad at me cause
I can finally afford to provide my family wit groceries
Got a crib wit a studio and it's all full of tracks
To add to the wall full of plaques
Hangin up in the office in back of my house like trophies
But ya'll think I'm gonna let my dough freeze
Ho Please
You better bow down on both knees
Who you think taught you to smoke trees
Who you think brought you the o' G's
Eazy-E's Ice Cube's and D.O.C's and Snoop D O double G's
And a group that said muthafuck the police
Gave you a tape full of dope beats
The bomb weed stroll through in you hood
And when your album sales wasn't doin too good
Who's the doc that he told you to go see
Ya'll better listen up closely
All you niggas that said that I turned pop
Or the Firm flop
ya'll are the reason Dre ain't been getting no sleep
So fuck ya'll all of ya'll
If ya'll don't like me blow me
Ya'll are gonna keep fuckin around wit me
And turn me back to the old me
[chorus] x2 [Eminem]
Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say
But nothin comes out when they move they lips
Just a buncha gibberish
And muthafuckas act like they forgot about Dre
[Eminem]
So what do you say to somebody you hate
Or anybody tryna bring trouble your way
Wanna resolve things in a bloodier way
Just study your tape of NWA.
One day I was walkin by
Wit a walkmen on
When I caught a guy givin me an awkward eye
And strangled him off in the parkin lot wit his Karl Kani
I don't give a fuck if it's dark or not
I'm harder than me tryna park a Dodge
But I'm drunk as fuck
Right next to a humungous truck in a two car garage
Hoppin out wit two broken legs tryna walk it off
Fuck you too bitch call the cops
I'ma kill you and them loud ass muthafuckin barkin dogs
And when the cops came through
Me and Dre stood next to a burnt down house
Wit a can full of gas and a hand full of matches
And still one found out
From here on out it's the Chronic 2
Startin today and tomorrows the new
And I'm still loco and nuts
To choke you to death wit a Charleston chew

Slim shady hotter then a set of twin babies
In a Mercedes Benz wit the windows up
And the temp goes up to the mid 80's
Callin men ladies
Sorry Doc but I been crazy
There is no way that you can save me
It's ok go with him Hailey
[chorus] x2
[Dr Dre]
If it was up to me
You muthafuckas would stop comin up to me
Wit your hands out lookin up to me
Like you want somethin free
When my last cd was out you wasn't bumpin me
But now that I got this little company
Everybody wanna come to me like it was some disease
But you won't get a crumb from me
Cause I'm from the streets of
I told em all
All them little gangstas
Who you think helped mold 'em all
Now you wanna run around and talk about guns
Like I ain't got none
What you think I sold 'em all
Cause I stay well off
Now all I get is hate mail all day sayin Dre fell off
What cause I been in the lab wit a pen and a pad
Tryna get this damn label off
I ain't havin that
This is the millenium of Aftermath
It ain't gonna be nothin after that
So give me one more platinum plaque and fuck rap
You can have it back
So where's all the mad rappers at
It's like a jungle in this habitat
But all you savage cats
Knew that I was strapped wit gats
When you were cuddled wit cabbage patch


Artist: Yung Wun, Snoop Dogg, Jadakiss, Scarface
Album: Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume Two
Song: WW III


[whispered]
Ruff Ryders, Ruff Ryders
Ryde or Die - Volume 2

(Tugboats.. ehh, it's over..)

[yelled]
Ahhh-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
It's the second time around motherfucker! (YESS!)
Volume 2 - Ryde or Die, BIATCH!
Gangsta nigga and we gon' rock this motherfucker, you dig me?
(Fo' sho' baby!) We the square root of the motherfuckin streets!
(Fo' sho' baby!) Double R, you cocksuckin sons of bitches!!
YEAH!!

