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Hip Hop Forums => General Discussion => Topic started by: Headwarmaz on October 14, 2008, 05:03:16 PM

Title: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on October 14, 2008, 05:03:16 PM
This is where we post the best lyrics in hip hop history...so we can show some of these kids what it's supposed to be like.... ya dig????
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on October 14, 2008, 05:14:20 PM
Lyra**ist Lounge

Artist: Typical Cats
Album: Typical Cats
Song: Cliche

(qwel)
See Qwels way past math to drop techs on future prospects
Never got toys like Christmas in the projects
Your rock sets is play this dude braggin' you aint famous
Tighter than vacuums and gets looser than faggots anus
Doper emcees none existent like RuPaul's clit is
Cant tell if your dick or pussy like topless infants
Couldn't spit sick 'ish kid lickin' your cold sores
And leave you scared to drop shit like school stalls with no doors
Wonder how this f***er whispers thunder sounds
Your fly like crippled Ostrich's I scare heads underground
And break it down like midget B-boys screamin' mathematics
When style switches faster than faggots rockin' their thongs backwards
Ask if I'll kill your career with one verse
You couldn't beat me to death if I let you jump first
He's a pussy on the low don't f*** with Philippine cuisine
Deeper than Mexican philosophy and Chevy submarines
What's he mean I think he means your whack beat
In fact I'm harder to catch than hailin' taxis with black peeps
Get in your a** so fast shit scabs when the cops come
Guilty as charged blowin' minds like Shanno(?) with shotguns
Hold nuts like padded rooms whack raps cant plead insanity
Just cause I stand over you don't mean you understand me
Man please I'm way to f***ing dope to be this humble
And knock you out the frame like Christmas pictures with your drunk uncle
Like f*** Qwel and his whole team those irrelevant flows
I'm diggin' in the crates and these (?????) on telephone poles
Hope I might choke your as whack as you white jokes
The only cat to drop lines like Samoans on tight ropes
Motherf***ers can't even respond what can he say
Cause after the battle he's more like "yo I ain't wanna win anyway "
And Qwel ain't shit like I ain't lose he ain't even rappin' right
Damn right I'm an a**hole you pussies ain't even half as tight
To and fro fluid flow you know I'm splittin' speakers
Try pressin' promos on boomerangs them shits is cheaper

*Sample*
(scratch) Punch Lines (scratch) Now'n days it's the ways of the underground
If I don't stay on the rest(?) tell me who the hell will
When it really comes down to it two kids
*Sample*

Before braggin' how big my dick was this Bic-smudged note pad
Was dad to whip his a** and change his whole fad
Now its proud to be the loudest so what you damage mics
Battle cats claim to be deep just cause they seen Titanic twice
You can and might say something worthwhile you'd rather be wild
Huge dick liar's I'd rather teach with freestyles
Entertainment got played quick no thanks bitch dick
f*** my kids don't need your playground education content not sayin' shit
Master the art of momma jokes while flippin' used beats
Ill teach your kids about god they'll kill you when you sleep
Don't be role models be honest using loose leaf loosely
The same cats that's hatin' Puffy they be chasin' lucci
You wasn't preachin' beat before tellin' lies in the street
Keep it rough neck I'll flip subjects success mean getting sleep
Don't take it out on us cause the love wasn't there
Hip-Hop will show you love but the world doesn't care
About you big dick sick shit lunatic drug abuse kid
I've got some herb and words to give now lets make some music
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Mad on October 14, 2008, 05:30:31 PM
Lyra**ist Lounge

Artist: Typical Cats
Album: Typical Cats
Song: Cliche

(qwel)
See Qwels way past math to drop techs on future prospects
Never got toys like Christmas in the projects
Your rock sets is play this dude braggin' you aint famous
Tighter than vacuums and gets looser than faggots anus
Doper emcees none existent like RuPaul's clit is
Cant tell if your dick or pussy like topless infants
Couldn't spit sick 'ish kid lickin' your cold sores
And leave you scared to drop shit like school stalls with no doors
Wonder how this f***er whispers thunder sounds
Your fly like crippled Ostrich's I scare heads underground
And break it down like midget B-boys screamin' mathematics
When style switches faster than faggots rockin' their thongs backwards
Ask if I'll kill your career with one verse
You couldn't beat me to death if I let you jump first
He's a pussy on the low don't f*** with Philippine cuisine
Deeper than Mexican philosophy and Chevy submarines
What's he mean I think he means your whack beat
In fact I'm harder to catch than hailin' taxis with black peeps
Get in your a** so fast shit scabs when the cops come
Guilty as charged blowin' minds like Shanno(?) with shotguns
Hold nuts like padded rooms whack raps cant plead insanity
Just cause I stand over you don't mean you understand me
Man please I'm way to f***ing dope to be this humble
And knock you out the frame like Christmas pictures with your drunk uncle
Like f*** Qwel and his whole team those irrelevant flows
I'm diggin' in the crates and these (?????) on telephone poles
Hope I might choke your as whack as you white jokes
The only cat to drop lines like Samoans on tight ropes
Motherf***ers can't even respond what can he say
Cause after the battle he's more like "yo I ain't wanna win anyway "
And Qwel ain't shit like I ain't lose he ain't even rappin' right
Damn right I'm an a**hole you pussies ain't even half as tight
To and fro fluid flow you know I'm splittin' speakers
Try pressin' promos on boomerangs them shits is cheaper

*Sample*
(scratch) Punch Lines (scratch) Now'n days it's the ways of the underground
If I don't stay on the rest(?) tell me who the hell will
When it really comes down to it two kids
*Sample*

Before braggin' how big my dick was this Bic-smudged note pad
Was dad to whip his a** and change his whole fad
Now its proud to be the loudest so what you damage mics
Battle cats claim to be deep just cause they seen Titanic twice
You can and might say something worthwhile you'd rather be wild
Huge dick liar's I'd rather teach with freestyles
Entertainment got played quick no thanks bitch dick
f*** my kids don't need your playground education content not sayin' shit
Master the art of momma jokes while flippin' used beats
Ill teach your kids about god they'll kill you when you sleep
Don't be role models be honest using loose leaf loosely
The same cats that's hatin' Puffy they be chasin' lucci
You wasn't preachin' beat before tellin' lies in the street
Keep it rough neck I'll flip subjects success mean getting sleep
Don't take it out on us cause the love wasn't there
Hip-Hop will show you love but the world doesn't care
About you big dick sick shit lunatic drug abuse kid
I've got some herb and words to give now lets make some music


he he he he heeeeeeee. this dude is whack, ha ha
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: blak boy on October 14, 2008, 05:40:05 PM
can you upload the typical cats album, qwel is way dope with it and its hard to get those jams
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on October 14, 2008, 06:16:02 PM
will do so soon... wait for it...
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 14, 2008, 07:10:21 PM


Chester P- That Shiiit (ft Ias Balaskas prod by Louis Slippers)
Off "From the Ashes" not new but just sick.
Category- "Reality Rap"/"Bragadoccio"

Total Cockney tho don't think grime and shit. Hip Hop with an accent that makes the whole verse work:

Duck pigs like Roscoe, cold like Moscow, left paralysed to watch moss grow.
Like a 4x4 take you offroad sitting in your ends like an arrow in a crossbow/
I don't care if you feel like a honcho- lookin outta place like a mampi in a pot-hole/
My genius is gospel, indigenous a-po-stel brand all you fake cats rosWELLS/
Tryna tell me they rock bells/ weighs on the same scale/ as tryna tell the Devil that there ain't hell/ So I'm watchin them ring bells/ pullin their pigtails/ deep cats drown in my ink wells
I bring spells, bad weather and ill health/ never on the scene cos I operate in stealth/
Wanna test me step to the depths of hell I ain't gonna kill Bill Bill'll wanna kill imself/
In a cell gettin threats from a silhouette/pa**in the two's like a school boy cigarette/
You'll be dropped right off of the docks   lopside up/ punctured with dog bites/
Take nine lives and your nine wives and I rock mics slang lock tight like a lock knife/
Knock cats like shutters down lockside I ain't gonna stop like a robber on a hot bike/
Mr soundman never got the sound right how you gonna mix with a cable round your windpipe? Left you hanging in your booth like a windchime pulling at the cord in a last bid to win time/ I know cockneys who call cabs sherpas and wear Ben Shermans and burgle and serve in em/ Now they're doing bid birds out in Birmingham serving they're time till the systems returnin em/ I know hoodrats f*** with a germ in em whoever leaves sperm in em dick starts burnin em/ only hope it ain't burns that are permanent/ some of those burns can be germs that can murder them/ :o Mr Minister what you gonna say to them they don't really think it's gonna work if you pray for dem/ Mr officer looking for a suspect why you stoppin us cos we look like we ruffnecks? You'll be pulling out your cuffs next/
all of this upset for tryna wear my hoodie in public/ Mr Blair always says what he'll do for us/ every other day looking more like he's Lucifer/ Murk a million/ fingerprints silicon/ fa**y get robbed out here like prince william ;D/ Sin City every door way homicidium/ Got more tails than a pack of reptilians.


