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Lyrics

BROCKHAMPTON – J’OUVERT lyrics

Take it all or leave it
I feel you

[Verse 1: Matt Champion]
When there’s a rough patch, don’t eye for the parachute
They goin’ AWOL the second that the light goes on
This a treat ain’t it, soon as she hit the powder room
I pull it back and check my rose, and yeah, I’m ’bout to bloom
It’s that ’90 raised from hell shit, parlay like when the lane switch
Combat how you feel, strobe light, I hit the killswitch
Neck twist like Exorcist, I’ma see you ’round
‘Cause tonight’s the night I’m losin’ all I’m doin’, I’m about this

[Chorus: Joba]
White cuffs, wood grain
Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank
White cuffs, wood grain
Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank, bank, bank, suitcase
On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank

[Verse 2: Joba]
‘Til the casket drops, I will play God
Fuck the world, let’s start a riot
Got too much too quick
God damn, I’m feeling sick, bitch, call the doctor
Don’t act like I ain’t been dead to ya’
Don’t act like I ain’t deserve this shit
Couldn’t last a day inside my head
That’s why I did the drugs I did
Got issues with these motherfuckers
Looking down from they pedestals
From that petty view, on that petty shit
Pray for peace with a knife in my hand
Speak my piece like a gun to my head
Come equipped just to blast this shit
Misunderstood since birth
Fuck what you think, and fuck what you heard
I feel betrayed, you can keep the praise
And all of the fuck shit, need to get away
Still ain’t got the fright to the fickle-minded people
I thought I knew better, wish I knew better
Should have known better, wish that I was better
At dealing with the fame and you fake motherfuckers
Guess I’m too real

[Interlude: Lavaman]
Excuse we, let we pass, rum is the gas
We ain’t play nice, little guy
Doh blame meh, blame di rum, no t—

[Verse 3: Merlyn Wood, Lavaman]
I be in my bag, (excuse we) goin’ in (let we pass)
Guess who isn’t built for this, man?
Me and my thugs built for this, man
We goin’ for the gifts and the grams
I be in my bag, (excuse we) goin’ in (let we pass)
Smokin’ all the grams in this bag
Man, you isn’t built for this, man
Run it like the gingerbread man
Fuck that shit, stay hydrated nigga
I’ma let that bitch go home, kiss my momma, wassup?
Wassup?
Black power fist hangin’ from my black ‘fro
Yo, she saw me in that cereal, she want to lick a Oreo, damn
Break the dam when I spit the flow
I’m on the lam like the fuckin’ wool
Hoppin’ out the van, I’m at Abbey Road
Fans with cameras in the bathroom, man that’s difficult
I just wanna smoke a Backwoods by my lovely self
Chill, watch numbers go up, book off the shelf
I found myself and put my face on a missing shirt
I dropped out with no promise that this shit would
(That this shit would work, work, work
Work, work, work, work)
(Work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work)

[Bridge: bearface]
With the dogs, in my ride know the doors suicide
Paranoid, do or die, you should know we never lie
With the dogs, in my ride, know the doors suicide
Paranoid, do or die, you should know we never lie
Pull up with the racks to your shop
Cop a medallion or 3, I’m the don
Zim, zim, zim out the bim, get shot
One mill, two mill, three, that’s a lot
Damn

[Chorus: Joba]
White cuffs, wood grain
Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank
White cuffs, wood grain
Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank, bank, bank, suitcase
On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank
On my way to the bank, bank, bank

Categories
Lyrics

D. Zulu – Enemy To The Good lyrics

[Intro]

They couldn’t see it comming,now they are running

[Verse 1]