[Swizz Beatz] (Snoop Dogg)
State yo' name gangsta (Big Snoop Dogg.. bow wow!)
Where you representin? (West coast)
You gon' hold it down? (Please believe it nigga)
Enough said then nigga (hold up.. BIATCH)

[Snoop Dogg]
Mmm, let's make this official
Shine yo' boots and load yo' pistols
Pull out yo best credentials cause thislll
be the official for the fictitial
Doggy Dogg and Big Swizzll, nigga blow the whistle
Smokin on some bomb-beeda secondhand smoke
will getcha, hitcha, and make you all get the picture
Dig this - when was the last time you seen me
posted up West coasted up and sippin on some Remi?
Believe me - it ain't easy been Deezy (nah it ain't)
wit these jealous rap niggaz and these punk ass breezies
Man - I couldn't remember what they told me
when I first came in the game but thangs done changed
Call it what you wanna, keep the heat up on it
East, Long Beach, California - spinnin like a 'Tona
Bangin on the corner, hot like a sauna
so you best to back up off me or I kick this ? on ya

[Swizz Beatz] (Yung Wun)
State yo' name yungsta (YUNG WUN!)
Where you representin? (ATL SHAWTY!!)
You gon' hold it down? (DAMN RIGHT!!!)
Well nuff said then (Ease up, nigga!)
(Man throw dem treys up!)

[Yung Wun]
Shorty pop a lot, actin like you got a lot
wit all that fake ice on his watch, this nigga wanna get got
Coming to my city wit all that hot shit and his fake ass click
I'ma put somethin in him and bust his wig, I'm on some thugged out shit
You better be strapped boy, how you love that boy, act boy
I'ma break yo back boy, wit a bat boy, where you at boy
Hold up I'm cold hearted; DAMN RIGHT, I get retarded
I'm a yung-un and down here, bitch I'm the hardest
You can hoot, hide and talk that shit
I'ma stay low, keep it real and sho' to come up
But when I bite you gone feel that there, it's real down here
Watch your mouth boy, you might get killed down here
I'm a Ryde or Die nigga, put somethin in your eye nigga
Get beside yourself it's bye bye nigga
When it come to glock cockin and drop poppin
I'm the first to hit the block and go to war wit the cops fuck nigga

[Swizz Beatz] (Scarface)
State yo' name gangsta (Scarface)
Where you representin? (Motherfuckin South)
You gon' hold it down? (You God damn right)
Enough said then nigga

[Scarface]
Heidi-hoe! Scarface and Don, pullin the strings to your alarm
Bringin terror wit this beretta, I clutch in my palm
I'm scarin motherfuckers straight wit mine
Guerilla tactics, guranteein my enemy die
It's worldwide army alert for all soliders
Either you Ruff Ryde, Ryde Ruff, or roll over
It's a stick up, so down on yo knees, cause I'm sicker
Don't disrepect it, you don't disrespect me nigga
I'm the one these niggaz call on; when negotiations are halted,
and the time comes for the beatin of the bosses
Make 'em an offer that can't refuse
They don't comply, well now I'm bout to stank these fools
Fool, I guess these niggaz think they can't be moved
Realizie they don't scare niggaz like they thank they do
You fuck wit me, I gots to fuck wit you
World War 3 motherfucker, I thought you knew

[Swizz Beatz] (Scarface)
State yo' name gangsta (Jadakiss nigga)
Where you representin? (East coast dawg)
You gon' hold it down? (Why wouldn't I?)
Enough said then nigga (Let's go)
(Let's go)

[Jadakiss]
If you fuckin wit the 'Kiss, you ain't gon' breathe
The only time I lick in the air is New Year's Eve
Sonny from "Bronx Tale," you can't leave
Get kissed on yo' cheek then you meant to die
Cause when the gun start poppin then my temperature rise
You know my style; 20 niggaz wit 40 Cals
Nine years ago you was hollerin shorty wild
Now I'm in the rap game twistin these honies out
Never left the crack game still on a money route
I run through the industry looking for enemies
Y'all niggaz sound sick and Jada the remedy
Get shot in yo' eyes and mouth
Can't see can't talk when you fuckin wit the heart of New York
And that's fouler that swallowin pork
And to fuck wit the feds dog
you know I push the prowler to court
Toast on my lap, got the East Coast on my back, UH

[Swizz Beatz]
How many times must I tell you motherfuckers
We ain't industry niggaz
We in-the-STREETS, niggaz - you motherfuckin right!
Ruff Ryders forever, yeah bitch - now what?