He goes on a bit but that's Chester P. Dude used to rock w Skinnyman and other dudes. Taskforce thrust, mad mad ill. Mud Fam, yeah, Chester P is dope. Slang kinda goes past me now a bit that I don't live in London and shit but hoping most of it's in right. Up for correction.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Mad on October 14, 2008, 07:13:49 PM


Chester P- That Shiiit (ft Ias Balaskas prod by Louis Slippers)
Off "From the Ashes" not new but just sick.
Category- "Reality Rap"/"Bragadoccio"

Total Cockney tho don't think grime and shit. Hip Hop with an accent that makes the whole verse work:

Duck pigs like Roscoe, cold like Moscow, left paralysed to watch moss grow.
Like a 4x4 take you offroad sitting in your ends like an arrow in a crossbow/
I don't care if you feel like a honcho- lookin outta place like a mampi in a pot-hole/
My genius is gospel, indigenous a-po-stel brand all you fake cats rosWELLS/
Tryna tell me they rock bells/ weighs on the same scale/ as tryna tell the Devil that there ain't hell/ So I'm watchin them ring bells/ pullin their pigtails/ deep cats drown in my ink wells
I bring spells, bad weather and ill health/ never on the scene cos I operate in stealth/
Wanna test me step to the depths of hell I ain't gonna kill Bill Bill'll wanna kill imself/
In a cell gettin threats from a silhouette/pa**in the two's like a school boy cigarette/
You'll be dropped right off of the docks   lopside up/ punctured with dog bites/
Take nine lives and your nine wives and I rock mics slang lock tight like a lock knife/
Knock cats like shutters down lockside I ain't gonna stop like a robber on a hot bike/
Mr soundman never got the sound right how you gonna mix with a cable round your windpipe? Left you hanging in your booth like a windchime pulling at the cord in a last bid to win time/ I know cockneys who call cabs sherpas and wear Ben Shermans and burgle and serve in em/ Now they're doing bid birds out in Birmingham serving they're time till the systems returnin em/ I know hoodrats f*** with a germ in em whoever leaves sperm in em dick starts burnin em/ only hope it ain't burns that are permanent/ some of those burns can be germs that can murder them/ :o Mr Minister what you gonna say to them they don't really think it's gonna work if you pray for dem/ Mr officer looking for a suspect why you stoppin us cos we look like we ruffnecks? You'll be pulling out your cuffs next/
all of this upset for tryna wear my hoodie in public/ Mr Blair always says what he'll do for us/ every other day looking more like he's Lucifer/ Murk a million/ fingerprints silicon/ fa**y get robbed out here like prince william ;D/ Sin City every door way homicidium/ Got more tails than a pack of reptilians.


He goes on a bit but that's Chester P. Dude used to rock w Skinnyman and other dudes. Taskforce thrust, mad mad ill. Mud Fam, yeah, Chester P is dope. Slang kinda goes past me now a bit that I don't live in London and shit but hoping most of it's in right. Up for correction.


that above..looks like an article in daily sun
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: rob_one on October 14, 2008, 07:34:04 PM


Chester P- That Shiiit (ft Ias Balaskas prod by Louis Slippers)
Off "From the Ashes" not new but just sick.
Category- "Reality Rap"/"Bragadoccio"

Total Cockney tho don't think grime and shit. Hip Hop with an accent that makes the whole verse work:

Duck pigs like Roscoe, cold like Moscow, left paralysed to watch moss grow.
Like a 4x4 take you offroad sitting in your ends like an arrow in a crossbow/
I don't care if you feel like a honcho- lookin outta place like a mampi in a pot-hole/
My genius is gospel, indigenous a-po-stel brand all you fake cats rosWELLS/
Tryna tell me they rock bells/ weighs on the same scale/ as tryna tell the Devil that there ain't hell/ So I'm watchin them ring bells/ pullin their pigtails/ deep cats drown in my ink wells
I bring spells, bad weather and ill health/ never on the scene cos I operate in stealth/
Wanna test me step to the depths of hell I ain't gonna kill Bill Bill'll wanna kill imself/
In a cell gettin threats from a silhouette/pa**in the two's like a school boy cigarette/
You'll be dropped right off of the docks   lopside up/ punctured with dog bites/
Take nine lives and your nine wives and I rock mics slang lock tight like a lock knife/
Knock cats like shutters down lockside I ain't gonna stop like a robber on a hot bike/
Mr soundman never got the sound right how you gonna mix with a cable round your windpipe? Left you hanging in your booth like a windchime pulling at the cord in a last bid to win time/ I know cockneys who call cabs sherpas and wear Ben Shermans and burgle and serve in em/ Now they're doing bid birds out in Birmingham serving they're time till the systems returnin em/ I know hoodrats f*** with a germ in em whoever leaves sperm in em dick starts burnin em/ only hope it ain't burns that are permanent/ some of those burns can be germs that can murder them/ :o Mr Minister what you gonna say to them they don't really think it's gonna work if you pray for dem/ Mr officer looking for a suspect why you stoppin us cos we look like we ruffnecks? You'll be pulling out your cuffs next/
all of this upset for tryna wear my hoodie in public/ Mr Blair always says what he'll do for us/ every other day looking more like he's Lucifer/ Murk a million/ fingerprints silicon/ fa**y get robbed out here like prince william ;D/ Sin City every door way homicidium/ Got more tails than a pack of reptilians.


He goes on a bit but that's Chester P. Dude used to rock w Skinnyman and other dudes. Taskforce thrust, mad mad ill. Mud Fam, yeah, Chester P is dope. Slang kinda goes past me now a bit that I don't live in London and shit but hoping most of it's in right. Up for correction.


DOPE!

You forgot that killer intro though...can't be a**ed to type it out now but it's cold.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 14, 2008, 07:48:31 PM
Hinges! ^^Dude I'm super lazy. Couldn't find that shit anywhere on Google nyehe. Put it up tho in time if you remember. Ridiculoushnesh.

There have to be categories though or is that smallmindedness?
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 15, 2008, 11:21:48 AM
yawn.


Heres some real shit :
Lil Weezy
"You Ain't Got Nuthin'"
(feat. Fabolous, Juelz Santana)


[Fabolous]
[Talking at start of the verse]
Yess! What it look like Alc, tryin to show the niggas man
It's that Street Fam man, we rep that
Loso, Street fi-di-di-di-dam yess!

I'm with (101) niggas, we (dalmation doggy) b (yess)
And fly with the tongue, so if you feeling froggy leap (come on)
Kermit, you better think before you ribbit
Don't get murdered over your song, before you ad-lib it
I pop up like (Xzibit), but given I'm at your crib it's (yeah)
Not to put no f***ing fish tanks in your Civic (nah)
f*** getting your (ride pimped), you'll get hog-tied wimp
Have you in the trunk curled up like fried shrimp (ha ha ha)

It's been a good year, maybe I should ride blimp (what you think?)
'Cause your boy just stay above the game
They trying to tag him, spray a brother frame
But your shots can't reach me, I'm way above your aim
Go 'head nigga, say another name (go 'head, go 'head)
Take this family for a joke, play them (Wayan brother) games
And (Ima Git You Sucka), I be schemin' with this (Keenan) (that's right)
Aimin with this (Damon), I'm putting that (Major Payne) in
My lil' man is on ya, (Marlon and Shawn) ya (yeah)
Lay the beef on his noodle, make some Luger lesagne (whoo!)
40. Cal fettuccine, trey pound pasta
You reach for this medallion, you must like Italian nigga

You only see me pushing if the driver's tired (yess)
I work the S6 ever since the 5 retired (yess)
The drop top, they say it's (Ocean Drive) inspired
So you can (Call A Cab), once your bitch falls for Fab

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
Uhh, I get money like a muhf***er
Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see
I got everything, you got nothing
But you ain't got nothing on me
Oww I'm gettin money like a muhf***a
Yeeaah, money you ain't never see
Yeeaah, I got everything, you got nothing
But you ain't got nothing on me

[Juelz Santana]
[Talking at start of the verse overlapping chorus]
Mr. HD, high definition
That's how I'm comin' at you niggas ya digg
It's Santana Ay! Hahaa

I'm on the grind 'til the police come (yeah)
With that pistol on my side boy, don't be dumb
Or, I let that semi twirl ya (get 'em)
Now you can follow the drip
'Cause one shot outta the clip'll jerry curl ya (oooh)

Leave you sloppy like seconds, obey me like peasants
Or get opened up like presents, please
My young boys wildin for respect
Slit your throat have you smiling with your neck, say cheese

My dough's a bit longer, my flow is just slaughter (yep)
My wrist look like fro-zen polar spring water (damn!)
So tell me boys, tell me boys, who you think you messing with? (who)
I get money out the a**, that's some expensive shit (eeuw)
Haven't you all heard? (what?) Y'all all herbs (yep)
I stick toothpicks (where) in y'all hors d'oeuvres
(Listen) I'm a shark y'all just koi fish
(What else?) octopus (what else?) oysters (haa)
Chump, I got my eye on your wifey now (yeah)
I have her lick me up, (up) and then wipe me down (down)
She told me youse a nag, youse a bug (damn)
She told me I'm a blast, I'm a stud (damn)
She told me you be be beasting, you be checking for the burns
So I gave her knee-pads for the rug (haa)

It's skull gang from the chain or the lifestyle
You surfboard dudes get wiped out, totally

[Chorus]

[lil Wayne]
Uh huh uh huh uh huh, check me out

Get you 3,4 get you
Like the number after 1, I'ma get me 2
It's Weezy F U, now you gotta have a baby

My money don't folds nor bends
Mercedes Maybach, grey-black
And I got a 44. and a 'K, like 8 stacks
f*** your city and your town, I state facts
Take that, no better yet like Diddy "take that"

Wait rats, I hate rats, I clean 'em out like Ajax
Got paper like a fax machine, asaneen
Damn I mean asinine, I'm dapper don
And after mine there will be nine, damn I mean there will be none
I will be one, of the greatest things you've ever felt, you've ever seen
Or heard, Car-ter, hov-er, y'all scared, not me
Not I, call me young Popeye
Tell Bruno I'm a noo-no, I bring ral to your fune
Damn I mean funeral, funeral
You say tomato, I say tomato
You say get 'em, I say got 'em, yeah I got 'em
Man you better keep paying me, 'cause you don't want my problems
I be wildin like (Capital One "What is in your wallet?")
You fly, but what is it to pilot?
Weezy I'm at the top, foot up in your bottom
Huuh, damn I mean, foot up in your a**
I kick that shit, now go'n put it in the trash

[Chorus w/ variations to fade]
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 15, 2008, 11:29:41 AM
Go Weezy. Yawn indeed. Dalmations. Wow.