I’m the reflection of the original inhibitors of the motherland
In my land I’m a criminal,Finding myself lost in the wonderland
Concerning thoughts circulating my mind circumference
Interference on my dreams like Freddy Krueger
People around me are scheming,All searching for the lucre
Like pirates on treasure quests,
Rest when they discover the chest
Put bullets in anyone’s chest like mafia hitmen on payroll
Crawl under shadows like a phantom,Then Imma strangle out of tantrum
I see people going AWOL,Crowded in the sanctum
Between my enemies I stroll, Picking the target at random
Handsomely banish the trolls to the Neverland Kingdom
It’s either me or remain in thrall and kept for ransom
Sprawling the death toll like in the city of Gomorrah and Sodom
Everybody knows I’m in control and owning everyone’s freedom
I assure you there’s no parole, Dodging the system is seldom
And I make all the calls guided by acient ken and wisdom

[Hook]

The good dislike me,All behind me
Pulling hat tricks,Move thru wormholes
Going ape-shit on monkey-ass rap fanatics,From the north to the south pole
They couldn’t see it comming,now they are running

[Verse 2]

My words gently bore minds like rocks across a curling sheet
The stars are aligned,Got people thinking I’m cheating
I guess they are spell-binded by hatred and full of deceit
I got them all left behind with bodies covered by bee stings
I’m used to being undermined but The passion is there,they see it
I know I’m one-of-a-kind,I can never honour defeat
Hawk-eyes on enemies blinded with violence,Come get a beating
The moves I make are undetermined,Got people worried when I’m spitting
Quitting is their option or play hard-still lose
And the only way to salvation is leaving the game with bruises
I can’t afford to lose concentration ’cause you snooze-you lose
Once you doubt my commotion,you can’t call it truce
The elimination of the opposition is eminent like that of Bruce
I got a strong satisfaction in putting people in place like screws
And the execution thru lightning like Zeus
Protecting anything in connection with me from these Beetlejuices

[Hook]

The good dislike me,All behind me
Pulling hat tricks,Move thru wormholes
Going ape-shit on monkey-ass rap fanatics,From the north to the south pole
They couldn’t see it comming,now they are running

[Outro]

The moves I make are undetermined,Got people worried when I’m spitting
Quitting is their option or play hard-still lose

Categories
Lyrics

Hopsin – The Purge

[Intro]
Watch me, (watch me)
Watch me, (watch me)
Watch, watch
Watch me, (watch me)
Watch me, (watch me)

[Chorus]
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Let’s go! 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, you gon’ see
Ain’t no thing, bitch, I’m on
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Yeah, 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, Prodigy
When I hit the track, bitch, I’m gone
I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone

[Verse 1]
Yeah, homie G, the cold emcee
Rollin’ deep through your vicinity (yo)
I just had an epiphany
I don’t know what it did to me
But I’m hopin’ the devil doesn’t get into me (woah)
I’m still a beast whose enemies finna be
Off the chain with a brand new delivery (yeah)
Try to get in my way, the feelin’ of rage
That sit in my brain, then I blast you to smithereens
Nigga please, I’ll be damned if I’m thrown on the back burner
Fuckin’ maniac purgin’, a rap server
The cat burglar who be committin’ mass murder
That’s word to the G.O.D.
Fuckin’ the game from the P.O.V.
Niggas beg and they plead on knees
There’ll be no peace, the D.O.G., I feed on beats
If niggas wanna die they can lean on me
No Bill Withers, U.P. I done built it up
You wishin’ you was on the field with us
I’m the ill nigga, no deal, look at me grill niggas
Fuckin’ with me then I will erupt
Still we must remain clam
Napalm in my dang palm
I’m a dark villain like Blade, Spawn or Akon with a cape on
It ain’t fun, you can’t run
This is the horror flick your life is based on
I ain’t gon’ say that I’m runnin’ shit
That’s the shit every rapper say and think about
Nigga, just go in and look at the bank account
I just don’t have enough patience to take it out
Niggas is hatin’ now, I don’t suffer from no paper drought
Always winning’s my favorite route
My whole life, I just lay it out
Being around me is a blessing so, boy, you should take a bow
Look!