[all together]
Ryde.. or.. Die.. you talk it, we live it (East COAST!)
So Ryde.. or.. Die.. you want it, we give it (West COAST!)
So Ryde.. or.. Die.. you start it, we end it (Dirty SOUTH!)
So Ryde.. or.. Die.. you talk it, we live it (Mid WEST!)
So Ryde.. or.. Die.. you want it, we give it (Ruff RYDERS!)
So Ryde.. or.. Die.. you start it, we end it (Biatch!)

[ad libs for 8 seconds]

[Swizz Beatz]
Yeah, Double R motherfuckers - Ruff Ryders!


Artist: Wu-Tang Clan
Album: Wu-Tang Forever
Song: Triumph

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
What y'all thought y'all wasn't gon' see me?
I'm the Osirus of this shit
Wu-Tang is here forever, motherfucker
It's like this ninety-seven
Aight my niggaz and my niggarettes
Let's do it like this
I'ma rub your ass in the moonshine
Let's take it back to seventy-nine

[Inspectah Deck]
I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies
and hypothesis can't define how I be droppin these
mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me
Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits
tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics
I inspect you, through the future see millenium
Killa B's sold fifty gold sixty platinum
Shacklin the masses with drastic rap tactics
Graphic displays melt the steel like blacksmiths
Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more
Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly
Proceeds to blow swingin swords like Shinobi
Stomp grounds and pound footprints in solid rock
Wu got it locked, performin live on your hottest block

[Method Man]
As the world turns, I spread like germs
Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn
It's my testament to those burned
Play my position in the game of life, standin firm
on foreign land, jump the gun out the fryin pan, into the fire
Transform into the Ghostrider, a six-pack
and +A Streetcar Named Desire+, who got my back?
In the line of fire holdin back, what?
My peoples if you with me where the fuck you at?
Niggaz is strapped, and they tryin to twist my beer cap
It's court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm
Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood
clot, we smoke pot, and blow spots
You wanna think twice, I think not
The Iron Lung ain't got ta tell you where it's coming from
Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone
Rip through your slums

[Cappadonna]
I twist darts from the heart, tried and true
Loop my voice on the LP, martini on the slang rocks
Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talkin
Tell your story walkin
Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother, kid
Run for your team, and your six camp rhyme groupies
So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted
My deadly notes reigns supreme
Your fort is basic compared to mine
Domino effect, arts and crafts
Paragraphs contain cyanide
Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion
catalogues for all y'all to all praise to the Gods

[Ol Dirty Bastard]
The saga continues
Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang

[U-God]
Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet
The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat
We crush slow, flamin deluxe slow
For, judgment day cometh, conquer, it's war
Allow us to escape, hell glow spinning bomb
Pocket full of shells out the sky, Golden Arms
Tune spit the shitty Mortal Kombat sound
The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground
A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum
A death kiss, catwalk, squeeze another anthem
Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics
My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas
My music Sicily, rich California smell
An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well
I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippin on ginseng
Righteous wax chaperone, rotating ring king

[RZA]
Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-Cypher-Punks couldn't hold us
A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga was sober
Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare
Escape from your Dragon's Lair, in particular
My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine
to the top of your cerebrum cortex
Make you feel like you bust a nut from raw sex
Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream
now terminal, like Grand Central Station
Program fat baselines, on Novation
Getting drunk like a fuck, I'm duckin five-year probation

[GZA]
War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous
Many of the victim family save they ashes
A million names on walls engraved in plaques
Those who went back, received penalties for the axe
Another heart is torn as close ones mourn
Those who stray, niggaz get slayed on the song

[Masta Killa]
The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds
and leaks sounds that's heard
ninety-three million miles away from came one
to represent the Nation, this is a gathering
of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan
As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage
The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage
Light is provided through sparks of energy
from the mind that travels in rhyme form
Givin sight to the blind
The dumb are mostly intrigued by the drum
Death only one can save self from
This relentless attack of the track spares none