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Jules Winnfield on October 15, 2008, 11:48:19 AM
Artist: Ras Ka**
Album:  Soul on Ice
Song:   Etc.


1st Pull:

Niggaz know it's about that time without a Schoolly D Gucci
I pop that pussy a** rapper and leave it up to Luke to Pop the Coochie
Truly a wretched steelo -- kept you Under Seige like Seagal
Cause I housed more niggaz than that faggot named RuPaul
Y'all all suffer the consequences
I dispense dope sentences without a prescription
prefixes asphyxiate bitches who flips linguistics
Representin the West, relevant to relentless sentences
If renegade rebels resent this wicked syntax (then jack)
Revert to revolution Ras reverse, reverberates
Revolvin with written retalliation, rate repetitious
Reflex flex, regret niggaz regress to less than recoup
When recording, I wreck, records
Reflect stupid, it's so much more than just another rap and sample
Cause I model more styles than Naomi Campbell
See we been burning idiots with lyrical syphillis
Since E.S.T. was Ackniculous, the nickle slick meticulous
ventriloquist when I throws my voice over the Western HemisFear
While my peers step over a Trail of Tears
Go get a job as a chandelier wit a gla** jaw like dat
I brings the impact to fracture mandibles, and manhandle the youth
Since my mental exceeds every MC I've perceive credible
Now becomes edible, kid!
And yo, I'm D for wreckin when reputations collide
But zhoom dum da dum, dadada dum dum
Suicide it's a suicide


2nd Pull:

I pull bitches like a lesbian and could come the f*** off
with a vasectomy, in depth I be deeper than Bosses' recipe
Incite recitation forever Ras Rock Steady like Buck when breakin on ducks
Who get props by a**ociation
Buy if ya lyrics suck, then f*** ya record label's juice
Ock, I rock hip-hop non-stop and got more juice than Snapple
Intricate to simplistic stylistics I solicit
It gets niggaz open like fallopian ovulation
f***in these kids like the Michael Jackson molestations
Sendin ya back as the U.S. Nation did AIDS infected refugee Haitians
Uhh, yeah niggaz so what's the haps
You could put up ya dukes but in the West they bust caps
So bulletproof fists is the only way I'm gone miss, but peep this
My mental's the bullet, my tongue's the finger that pull it
Check the method, soundtrack voodoo uh and bamboo like strapped
Come better you, oh sorry verbal dyslexic
You better come strapped like bamboo and a voodoo soundtrack
And make sure not even one bar sounds wack (bitch)
Cause we take the best shit and make it cla**ic
Word to Guru, take two f***in pulls, and pa** it


Get the f*** outta here!!!!
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Jules Winnfield on October 15, 2008, 11:56:28 AM
Nas on Verbal Intercourse, from Raekwon's "Only Built for Cuban Linx"

Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Sosiba on October 15, 2008, 01:20:43 PM
Song name: Accelerate
Artist: Flabba
Album: Kut en Joyn

Well I'm the type that makes Freinksteins look like full blown idiots/Just like an angry man in a coffin I'm dead serious/(Your style is fat) Yeah I know I was told/That's why they never get tired of my shit like toilet bowls/Marry had a little lamb but then I stole it/Sold it 2 my mother-in-law then it was roasted/I was about to leave when she said I should stay for supper/And for dinner I had both the lamb and her daughter... I'm not sure about the next 4 bars but the last 4 of this verse went thus; Backstabbers wanna threaten my life/But i backstab them right back with a sharper knife/Infinite skills in other words skill that never ends/I'm proud to say i dedicate this verse to my intelligence...

To me very no MC in SA has matched Flabba's madness pre-2003.

Check some lines from his verse on the song WE put it there (1999). "Even if I was swimming in boiling water I'd still remain raw" "My lyricism is bad for the heart; too much cholesterol (i.e Fat lyrics))"  "Attacking Mc's without warning like silent farts"
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: blak boy on October 15, 2008, 02:53:04 PM
co sign that ras ka**, that's the ish that kicks nighaz teeth in
Flabba was dope back in the day, as well, he did not give a Fck! was way dope

here's my drop,

Artist: Organized Konfusion
Album:  The Equinox
Song:   Numbers
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

Uhh, turn it up
Hah, uhh, yo, check it
Now add it up
Uhh, add it up
Uhh...

[Prince Poetry]
Check it out, we're like
Three LP's precise from my Five Deadly Venoms
With international plugs like nine Organized emblems
Get it?  Twenty Thousand Leagues, extra deep
Runnin with the number thirteen with my 40 Below's upon the feet
Now Adam 12 got me in this 20/20
so I'm double oh seven about my four one one
Sunny forecast with eighty-three degrees of heat
We merkin four-twenty eat island three five N2Deep
Mack 10 under seat for carjacking Pa**enger 57's
A Product 19 who gets the dumpster behind 7 Eleven
4-1-0-8-0-9-1-5-9
Same 227 style with one nosy bitch in the blind
Hit, one-five-five for twenty sacks and better
Nothin but love for this nigga, Mr. 16th Letter
Mr. 16th Letter, Mr. 16th Letter...

[Pharoahe Monch]
Yo, nine times out of ten, a nigga won't shine
I drop dime on five niggaz who all had nines
on the corner of my block doin crime, now I'm
walkin around, with the fo'-pound, now lately
Lookin over my shoulder with a six hour three-eighty
Maybe the baby Tec woulda been nicer to bring along
Sing along with me if y'all know the song
Mines, gimme, not Vinnie but I'm Naughty
In forty projects drinkin 40's till I'm forty ?
Truncatin drum loops with Pauly
On the SP-1200 and 1212 you feel it
Mission to create, matrimony and reveal it
It's love in the form of life, as you know it
You skatin with the eight and I'ma damn sure show it

        Funky Four +1, you know makes Five
        Fantastic, romatic, got live
        Furious was cheeriest, the Treacherous Three
        We be the Awesome Two most definitely
        ... makes Five ... got live
        ... Three, we be the Awesome Two

[Pharoahe Monch]
Now I can get Get, Smart smart
But I'm not not Eighty-Six in the mind, mind you
I got a girl named Ninety-Nine, and when I rhyme
she rhymes too, she likes to do the sixty-nine
and so I climb, up through, to the, top of the pile
But see I'm not standing on Gomer
I hit a homer, and I got jumped by The Simpsons
Not to mention, Pharoahe Mon-Chi-Chi, eighty-nine percent
of the time I'm sure of my rhyme like shake redemption
The remaining eleven percent come from seven percent
Great God Pharoahe of heaven ascent
Racin a 5.0, in my 380i
On my way back from Florida on four-ninety-five

        We just parlayin with the one one one
Check one, now add it up
        now add the two *scratch* two two
Uhh, Monch, add it up
        Truly with the three three three three
Yo, add it up
        We be the Awesome Two most definitely

[Prince Poetry]
Now just yesterday I couldn't took my last Five Heartbeats
Now I feeling it's for spiritual reasons
No more sweet sixteens and dick teasing
Too many Tech-9's behind trees and five-oh keeps a black brotha bleedin
Fillin em up like Unleaded Phillips 66
Owin me more than 40 Acres and these Mule kicks
Gettin the 48 Hours, like Eddie Murphy
Too dark to mix, now triple-six wanna hurt me
Still reachin for more than, ten million sales
In Studio 54, Waiting to Exhale
When in the world 12 disciples, in this life cycle
that's trifle, so my impact's a twenty gauge rifle
Fifty/fifty eight and thirteen inches of weapon
7-1-8 to 2-1-3 on the 747
Three strikes, two tokes, once again for the ma**
Furious like the Five with Grandmaster Flash

        Yo, Funky Four +1, you know makes Five
        Fantastic, romatic, got live
        Furious was cheeriest, the Treacherous Three
        We be the Awesome Two most definitely
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: TATEguru v.2K9 on October 15, 2008, 04:47:43 PM
NO-ONE is messing with Raiko quotes on this thread. :o

SOUL ON ICE
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Malcom E.K.K.S on October 15, 2008, 05:30:18 PM
GFK---Mighty Healthy...Too sick  ;D ;D ;D ;D


[VERSE 1:]
Both hands clusty, chillin' wit my man Rusty low down
Blew off the burner kinda dusty
The world can't touch Ghost, purple tape Rae co-host
Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro
Son triflin f***, wildflower on the cyclin
Pick up the brew thought I was Michael an'
Mics are writin' pool, now, I'm into Iron Duals
Turn-ons the Earth's whoopee, she out of law school
In hale break beats of hell A-Alikes propel parallel
Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell
Snap out of CandyLand, kids the old rumor is
blacks become immune to shit, we never did like
eati' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs
Men marryin men, ill they got the herbs pulsar
Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter
Livin' off land you god damn right I f*** fans king me
Check checkmate props like the micro chip founder
Neck to neck stocks with Bill Gates now

[CHORUS:]
...............