[Pre-Chorus]
I’m ’bout to make this bitch jump
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
Take a look, take a look
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
I’m shuttin’ shit down
I’m ’bout to make this bitch jump
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
Check me out, check me out

[Chorus]
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Let’s go! 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, you gon’ see
Ain’t no thing, bitch, I’m on
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Yeah, 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, Prodigy
When I hit the track, bitch, I’m gone
I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone

[Verse 2]
Comin’ up, niggas said, "He can’t go far." (oh shit)
I cut through like a relay go-kart (woah)
I give it to you like a B-Day postcard
Killin’ shit with my nigga DJ Romar (yeah, yeah)
You know you made it when they claim you overrated
Flow is slayin’, cultivatin’
Way way back in the golden ages
Now I got hoes from here to Copenhagen
Like nigga, you don’t even know where that’s at
Bagbak ’cause I’m a class act of Mad Max
A mental hazmat lookin’ for a jackass to spaz at
I’m turnin’ you niggas into my lab rats
Hashtag, #FuckYouMan
And a dome piece with a nut and a bolt screwed in
Don’t care what cult you in
I’m AWOL like I’m D. Trump’s new plan
I be givin’ you some mo’ action, mo’ thrashin’
Old-fashioned ho slappin’, throat slashin’
Hittin’ you harder than a collision with a semi
Then wish you’ll bust and then you’ll throw past it
I’m the maniac in yo’ attic, nomadic, toe-taggin’
Ho, that’s my dick, you should blow at it!
I don’t really give a fuck about your feelings
You can cry me a river ’cause I’m a dog and you know that shit
Clearly there’s a devil on my shoulder with an angel
But they don’t go back and forth
We are all in agreement in knowin’ just what I am rappin’ for
Just smashin’ whores, give me ass galore
It’s all I’m askin’, Lord
I can fit the women inside of my black Accord
And we can speed through the night, unless I crash of course
I may need to see a psychiatric ward, so let’s go!

[Pre-Chorus]
I’m ’bout to make this bitch jump
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
Take a look, take a look
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
I’m shuttin’ shit down
I’m ’bout to make this bitch jump
(Watch me, watch me, watch me)
Check me out, check me out

[Chorus]
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Let’s go! 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, you gon’ see
Ain’t no thing, bitch, I’m on
Bitch, I’m kickin’ through the door!
Yeah, 8-18, H O P
Bet on me, Prodigy
When I hit the track, bitch, I’m gone
I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone

[Outro]
I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone
Yeah, yeah
Nigga, better tell these hoes I’m kickin’ through the door!

Categories
Lyrics

As Tall As Lions – Is This Tomorrow Lyrics

AS TALL AS LIONS
Is This Tomorrow Lyrics

The drought lives on
In minds that starve
As children grab their guns
And line up to die like dogs
And all our hallow headlines
Oh, they just prove to warn
A column in The Times read today,
“if you’re not confused then
You’re not well informed”

You don’t need to see something
To know it needs a change
It must be easy to believe in nothing
Turn around and walk away

The silence echoes
The joke is never grasped
God’s a comedian playing to
An audience too scared to laugh
The facts are AWOL
Oh every paper’s page
Every war’s exactly the same
And the differences are all in the names

You don’t have to see something
To know it needs a change
Must be easy to believe in nothing
Turn around and walk away
No one ever wins, it’s over when it begins
Something that you can’t escape

Is there really time for this?
Are there any songs worth singing?
I go back and forth for this
And leave it for another day

Categories
Lyrics

YO GOTTI – Castro lyrics

(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs (in the game)
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the Aloft
Head cool, but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top ropes
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went diamond
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon says nigga stop takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Categories
Lyrics

Yo Gotti – Castro lyrics

itemid=”http://www.directlyrics.com/yo-gotti-artist.html”>YO GOTTI Castro lyrics

(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs (in the game)
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the Aloft
Head cool, but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top ropes
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went diamond
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon says nigga stop takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Categories
Lyrics

Yo Gotti – Castro (feat. Kanye West, Quavo, Big Sean & 2 Chainz)

[Intro: Yo Gotti, Big Sean (Kanye West) & 2 Chainz]
(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti & Kanye West]
EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the A loft
Hair cool but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top row
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 3: 2 Chainz]
Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went dimin’
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon said, nigga start takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off