[Ghostface Killah]
Yo! Yo! Yo, fuck that, look at all these crab niggaz laid back
Lampin like them gray and black Puma's on my man's rack
Codeine was forced in your drink
You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you scream
You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb
Blowin like Shalamar in eighty-one
Sound convincin, thousand dollar court by convention
Hands, like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the fuck up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
it's me, black nobled you Ali
Came in threes we like the Genovese, is that so?
Caesar needs the greens, it's Earth
Ninety-three million miles from the first
Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the megahertz

[Raekwon]
Aiyyo that's amazing, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul hawk
Connect thoughts to make my manchild walk
Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser
New York Yank' visor world tranquilizer
Just a dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives
While, my pen blow lines ferocious
Mediterranean, see y'all, the number one draft pick
Tear down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God
The swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula
Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala
Max mostly, undivided, then slide in, sickenin
Guaranteed, made em jump like Rod Strickland


Artist: Snoop Dogg
Album: Doggystyle
Song: Gin and Juice
Intro: Dre
*man pissing*
Heah hah hah!
I'm serious nigga one of y'all niggaz got this ass motherfuckin up
Aiy baby, aiy baby... aiy baby get some bubblegum in this motherfucker
Steady long, steady long nigga
Verse One: Snoop

With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin)
So what you wanna do, sheeeit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah!
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this
Chorus: repeat 2X
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]
Verse Two:
Now, that, I got me some Seagram's gin
Everybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in
Now this types of shit, happens all the time
You got to get yours but fool I gotta get mine
Everything is fine when you listenin to the D-O-G
I got the cultivating music that be captivating he
who listens, to the words that I speak
As I take me a drink to the middle of the street
and get to mackin to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)
She used to be the homeboy's lady (Oh, that bitch)
Eighty degrees, when I tell that bitch please
Raise up off these N-U-T's, cause you gets none of these
At ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound, feel the breeze
beeeitch, I'm just
Chorus
Verse Three:
Later on that day
My homey Dr. Dre came through with a gang of Tanqueray
And a fat ass J, of some bubonic chronic that made me choke
Shit, this ain't no joke
I had to back up off of it and sit my cup down
Tanqueray and chronic, yeah I'm fucked up now
But it ain't no stoppin, I'm still poppin
Dre got some bitches from the city of Compton
To serve me, not with a cherry on top
Cause when I bust my nut, I'm raisin up off the cot
Don't get upset girl, that's just how it goes
I don't love you hoes, I'm out the do'
And I'll be

Chorus
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice (beeotch!!)
Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]
Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice (beeotch!!)
Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]


Artist: Ludacris
Album: Word of Mouf
Song: Rollout (My Business)

Roll out!

[repeat 6x]
Roll out! Roll out! Roll out! Roll out!

[Chorus - "roll out!" in background]
I got my twin glock .40's, cocked back
Me and my homies, so drop that
We rollin on twenties, with the top back
So much money, you can't stop that
Twin glock .40's, cocked back
Me and my homies, so drop that
We rollin on twenties, with the top back
So much money, you can't stop that

[Ludacris]
Now where'd you get that platinum chain with them diamonds in it?
Where'd you get that matchin Benz with them windows tinted?
Who dem girls you be with when you be ridin through?
Man I ain't got nothin to prove, I paid my dues
Breakin the rules, I shake fools while I'm takin a CRUISE!
Tell me who's your weed man, and how do you smoke so good?
You'se a superstar boy, why you still up in the hood?
What in the world is in that BAG, what you got in that BAG?
A couple a cans of whoop ass, you did a good-ass job
of just eyein me, spyin me

[Chorus]

[Ludacris]
Man, that car don't come out until next year
Where in the fuck did you get it?
That's eighty-thousand bucks GONE!
Where in the fuck did you spend it?
You must have eyes on your back, cause you got money to the ceiling
And the bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin
The better I'm feelin, the more that I'm chillin
Willin, drillin and killin the feelin
Now who's that bucked-naked cook fixin three-course meals?
Gettin goosebumps when her body tap the six inch heels
What in the world is in that ROOM, what you got in that ROOM?
A couple a gats, a couple of knives
A couple of rats, a couple of wives, now it's time to choose