[VERSE 2:]
Hit mics like Ted Koppel, rifle expert
Let off the Eiffel, burn a flag in the gra** it's spiteful
Ringleader set it off, rap Derek Jeter
Culprit, prince of the game wish you could see us
We lay low glitter wax full bangles
Priceless rolls, lay around the God get tangled
Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of bra**
Twelve men, following me, it be the God staff
Move, every script's like Miramax
Smash the big boy totalled it, will shot fear effects
Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' Zima
Wu 'binos, to latinos, we bust Selena
Over night, God schedules, fed ex
Pretty soloette velvet nice DNA scroll genetics
Too hot, to handle one thought scramblin the mandolin
Hundred game Wilt Chamberlain, smack em, say when
He rollin up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts
Yo kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched
It's Canada Dry sess, obsessed with Allah's sun
We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: rob_one on October 15, 2008, 05:33:18 PM
GFK---Mighty Healthy...Too sick  ;D ;D ;D ;D


[VERSE 1:]
Both hands clusty, chillin' wit my man Rusty low down
Blew off the burner kinda dusty
The world can't touch Ghost, purple tape Rae co-host
Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro
Son triflin f***, wildflower on the cyclin
Pick up the brew thought I was Michael an'
Mics are writin' pool, now, I'm into Iron Duals
Turn-ons the Earth's whoopee, she out of law school
In hale break beats of hell A-Alikes propel parallel
Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell
Snap out of CandyLand, kids the old rumor is
blacks become immune to shit, we never did like
eati' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs
Men marryin men, ill they got the herbs pulsar
Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter
Livin' off land you god damn right I f*** fans king me
Check checkmate props like the micro chip founder
Neck to neck stocks with Bill Gates now

[CHORUS:]
...............

[VERSE 2:]
Hit mics like Ted Koppel, rifle expert
Let off the Eiffel, burn a flag in the gra** it's spiteful
Ringleader set it off, rap Derek Jeter
Culprit, prince of the game wish you could see us
We lay low glitter wax full bangles
Priceless rolls, lay around the God get tangled
Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of bra**
Twelve men, following me, it be the God staff
Move, every script's like Miramax
Smash the big boy totalled it, will shot fear effects
Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' Zima
Wu 'binos, to latinos, we bust Selena
Over night, God schedules, fed ex
Pretty soloette velvet nice DNA scroll genetics
Too hot, to handle one thought scramblin the mandolin
Hundred game Wilt Chamberlain, smack em, say when
He rollin up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts
Yo kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched
It's Canada Dry sess, obsessed with Allah's sun
We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry

Yes, yes and yes.

Two of the craziest, weirdest, most insane verses of all time right there. I have no idea what the f*** either of them are saying, I have no idea why it's so dope, but it is.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Malcom E.K.K.S on October 15, 2008, 05:41:09 PM
^^^ A dope verse about nothing i guess :)
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 15, 2008, 05:57:56 PM
Gang Starr: Suckas Need Bodyguards
Code of the Streets

Verse Three (Guru):

I've been around punk but yo I still feel young
A few of my crew members like to pack guns
I'm high strung but don't mistake me when I smile
I murder an entire rap chart with my freestyle
After the killing just like casper I'm ghost
Fakes thought I was friendly, at their wakes I was host
Toast without a gun you'd be done
Throw up your hands bitch- and now you know you stand to lose one
Choose one metaphor, and then choose another
Wax that a** like a bully have you calling your big brother
Although I'm five foot eight they call me sergeant
Got more hoes on my dick than you can fit in the garden
At Madison Square I shot a fair one
So many n***** knew me that the kid wouldn't dare run
MC's pay cash to ensure their safety
They know they can't take me; the G-A-N-G, you crazy?
I be on them like a message from god
Knowledge of self while fake mc's play hard
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 08:48:27 AM
HANDS DOWN THE BEST LYRICS OF 08.

T.I KILLED JAY,YAY,and WEEZY BAYBAY!!!!
Phenomenal - He is officially in the hiphop hall of fame!!!!!!


"Swagger Like Us"
(feat. Jay-Z, Kanye West, Lil Wayne)


[Intro/Chorus 4X: sample of M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes"]
"No one on the corner has swagger like us"
"Swagger like us, swagger-swagger like us"

[Chorus]

[Kanye West]
("No one on the corner") Mr. West is in the building
Swagger on a hundred thousand trillion

("No one on the corner") Aiyyo I know I got it first
I'm Christopher Columbus, y'all just the pilgrims
Thanksgiving, do we even got a question?
Hermes pastel, I pa**ed the dressing
My attitude is tattooed
That mean it's permanent, so I guess we should address it, huh?
("No one on the corner") My swagger is Mick Jagger
Every time I breathe on a track, I asthma attack it

Why he so mad for? Why he gotta have it?
Cause a slave my whole life, now I'm the master
Naaaaa-na-naaaaa
How it feel to wake up and be the shit, and the urine?
Naaaaa-na-naaaaa
Tryna get that Kobe number, one over Jordan


[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]
Geah..
("No one on the corner") Got a bop like this
Can't wear skinny jeans cause my nines don't fit
No one on the corner got a pocket like this
So I rock Roc jeans cause my nine's so thick
You can learn how to dress just for checking my fresh
Checking-checking my fresh, checking-checking my fresh
Follow my steps is the road to success

Where the niggas know you're thorough when the girls say yes (yes!)
("No one on the corner") But I can't teach 'em my swag
You can pay for school but you can't buy cla**
("No one on the corner") School of hard knocks I'm a grad
And that all-blue Yankee is my graduation cap
It's Hooooo-vahhhhh
Dippin-dippin Rovers, whippin with the soda
Hooooo-vahhhhh
Did you even have any doubt after doubt it was over?


[Chorus]

[lil Wayne]
No one on the corner has swagger like moi
Church, and I'm too clean for the choir
I require, but I desire
I got stripes, A-di-das

Mamis scream, "?Papi no mas!"
Run up in your shit just me, no mas
Running this shit like I got four' tires
No one has swagger like these for' guys
Now when it comes to styles, I got several
Sharper than the swagger, dagger or metal
And my jew-els, blue and yellow
The type of shit that make 'em call you Carmelo
Who's as follows stay true to the ghetto
Write your name on the bullet make you feel special
Ha! What the f*** you boys talking 'bout?
I know it's us cause we the only thing you talk about
And I'm gone... bye... yeah

[Chorus - during last line]

[T.I.]
Hah, you see? That's right
Ay, you know see Weezy for the wordplay, Jeezy for the bird play
Kanyeezy for diversity and me for controversy
I'm a verse that's picture perfect, only spit to serve a purpose
You ain't living what you kicking then you worthless
Lookin from the surface it may seem like I got reason to be nervous
Been observant, work to see if my adversity was worth it
Verse is autobiographical, absolutely cla**ical
Last thing I'm worried 'bout is what another rapper do
Ain't nobody hot as me
Even if they rap they a** off, blast off and have outstanding quality
Sell a lot of records, I'll respect it and salute that
But spin real life on hot beats, I'm the truth at
You kick it like me, no exaggeration necessary
Living revolutionary, nothing less than legendary
Gangsta shit hereditary, got it from my dad
Flow colder than February with extraordinary swag
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Habbit on October 16, 2008, 09:15:57 AM
Krumbsnatcha on Make 'em Pay in the Gangstarr's Moment of Truth Album

I see myself as the black Rap Messiah/
Colossal spreadin my gospel through electrical wires/
Spit fire through speech, so I can reach each and every/
Tom Dick and Jerry slippin like petroleum jelly/
Too busy in the limelight, can't rhyme tight/
I got divine right to bring y'all to light/
Somethin ain't right, to be an MC, you gotta thug/
Or to thug you gotta be an MC, this shit is bugged/
Show love but few; deal with crew and crew only/
And think universal like Sony/
Phony pounds and fake hugs is usually avoided/
Give a f*** like Pizza Hut I got to stay Noyd-ed/
Cause that same nigga you trust, could be that same cat/
behind that gat that bust, quiet ya, with the silencer/
Keep it hush, ashes to dust, then dust to ashes/
Nowadays it's who pull out the fastest, imagine this/
rap shit without this gat shit, or the phony cat/
in black talkin bout how much his Mac spit/
But this year, GangStarr got changes bein made/
No wack shit bein played no fake macks gettin paid/
No Versace MC's, with a mouth full of Mo'/
Soundin like a hoe spittin that old-fashioned show flow/
I bombshell that pastel Chanel rap through a Maxwell/
Ever since young Krumb, was taught to rap well/
Goin deep, process of thought, when my eyes closes/
Awaken with interpretive robe and sandals like Moses/
Travellin high sands and Eastern lands for the answers/
Ignorance is spreadin through the streets like it was cancer/
Too many drinkin not thinkin, when behind that trigger/
A 38 escalate the murder rate, for us niggaz/
it's like, microphone roulette cause nowadays MC's is gettin wet/
over someone else's fake gangsta rep/

Whoa!!
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: QuinDEeh on October 16, 2008, 09:57:21 AM
t.i on Lupe's superstar remix.

young nicc ain a lyricist but on that, he spit the truth.

"Anyone who know me, they know me to ride
But when the shit was selling slow it's just my homies and I.
Had to get rid of all the phonies and the homies disguised.
So you speaking, I don't reply, homie don't be surprised
You ain't gotta ride for me, I didn't ask you to.
Take the journey on my own, I would gladly do.
You gon' and turn around now, I'll call a cab for you.
I stand up on my own 2, u kiss the a** of who.
No way Jose, we pot Rose, blow dro, that's more than okay.
See but don't say, my folk, they flip more yay than Cirque du Soleil.
Keyser Soze, oh they kill people and get off like OJ.
You catch your case, just shut your face, don't get caught singing do, re,
Mi, fa, say, la, ti, do, ghetto hero, G-code I obey.
He's so gay, didn't have no business hanging around me no way.
It's okay, life lesson learned I suggest that you go your way.
I be straight, no conversation man.
That's all I'm gon' say"

 
okay now, anyone who know me, they know me to ride
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 11:06:35 AM
damn! this nigga TIP! he on fire!!!!
Heres another one that MUST BE MENTIONED HERE :

T.I - "Respect This Hustle"

These niggas bitch made, i'm gettin paid six ways
my shits laid, and shits sprayed, with lemonade, with blades,
keep your mouth closed, you dont want to get sprayed
shoot you down your body, make you sun bathe six days,
Kamikazee renegade, now we never been afraid
kept the trap hot enough to fry, egg in the shade,
I ball till the day, lying dead in the grave
leave the feds behind the wall cause i aint get away,
chopper round the corner in a bush with a brick of yay,
a bust can happen any day, we out here trapping anyway,
gettin money to them Haitians damn what a nigga say,
i got a real bad condition if i ain't gettin paid,
hand over fist what im missing got to get busy,
i know you see this car I'm driving and see the house that i live in
and figure this is enough,
but nigga i want way more really this is play doe, you set your sites way low.
i had enough of the game i don't know whether to stay or go.
different groups of lames and suckers i don't know which way i go,
well nigga you know you king why you always got to say it for?
cause they said i couldn't say it before,
and i remember all it did was f**k my temper up more Doug and "J" know,
I say I wear the crown, not a halo sorry,
niggas think they seeing me but they so sorry,
they fast but they ain't no ferrai, NRROWM.



EISHHHHHHH
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 16, 2008, 11:12:11 AM
I thought this was meant to be about the best lyrics. Except for the stuff raiko posted I've just seen mediocrity and sometimes even plain retardedness.

Holocaust
Quote
You've fallen down an endless tunnel of doom reality
Graphically, my Killa Bee family stings the galaxy
Insanity, titanium stomach devourin' Guinness
My flesh is solid stone despite my outer appearance
Still diseased, kill viruses, planets and racial creatures
Made MC's sprout tumors so bad, lost facial features
Waste ya peoples, left out in the rain, fountains of pain
Eighty shots to the mouth and the brain, shoutin' my name
Holocaust, black man whose veins littered with thorns
Back-smack you so hard all your seeds'll be born deformed
Swarm dorms, sting birds, fling verbs like mean curves
Strike three, mics flee, I infect 'em with green germs, ringworm
Cuz I'm filthy and guilty, dastardly mastery
My felony melody has to be a bastard's masterpiece
Stop graftin' me, chump-a** niggaz, eyein' me, tempt me
I'll break it down simply, I'm horrifyingly empty
Spittin' darts on the tip of a glacier, used for my hideout
Rock crush a German Suplex, watch spines slide out the side route
Forearm bash with twenty jabs on the Ave
Or your lab get stabbed and bloodied bad
While I'm sippin' herbal teas, verbal bees plant fertile seeds
Bitches leave with broke backs, swollen palms and purple knees
Circle thieves like vultures in deserts, rest on a cactus
Got Oscar nominee MC's stuck too my hatchet
Drastic, indescribable pain, I injure bars
While Bobby's throwin' Razor CD's like Ninja Stars

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 11:21:59 AM
I thought this was meant to be about the best lyrics. Except for the stuff raiko posted I've just seen mediocrity and sometimes even plain retardedness.

Silkworm (Holocaust) on Bobby Digital
Quote
You've fallen down an endless tunnel of doom reality
Graphically, my Killa Bee family stings the galaxy
Insanity, titanium stomach devourin' Guinness
My flesh is solid stone despite my outer appearance
Still diseased, kill viruses, planets and racial creatures
Made MC's sprout tumors so bad, lost facial features
Waste ya peoples, left out in the rain, fountains of pain
Eighty shots to the mouth and the brain, shoutin' my name
Holocaust, black man whose veins littered with thorns
Back-smack you so hard all your seeds'll be born deformed
Swarm dorms, sting birds, fling verbs like mean curves
Strike three, mics flee, I infect 'em with green germs, ringworm
Cuz I'm filthy and guilty, dastardly mastery
My felony melody has to be a bastard's masterpiece
Stop graftin' me, chump-a** niggaz, eyein' me, tempt me
I'll break it down simply, I'm horrifyingly empty
Spittin' darts on the tip of a glacier, used for my hideout
Rock crush a German Suplex, watch spines slide out the side route
Forearm bash with twenty jabs on the Ave
Or your lab get stabbed and bloodied bad
While I'm sippin' herbal teas, verbal bees plant fertile seeds
Bitches leave with broke backs, swollen palms and purple knees
Circle thieves like vultures in deserts, rest on a cactus
Got Oscar nominee MC's stuck too my hatchet
Drastic, indescribable pain, I injure bars
While Bobby's throwin' Razor CD's like Ninja Stars



He managed to say "ABSOLUTELY NOTHING" ......but the rhymes were tight.lol. him n GFK are like rap pica**o's.lol

Heres some REAL INSPIRATIONAL shit :

Jeezy

"Dreamin'"

[intro]
This one for the hood rite here
Song dedicated for anybody out dere got sum dreams
Dont give up on yo dreams real talk
Ya ready kiese lets go

[keisha]
Dreamin.....Dreamin......Dreamin......
Dreamin.....Dreamin......Dreamin......

[verse 1]
Born september 28 my life far from great
No food on the table so we fought for steak
But im so close to jail feels lyke im so close to hell
Moms smokin rocks same shit im sellin
So who's wrong her or me
She addicted to tha high im addicted to tha cash
Almost put my hands on here when i caught her in my stash
How could i do like dat lord knows im wrong
Why would i do her like dat lord know she strong
I kno its been hard but we made it baby
10 years clean so she still my lady i must be dreamin

[hook]
Dreamin' (always think about it) (i must be) (man i must be)
Dreamin' (always think about it) Dreamin' (ooooo rite)
Dreamin' (always think about it) (must be) man i must be
Dreamin' (always think about it) Dreamin' (oooo yea)

[verse 2]
1 thing about it i got luv for you homie
2 things about it i take a slug for you homie
Look atchu now u's a buisness man
Im proud of u dawg handle ya buisness man

U like the brother i neva eva had
U try ya best n i still get mad
We risk's it all togetha been thru it all togetha
Caught cases n we still togetha
Headed OT i sleep while u driven
Me n my dawg ya we chippin on 5's
Rememba back when we shared our clothes
Look at us now we sell our shows i must be dreamin


[hook]

[verse 3]
I was young n dumb wit a pocket full of cash
Posted on the block wit a pocket full of gla**
Full speed still runin from my pa**
But its startin to catch up ya its gainin on my a**
Theres 2 types of niggas prediter n prey
Ima prediter i prey 3 times a day
Man u wants said one day u'll hav kids
N how u gonna explain all dat shit u did
Ima soul survivor we far from a crook
She always said i was a lot smarter then i looked
So i took my dreams n made it some thousands
Then i took my life n i made it a album i must be dreamin'
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 11:29:27 AM
shit! how cud i forget my nigga Teddy Pendera**down :

"Time Machine"

[Intro:]
Ya, yaaaaah, yeah
Tebunan, Pedalofogus, from the planet Telegusa, ya

[Verse 1:]
Illudium Q-36 explosive space modulator
Going on a trip, I'll be back home, boy I'll see you later
Going back to a time when I know everything was straighter
Everything's great now but back then it was greater
And I don't need no clothes I go in just what I'm wearing
Matter fact I just go back to what I used to wear then
No matter how the weather, everything back then was just so better
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine


[Chorus:]
Back back back back back back back back in time
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine
Back back back back back back back back in time
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine

[Verse 2:]
Going back to a time when this music shit was more than business
Back to a time when I knew my niggas was down and if they still is
And I didn't have to worry about what I got on when I go outsizzide
And I didn't have to worry about what kind of car I got when I rizzide
And I didn't have to have 22s, 24s or 26s
And I didn't have to be forever surrounded by a million bitches
No matter how bad my life was
I still got love no matter how mad my wife was
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine

[Chorus:]
Back back back back back back back back in time
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine
Back back back back back back back back in time
I can dream, it's a simple thing
I'm building a time machine

Back back back back back back back back in time
Simple thing
Back back back back back back back back in time
Simple thing
Building a time machine
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 16, 2008, 11:32:22 AM
C'mon Pyro stop being a wee-wee.   :-\ If you're gonna post mediocre shit like that you may as well insert all of Killah Priest's Heavy Mental album....

Heavy Mental

[Killah Priest]
The mind, Heavy Mental, Jesus Christ is, Heavy Mental
Everything brings in, Heavy Mental day, the day you will experience something
Heavy Mental, never done, Heavy Mental..