[Chorus]

[Ludacris]
Are you custom-made, custom-paid, or you just custom-fitted?
Playstation 2 up in the ride and is that Lorenzo-kitted?
Is that your wife, your girlfriend or just yo; main bitch?
You take a pick, while I'm rubbin the hips
touchin lips to the top of the dick and then WHOOO!
Now tell me who's your housekeeper and what you keep in yo' house?
What about diamonds and gold, is that what you keep in yo' mouth?
What in the world is in that CASE, what you got in that CASE?
Get up out my face, you couldn't relate, wait to take place
at a similar pace so shake, shake it

[Chorus]

[Ludacris]
Get out my business, my biznass
Stay the fuck up out my biznass, ah
Cause these niggaz all up in my shit
and it's my business, my biznass
Stay the fuck up out my biznass
cause it's mine, all mine
My business, my biznass
Stay the fuck up out my biznass
Cause these niggaz all up in my shit
and it's my business, my biznass
Stay the fuck up out my biznass
cause it's mine, all mine

Ahh ahh, Timbaland, Ludacris
Disturbin' Tha Peace, whoo!


Artist: Notorious B.I.G. f/ Lil' Kim, Puff Daddy
Album: Born Again
Song: Notorious B.I.G.


[Notorious B.I.G.]
Yo, check it
Call Lil' Cease
Tell that muh'fucker to bring me some muh'fuckin weed for this hospital
man fuck that
Tell that reporter to go pick up ten thousand from Dez
and go take about like twenty G's from Gino
Tell that muh'fucker get this nigga next door up out of here
Nigga be snorin all night I can't sleep (hehe)
Call that big butt nurse with the long hair to come suck my dick
(Bad Boy Big, c'mon)

The doctor said I need about three weeks of recovery
but the nurses is lovin me
Sayin the best part of the day is my half
Feedin me breakfast, and givin me a sponge bath
Niggaz say I died dead in the streets
Nigga I'm gettin high, gettin head on the beach
Chillin, sittin on about half a million
With all my niggaz, all my guns, all my women
Next two years, I should see about a billion
All for the love of drug dealin
Got no love for the other side, fuck them tricks (fuck them)
Any repercussion, Junior M.A.F.I.A. spit clips (that's right)
All the time, Big Poppa kick the war rhymes
Raw flows, and that's how it goes

[Puff Daddy]
NOTORIOUS!
C'mon.. we are, we are
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
He is.. he is..
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!

This for my niggaz slingin thangs, had my ring encaged
Truck, necklace, igloo ring and things
For the bitches, who see them rims spin and grin
That shit with the V-trim that win
and the enormous fields disperse of rap
On the road to the riches more furs to drag
More niggaz to kill, than birds to bag
Hit the jeweler and splurge the tab, uh
Hops, out the truck like, "Trick, what up?"
Call me Sean if you suck, call me gone when I nut
That's the end of us, get your friend to fuck
Untwist and bend her up, you know the deal
Niggaz talkin real greasy on some ballin shit (that's right)
Funny how quick these pricks forget
Actin like I ain't the reason they traded they shit
Switched that 5, copped that 6 (that's right)
It's all good, you know who the clone is
Fuck the Joneses, niggaz tryin to keep up with the Combses

[Puff Daddy]
C'mon y'all..
NOTORIOUS!
We are, we are .. (what's his name)
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
He is, he is.. (c'mon, what's his name?)
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!

[Lil' Kim]
Who that queen bitch, keep her glass filled to the rim?
The Notorious K-I to the M
That's me, on MTV, no doubt
Titty out like what - I don't give a fuck!
Y'all know my attitude, can't stand my cologne
Then stay your ass home, you and your chaperone
Things done changed, but we continue to reign
as the King and the Queen of hip-hop, me and B.I.
Frank White still listen to all the (a)'ttention
I'm by his side, with the chrome fifth, playin my position
Sexy, young thing, from the ghetto
That bitch rockin mics in high heel stilletos
We takin over like Francis
Switchin our styles like the hottest new dancers
See, I let y'all live to stack a LITTLE paper
Be glad I pushed my album back, I did y'all hoes a favor!