Information begins the gathering
starting the pattern and stargate towards Saturn
between the eye socket is where I will build my sky rocket
you don't need any pa**port, all you need is a thought
suddenly, the soul becomes hot as coal
the flame blows from out my brain holes like a volcano
the brain begins to process as we start the conquest
from out the physical bondage, the thought
launches, voyaging 144 billion light years through the shadows of your imaginination
now open your eyes do you see the flaming arrows aiming at pharoahs inhibitions
as we begin-racing like a sparrow through the narrow population
seeking purification, the destination is the holy land, of Bethlehem
I eat lamb with Abraham and break bread with the son of man
so slowly, hold these hands and stretch forth from the skies like a rubber band
as I begin to step you above the land out of the atmosphere
don't look back why, cause we're almost there
just try to prepare and adapt to the air pressure
now we searching for the mental treasure (pleasure)
beyond the measure of yards
you can't comprehend to god or to distance between stars
pick up quasars inside the radar
as we're going far past any astronaut
moving so fast in this aircraft
everything we pa** get hot, from the take-off
the blast turns gla** into rocks
at last my supreme task was to no longer walk on green gra**
till I become a beam of gas
and travel through a extreme draft
unable, to be picked up through cable (through cable)
out of the reach of all manner of sky examiners, heaven scanners,
giant antennas, high tech space cameras
or evidence in any cemetry or obituary
not found in any library or dictionary or encyclopedia or media
I'm in star mode, with the discipline of dahmo, I broke the U.S. bar code
now I'm on Allah's road to journey, into the realms of the cosmos
where only god knows or goesl, blow like a UFO
to give up my work clothes, only to glow with a holy robe
and explode through the mysterious black holes
deep warp the outer zone, without a phone, to the unknown
to sit on my throne alone (Heavy Mental)
I'm the pilot on galactical plain of knowledge the culture
my sculpture, lights up the ultra violet
so you could see my brain is symbolic, to a palace
therefore I keep my hair stylish, my flesh solid
my teeth polished, next stage, examin my x-ray
take notes for your essay, and let my casette play for longer than a decade
as we begin to blaze, through the milky ways
repenting from our filthy ways, replenish for our guilty days
the eyeballs, swell up the size of eggs, beyond dreamland
wing span, 7 feet, between the eyes is the beak
destination of the ride, is to reach is the peak, angelic landscape
takes the physical man behind the hidden gates of space
ultimate escapes as we go at a phenomenal rate
as we cruise going into magnitude
as we break up into a multitude of molecules
going through a long hollow tube with a scholars view
as, we wearing the white garment, pa**ing sound waves
that's supersonic, pa**ing the comets, star clusters
changing my physical structure, till my lips begin to pucker
kissing Christ at the last supper
grabbing a bra** cup of wine (Heavy Mental)
I feel myself getting older, sitting on my sofa
in the position like yoga, till my mind pa**es over
the solar system, my wisdom nova, I am the controller
I begin to loosen up my shoulders forming each joint
into the suns 8 points, then I, begin to rise like helium
escape in the milleniumm, two thousand
meditating to the soft note of a violin
I've been on Mars, building the holy synagogue
for the royal seminars, long before they had the renaissance
there existed a hebrew lodge (Heavy Mental)
a phenomenon from out of the matrix
the world looks at me with envy and hatred
just because I appear to them half naked
rising into a spaceship
with an arm full of solid gold bracelets
a phenomenon from out of the matrix (Heavy Mental)
now the only time (Heavy Mental)
the only time you should catch.. (Heavy Mental)
only time, you could have
jet lag is if your ca**ette drag.. (Heavy Mental)
rock a by ? (Heavy Mental)
yo, just chill (Heavy Mental)
stop the tape (Heavy Mental)
(STOP IT!) Heavy Mental

Abstraction at its finest.

Also felt C-Rays Buck Eighty on the wordplay front lazy to type that.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 11:43:45 AM
Killah Priest is a beast!!!!!
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 16, 2008, 11:46:41 AM
Chino on Beastin
Quote
My saliva's lava, the wicked anomalous scholar
The author composin' your broken bones into an orchestra
Burn in Heaven, no weapon can harm me
These homos been in the closets so long I'ma donate them to Salvation Army
Calmly tearin' ya flesh like the claws of a falcon
Write songs 'til my wrist develops Carpal Tunnel Syndrome
And there's no feelin' in my right thumb, my knuckles white and numb
You should see the muscular development in my forearms
I'm sworn human heroin from here on
Consider Chino XL a monster, f*** Charlize Theron
You cling on to life like a skinny Luther
I'm like an aircraft carrier goin' to war with a Mini Cooper
Gettin' used to being crazy
as a double jointed female doctor bent over, delivering her own baby
Anti-Medical, non-preventable
Make you and a dead man identical
Sallow arms are well armed like an octopus
Medical bust, ten of you, trust non of you
I'm the murdering minister when God is upset at you
Right on schedule, calligraphers spit is incomprehensible
Poison Pen always the illest, but today he's exceptional
Slayin' professionals between big deals
I get jobs at McDonalds and throw cyanide pills into kids meals
I slaughter individuals, throw rappers through windshields
Slice them from ear to ear 'til they breathin' out of fish scales
Every lyricist kneels to my internal, incurable inferno
I beat a niggaz haircut into crop circles
Hear the motherless pain
Be the main attraction in a circus how I can juggle your jugular vein
I stumble and aim if you merely just mumble my name
Crumple your fame, cripple ya fangs
Isn't it strange it doesn't change I'm a beast
The hungriest rapper alive pickin' human flesh out of my teeth
You get shot in the streets or in sentences like Mystikal
Don't even call rap rap no more, call it Chino XL

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: K9 tha Pedigree on October 16, 2008, 11:52:34 AM
Iv neva bin a Killah Priest fan, I prefer Chino xl and tech 9
anyway, Jay-z's verse on PUT ON
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: cash on October 16, 2008, 11:58:25 AM
NO BODY CAN SPIT REALER THAN THIS!!!
MUST BE THE MOST INTENSE HIPHOP VERSE EVER!!


"Only God Can Judge Me"
(2Pac feat. Rappin 4-Tay)

[Intro: 2Pac]

Only God can judge me, is that right?
[synth voice] Only God can judge me now
Only God baby, nobody else, nobody else
All you other motherf***ers get out my business

[Verse One: 2Pac]

Perhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back
I couldn't trust my own homies just a bunch a dirty rats
Will I, succeed, paranoid from the weed
And hocus pocus try to focus but I can't see
And in my mind I'ma blind man doin time
Look to my future cause my past, is all behind me
Is it a crime, to fight, for what is mine?
Everybody's dyin tell me what's the use of tryin
I've been Trapped since birth, cautious, cause I'm cursed
And fantasies of my family, in a hearse
And they say it's the white man I should fear
But, it's my own kind doin all the killin here

I can't lie, ain't no love for the other side
Jealousy inside, make em wish I died
Oh my Lord, tell me what I'm livin for
Everybody's droppin got me knockin on heaven's door
And all my memories, of seein brothers bleed
And everybody grieves, but still nobody sees
Recollect your thoughts don't get caught up in the mix
Cause the media is full of dirty tricks
Only God can judge me

[Chorus: 2Pac]

[synth voice] Only God can judge me
That's right baby, yeah baby
[synth voice] Only God
Hahahahahahahaha
[synth + Pac] Only God can judge me, only God can judge
[synth cont.] me, only God
Only God can judge me
[synth + Pac] Only God can judge me
And only God can
[synth voice] Only God can judge me, only God
Only God can judge me
[synth + Pac] Only God can judge me
Only God can judge me
[synth voice] Only God can judge me, only God
Only God can judge me
[synth voice] Only God can judge me now

[heart monitor: long beep]
Flatline!

[Verse Two: 2Pac]

I hear the doctor standing over me [heart monitor: beeping slowly]
screamin I can make it
Got a body full of bullet holes layin here naked
Still I, can't breathe, somethings evil in my IV
Cause everytime I breathe, I think they killin me [beeping sound stops]
I'm having nightmares, homicidal fantansies
I wake up stranglin, danglin my bed sheets
I call the nurse cause it hurts, to reminisce
How did it come to this? I wish they didn't miss
Somebody help me, tell me where to go from here
Cause even Thugs cry, but do the Lord care?
Try to remember, but it hurts
I'm walkin through the cemetary talkin to the, dirt
I'd rather die like a man, than live like a coward
There's a ghetto up in Heaven and it's ours, Black Power
is what we scream as we dream in a paranoid state
And our fate, is a lifetime of hate
Dear Mama, can you save me? And f*** peace
Cause the streets got our babies, we gotta eat
No more hesitation each and every black male's trapped
And they wonder why we suicidal runnin round strapped
Mista, Po-lice, please try to see that it's
a million motherf***ers stressin just like me
Only God can judge me

[Chorus w/ variations]

[Interlude: 2Pac]

That which does not kill me can only make me stronger
(That's for real)
and I don't see why everybody feel as though
that they gotta tell me how to live my life
(You know?)
Let me live baby, let me live

[Verse Three: Rappin 4-Tay, Tupac]

Pac I feel ya, keep servin it on the reala
For instance say a playa hatin mark is out to kill ya
Would you be wrong, for buckin a nigga to the pavement?
He gon' get me first, if I don't get him fool start prayin
Ain't no such thing as self-defense in the court of law
So judge us when we get to where we're goin wearin a cross, that's real
Got him, lurked him, crept the f*** up on him
Sold a half a million tapes now everybody want him
After talkin behind my back like a bitch would
Tellin them niggaz, "You can fade him," punk I wish you would
It be them same motherf***ers in your face that'll rush up in your place
to get your safe, knowin you on that paper chase
Gra**, gla**, big screen and leather couch
My new shit is so fetti already sold a key of ounce
Bitch, remember Tupac and 4-Tay
Them same two brothers dodgin bullets representin the Bay
Pac when you was locked down, that's when I'll be around
Start climbing up the charts, so sick, but they tried to clown
That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin sellin lies
Don't think I don't see you haters, I know you all in disguise

Guess you figure you know me cause I'm a Thug
That love to hit the late night club, drink then buzz
Been livin lavish like a player all day
Now I'm bout to floss em off, player shit with 4-Tay
Only God can judge me

[Chorus w/ variations]

[4Tay] Only God main
[2Pac] That right?
[4Tay] That's real
[2Pac] Hahahahahaha
[4Tay] f*** everybody else, yaknowhatI'msayin?
[2Pac] Man, look here man
My only fear of death is comin back to this bitch reincarnated
That's for the homey mental
We up out
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: blak boy on October 16, 2008, 01:09:51 PM
rtist: Aesop ROCK
Album:  Float
Song:   Basic Cable
Typed by: multsanta@home.com

television, all hail grand pixelated god of
fantasy, murder scape and perspective
f*** a sore channel changed digit
I sit with a nasty network intervenes plan
with a stable diet of my cable pirate
yo, the doctor is in, the doctor is on
born the bastard son of static radiance cloned to welcome in every home
lead a blue screen, bruised dream canope
victim of the cursed nursed Technicolor drunk support team
ooh, I love all advertisements
though accused by robot news casters who capture and pollute
spoon fed hazardous fog to joy luck catholic squad
please take me, please calm me, please make me a zombie
please I want to donate my brain to the monstrous Panasonic profit
now, twenty first century plagued
dispersed to wide eyed glamour addict patients
telecast patrons
blue be the propaganda banners, well, sure I'll be a Marine
with a clean sword and blue uniform, it only takes a dollar and a dream
and I abide great idiot box power supply, fuzz vapor,
black out of New York, hey honey, get the generator
I'm in a doom, doom generation, pacin', ancient electric secret
never sleepin' to miss the AM oasis
my name is a wired heart, sloppy obligation
turn my stilt into my guilt and have a chatter box blame frame adjacent station
make reality scrambled and suck the life out of a hidden vandal
and loving every minute of the gimmick, change the channel

plug it in, turn it on, prop me up against the couch
lights out, I ain't ever gonna have to leave my house
satellite dish, get up on my wish list, turn me to a tyrant
let my clean spirit dissolve through the appliance

plug it in, turn it on, be my mother when she's gone, great
wipe the spittle off my chinny-chin during the breaks
if I gotta go blind I'mma do it for the love of all television kind
and that's fine, and that's fine...

make me a star, I wanna touch gold
hold me suspended in a dream, mearly inches from the screen
deleted pa**ions sacrificed to one electron monster
crucify my little future to the monitor
damn it feels good, turn on, tune in
zoom in to hug the bug up in your family function
but the children seem to love it
yes mother, me and wild discovery
and heard the static flock to where I sleep
by the glow of that magic box big speaker
stereo mastered often kill the freak seekers, eyes spiraling
tangled in the star spangled wiring
I can turn from toxicated visuals
and all the kings horses abort the loyalty to royalty
f*** the fortress
riddle me with glee, hoist the end all telepromter above my sleeping head
I'll be dead by morning anyway
color my values with mundane humor in thirty minute tickets
to feel the magnetic seal picket censorship
I want commercials twenty four-seven
I wanna shop from my bed and set an
example for all my overworked, underpaid brethren
I bond with a six string(?) correspondence
and lurking circuitry circus
with allegiance pledged beyond the gla** surface
adamant students within the fine school of possessed graduate catalysts
channel zero addict, immaculate
it goes- big screen, little screen, any screen'll do
just let me hold the controller and I won't have to murder you

plug it in, turn it on, let my little eyes glaze
twenty screens lined up along the borders of the maze
I wanna see the five day forecast, fourteen days in advance
so I can get my two weeks notice every time the sun dance

plug it in, turn it on, silent fix better than nothing
let a once divine soul feel the functions of the hypnotist
the viciousness, ridiculous, peaking a dummy's interest
touch the power button meet your maker, ain't that something?

plug it in, turn it on, say goodbye to Sunday afternoon
fix the antenna, sit back and let disaster bloom
it's a beautiful sight, with a most ugly intention
but I taste it everyday and bathe inside the consequences

plug it in, turn it on, never once have you talked back to me
your majesty, I love you, I despise you
my everyday is sitcom, soaps, news, bad dramatization
come along with me, my friend for the most glorious sensation
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 16, 2008, 01:12:40 PM
rtist: Aesop ROCK
Album:  Float
Song:   Basic Cable
Typed by: multsanta@home.com

I was just about to post this as well.

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Jules Winnfield on October 16, 2008, 02:21:10 PM
Artist:  Heltah Skeltah F/ Illa Noyz
Album:   Nocturnal
Song:    Sean Price

Chorus:

I'm not sure anymore more
who is knocking at my door door
all the people that I knew
acted funny when big Ruck got some loot
But they can't see B, let my parabellum fly fly
cause I be god decipher devine vine
And a nigga can't test me an' mine mine
If you wanna come feel it, nigga come but twice

[Ruck]
Some say sean price is, nice-is on mic devices
Pack more power which make me more mightier than Isis
Try this, that's when the Ruck shakes the rictor
inflictsta bring pain my aim is to rip ya
picture you tryin to break through my path
my eight blasts all you f***in snakes in the gra**
went to hell with angel dust,plus i bust the devils lungs
with lyrics that come from tip of the tongue now you sprung
Sean sparks like John Starks in the fourth Quarter
Oughta meet my peeps, thats deeper than the tora
unforgettable like nat king,
louieville chill because my motherf***ing slap stings
this track brings, the average career to a halt
it ins't my fault you fell victim to my verbal a**ault
if i had dollars for every nigga who dared to battle me on microphones,
i'd f*** around and be a millionaire

[Illa Noyz]
chump starts it
from the dark resubmerge,
i splurge on herbs with verbs and the usage of my words
them beats is swollen off of trees and colon
then, lyrical functions
i flow like trees through broadway junctions
see punks get bent on constant
consistently
when D-R-U-G blesses them S-T-C
gods wnen black don't slack
never cut slack
they been back to the wack
snatch off like Jack
shit is, actual and factual
that my mental blast fools, it reacts like a gun tool
mental releases peices of no,
makin yo brains blow
got pros that froze like sub-zero and flows
i Jams like the Master shoot my lyrics like J
the emcee's run from my house i don't play
on that days to display dismay blow away
to play movie celebrities you done away like Fay

Chorus

[Ruck]
Word is Bon Jovi, niggas don't know me
Hoes blow me show me affection for constant erection
my direction is pistols pointed at niggas on bristol
who thought it was fun to pull guns and issue my dismissal
but you can't handle this,
cause I get scandalous when cannabis enters my system which makes me
more odd than tony randal bitch
due to circumstances and lyrical advances
'nother man die, why, cause of my verbal enhancements
transmit advances over my mental highway
I say what i wanna, smoke marijuana
gonna hit you with a verse so nigga nurse your f***in wounds
boom in my system keep me in time with tune

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Big Elle on October 16, 2008, 06:14:47 PM
artist:  ja rule, fat joe and jadakiss
track: new york new york

3rd verse

ayo it couldn't be sweeter, life's a bitch
depending on how u treat her u might get rich
it's guaranteed u gon die and u might get missed
for maybe two or three hours 'fore they light they spliffs
and that coke a get u a long time / but when i
let 'em know the dope is out it's like America online
the wise has awoken / and u know they say u
deserved it whenever u die with ur eyes open
i still hold the title  / cuz i'm in the hood with
the little motorcycles, stick-up kids hoppin out
with old rifles, just doin shit for nuttin they
so spiteful, hah i'm just like u
the word that niggas wanna merc u is in the air
double shot a 'gac and purple's in the air
and i'm not cocky i'm confident
so when u tell me i'm da best it's a compliment

killing me man

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: TATEguru v.2K9 on October 16, 2008, 06:43:07 PM
Where my comic-book geeks at?

[Pharaohe Monch on The Jigmasters - "Lyrical Fluctuation"]
Quote
Spit miraculous shit, drink Dracula's blood, exist for centuries

My DNA 'ventually, mends wounds, heals injuries

The identity unknown for obvious extremities

Pharaohe the a**a**in who was hired to kill Kennedy

The murder of Malcolm X my only aborted a**ignment

Reduce my molecules than pa** through solid confinement

The eclectic, collectively individual

Please, your f***in with the wrong individual

Why would one even combat an entity

In which one is attacked by absorbing your energy

I already peeped your verse before you said it

I scan the wack shit with through the powers of telekenitics
Pyro & Deac I see you...
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Big Elle on October 16, 2008, 06:46:42 PM
and just for good measure

artist: nas, jadakiss and luda
track: i  made u look

1st verse

now let's get it all in perspective
for all yall enjotment a song yall ca' step with
yall appointed me to bring rap justice
but i ain't 5-0 yall know it's nas yo
grey goose and a whole lotta hydro
only describe us as soldier survivors
stay laced in the best well dressed with finesse
in a white tee lookin' for wifey
thug girl who fly and talk so nicely
put her in the coupe so she ca' feel the nice breeze
we ca' drive thru the city no doubt / but don't
say my car's topless, say the titties is out
newness, here's the anthem put ur hands up
that u shoot with count ur loot with
push ur pool stick in ur new crib, same hand
that u hoop with swing around like u stupid
king a the town yeah i been that
u know i click-clack, where u and ur mens at
do the wop, do the smurf, baseball bat
rooftop like we bringing '88 back