[Puff Daddy]
She did you a favor, c'mon now, yeah
NOTORIOUS!
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
He is, he is.. (c'mon, what's his name?)
Bad Boy baby, D.R. c'mon
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
We are, we are ..
Queen Bee baby, we are, c'mon
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
He is, he is.. (B.I.G. baby, he is c'mon)
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
We are, we are ..
Bad Boy 2000
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
B.I.G. Born Again (he is.. he is..)
and he won't stop
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
cause he can't stop, yeah, uh-huh
We are, we are.. (Brooklyn baby)
NO, NO, NO, NOTORIOUS!
He is, he is..


Artist: Raekwon the Chef f/ Method Man
Album: Immobilarity
Song: Fuck Them


Method Man:
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Fuck you

Chorus: 2x
What you wanna be when you grow up
You wanna be thugs
You wanna be pranksters
You wanna sell drugs
You wanna be gangsters
Thats what silly boys are made of

Raekwon:
Aiyyo, aiyyo
Cool G's and forty seven flavors
Display swade gators
We comin through
To blaze neighbors
Meet mark and pardon me to heat mark
A dutch spark it
Lex Leonardo arts profit
Apple cranberry mixed with crystal
Fan worry
Desert mountain crib in the ground
We arsonists
One point five a liter
Take a taste
Splash your heater
Smack your face twice
Clap your sneakers
Shit is like a mission to Mars
Fishin' for bars
Takin' whats ours
Knowledge the car Pa
Dont be stupid
Get a little cash
Better swoop it
Throw it in the ground and recoup it
Next check was best
Your family pack your shit
Get vexed
Leave a nigga standing in a bag of leaves
Some niggas catch on later
Try to put them on they haters
I met eighty of them niggas yo
Waitin' on the sidelines droolin'
Some need schoolin'
Let me teach yo
And roll a student what
Rule one
Yo respect if you lose son
Dont be big back about to learn to move dunn
All hell to niggas in jails
With sharks in they fishtanks
Now he come home he a whale
Wolves in the projo's, projo's yo
We realer up in my shows yo
Middle finger five O's
Take time to climb vines yo
Lay on the lines
Like Laury only lovin' Rae kind
Sun splash cash layin like three bags of hash
Fully wrapped in a indian man's stash

Method Man:
Aiyyo

Chorus: 2x

Raekwon:
Aiyyo, get up
Lex should be braggin'
Get it up
Fuck shorty got cream in a mean truck
Prop-ness she hollar like the Loch Ness
He large rock this
Fresh Ferrari in a drop six
Fro's
Yo talkin about the dough on his clothes
Glaze is crushed up pokin on rolls yo
Oh yeah and maybe gettin' cream
See what I mean black queen
Stop actin' like crack fiends an'
Brawl we wanna thank all of y'all
Play the wall hype
Checkin how this lady walks stay hawkin'
Grab the remain, divorce (Uh)
Shame came to yours
We like green
Rock the same gameplan, ours (Yo, Yo)

Method Man;
Ladies and gentlemen
Your about to see
A pastime hobby about to be
Takin' to the next degree
By M-E-TH and the bloody Chef Boyardee
Watch out bitches is too nosey
Backhand slappin' the phoney
Got to walk it off can't mosey
Who got you open up
Crack pipe still smokin'
Face frozen
Coke straw stickin' out your nose and D
Proposin' that you bleed on the Chef apron
My thing hold down the play-pen
And say the nursery rhymes they makin
Come on now
Shits too real
Fuck you and now your man feel
Time don't stand still for y'all bitches
Wanna Big Ball
I got two for you to juggle in your jizzals
Im losin' it now
Throw in the pieces like a jig-saw
Aiyyo
She multi-colored like a rainbow
Mr. Meth and the Cuban Link kiddo
On tracks we connect, politic ditto
Take that to that