2nd verse

ain't nuttin but trouble god / when i kick in the
door with D-Block, Bravehearts and the Double R
don't let me let the machine off / this is
methadone music that u could lean off,
Made U Look da remix with me up on it
copped ur shit now i break weed up on it
and everything is real i see / like my
niggas that been home but only got a jail ID

i helped the game it ain't help me / top five
dead or alive and that's just off one LP

and i still buzz, they feel coz / they
know the flow's "Ill" just like "Will" was
i'm just trying to make sure that my son's wealthy;outta shape
but i make sure that my gun's healthy; i'm a ape

u can't stand kiss / coming thru the hood
in a Aston Vanquish the colour a dandruff
they said we jumped him, i just let the gun snuff him
copped P, then turboed soon as they uncuffed him
this goes out to alla ur mans / why put u
in a verse, when i can put u in a Coroner van


street level hip hop don't come iller than this.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: That Bastard Crook on October 16, 2008, 07:05:36 PM
I see all y'all budget lyrics and I raise you "Nas Is Like"

1st verse

Heaven or Hell, clips inserted / A baby's being
Born same time my man is murdered, the beginning an' end
As far as rap-go it's only natural I explain /
My pla-teau and also what define's-my-name
First it was Nasty but time's-have-changed /
Now I'm a Artist known as hardcore my science-for-pain
I spent time-in-the-game, kept my mind-on-fame /
Saw fiends shoot up an' do lines-'a'-cocaine
Seen my close friends shot, flatline-am-I-sane /
That depends carry Mac-Tens to practice my aim
On rooftops tape CD Covers to trees / Line the
Barrel up with ya weak-picture then squeeze
Street-scriptures for lost-souls in the Cross-roads /
To the corner thugs hustlin' for cars that cost-dough
To the Big Dogs, livin' large, gettin' it nice /
Pushin' Big Toys, takin' charge enjoyin' ya life
It's what you make-it; suicide a few try to take-it /
A belt tied around they neck in Jail Cells naked
Heaven-or-Hell, Rap Legend, presence-is-felt /
An' of course N-A-S are the letters-that-spell

This verse is almost untoppable
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Anna Sasin on October 16, 2008, 07:08:56 PM
^^^co-sign,was bumping it 2day
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: K9 tha Pedigree on October 17, 2008, 09:42:26 AM
Da Les feat Maggz We on fire
2nd verse:
You dudes better shut up now or get shut
coz we dont only get bucks we get buck
u throwin your sets up we get u set up
for when we throwin our cheques up you getting checked up

Ooh wee those 1st 4 bars are ON FIRE
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 17, 2008, 10:08:22 AM
You see now Maggz I can understand. Tiltt, that whole set grinding seriously f***in hard and its showing. Don't know about best lyrics ever though.

On that Nas tip, combo post containing both the best and worst lyrics ever to some extent. I qualify best ever here as influenced by flow and fit to the instrumental along with content, rhymes,captivation factor etc.

For the worst see bold, the rest I figure is fresh.

[Chorus repeated and stuff]
Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ
He's just nice, he just slice like a ginsu
Look at the life that I been through
I'm the last real n**** alive, that's official

[Nas]
Y'all don't know about my Biggie wars
Who you thought 'Kick In The Door' was for?
But that's my heart, y'all still trippin of this Jigga shit
Real niggas listen up and I'mma tell you how the whole thing start
Off top I brung Queens up from hard times
Rockin at the Fever, streets was all mine
It was my version of the blues, droppin our schools
The crack epidemic had rap representin new rules
So I, got in em shoes, tried em wore them
Wasn't a perfect fit, so I couldn't sport em
Young murderers ride, I knew all them
Jungle got shot, Will died, we was warring
I wrote it in my album
I was 18 when Lake seen the Island
And Lord held me down and
My surroundings started changing
I had a baby, I was making my rounds with AZ
N****s started noticing my flow and was open when
The Golden Child closed em in with more style than them older men
Puff tried to start a label, Prince Rakeem had formed Wu-Tang
Snoop and Dre had a new thang
So Puff drove his new Range through Queensbridge Projects
He let me drive it, before Ready to Die hit
BIG and I hit blunts performing at the Arc
Next thing you knew, BIG blew and all the balling starts
He had Kim and his crew, I found Fox, only niggas in New York with number
one charts
BIG was ahead of his time, him and Raekwon my niggas
But dig it, they couldn't get along
That's when Ghostface said it on the Purple tape
Bad Boy biting Nas album somebody fill in the adlib
BIG told me Rae was stealing my slang
And Rae told me out in Shaolin BIG would do the same thing
But I borrowed from both them niggas
Jigga started to flow like us, but hit with 'Ain't No N****s'
Had much Versace swagger
BIG admired the Brooklyn knight and it took him in as Iceberg the rapper
Today don't know nothing, about this bullshit
There's more shit than wanting to be this King of New York shit

[Chorus blah blah]

[Nas]
Rap became a version of Malcom and Martin
Rest In Peace Will, Queensbridge live on
There's some ghetto secrets I can't rhyme in this song
There's some missing pieces I had to leave out
I had lot trust for Steve Stoute (sp)
At some point till I got to know him
We old friends, but what's loyal?
Puff soaked Interscope offices
With champagne bottles on Steve, and Steve thought the drama is on me
Cause previously it would have been, against whoever
Friends forever
However, I learn, with some niggas it's all business
But I'm a street dude with morals
To diss n****s with Jigga too much, he used to say Jay wanted my spot
I laughed, stayed home, never hung a lot
A quiet man who used to be alone planning
Baby moms thought I was too quiet, couldn't stand it
She hit the streets, later on she hittin the sheets
With a rapper who wanted me on his songs, thinking he strong
I taught her how to watch for cars that might follow
Tauht her street shit that I know
Her weakness was shine yo
But that's her, I ain't mad baby, it made me stronger
Now I get my paper longer
Illmatic I was boss
It Was Written I flossed
One of the most creative LPs ever to hit stores
In the Firm I learned I am Nastradamus
QB's Finest, Oochie Wally, faced more problems
I gave it all up so I can chill at home with mama
She was getting old and sick so I stayed beside her
We had the best times, she asked would I make more songs
I told her not till I see her health get more strong
In the middle of that, Jay tried to sneak attack
a**asinate my character, degrade my hood
Cause in order for him to be the Don, Nas had to go
The Gam-B-I-N-O rules I understood
What you want, see, I already had
The Gift and The Curse? f*** that shit, the first shall be last
I'm the man's man, a rapper's rapper
G-O-D S-O-N, they'll be none after
I was Scarface, Jay was Manolo
It hurt me when I had to kill him and his whole squad for dolo [for dolo echoes]

[Outtro]


[Chorus etc]

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: That Bastard Crook on October 17, 2008, 10:08:57 AM
Again I raise you "Nas Is Like", 2nd verse

"Nas is like..Earth, Wind and Fire, rims an' tyres /
Bulletproof gla** inside is the realest driver
Planets in Orbit, line 'em up with the Stars /
Tarot-Cards, you ca' see da Pharoah-Nas

Nas is like... Iron Mike, Messiah Type /
Before the Christ, after the death, the last one left

Let my cash invest-in-stock / We came
A long way from blasting Techs-on-blocks
Went from Seiko to Rolex an' ownin' Acres /
From the Projects with no chips to large cake-dough
Dimes givin' fellatio, Siete zeros /
Bet my Nines spit for the Pesos

But what's it all worth?  / Can't take it wid you under
This Earth rich men died and tried but none of it worked
They just rob ya grave, I'd rather be alive and paid /
'Til my number's called, history's made
Some 'a' fall but I rise, Thug or Die / Makin'
Choices that determine my future under the sky
To rob, steal or kill, l'm wonderin' why /
It's a dirty-game, is any man worthy-of-fame?
Much success to ya even though you wish me the opposite /
Sooner or later we'll all see who the Prophet-is


Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 17, 2008, 10:27:39 AM
I thought The panic meant this to be about the best lyrics in hip hop history, not what's currently hot on MTV.

Pharoahe on High Voltage

Quote
Who's the man demandin' you hand over your Land Rover?
No man's bolder than the Pharoah when he jams your plans over.
I inflict sclerosis; the most ferocious--
when I spy my third-eye is extremely high voltage.
That's why I need Ruby Quartz gla**es--
'cause when I glance there's a chance
that I might blast the ma**es.
Subliminals transmitted through piano--
integrated in flow; calculated in nano.
I use skills when I need; please heed the rhyme--
I heal when I bleed when I proceed through time.
I walk through walls and inanimate obstacles;
by inducing the reduction of cells and molecules.
I bring the knowledge; you swallow a steak that's a hologram--
I box your head, fatten your lip like Collagen.
The telepath delivers verses with no postage--
Pharaoh Monch, Mike Shinoda we high voltage.



Even Mike Shinoda's verse on this track is better than half the shit posted here.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: rob_one on October 17, 2008, 10:41:07 AM
I thought The panic meant this to be about the best lyrics in hip hop history, not what's currently hot on MTV.

Pharoahe on High Voltage

Quote
Whos the man demanding you hand over your Land Rover?

No mans bolder than the Pharoahe when he jams

The plans over

I have fake sclerosis

The most ferocious

Why I spy, my third eye, distinctly high voltage

Thats why I need Ruby Quartz gla**es

Cause when I glance theres a chance I might blast the ma**es

Subliminals trasmitted through piano

Integrated in flow

Calculated to nano

I use skills when I need

Please head the rhyme I hear when I plead when I proceed through time

I walk through walls an inanimate obsticles

Via induced reduction of cells and molecules

I bring the knowledge

You swallow the state

Thats a hologram

I box your head

Fatten your lip like Collogen

A telepath to deliver verses with no postage

Pharoahe Monch, Mike Shinoda

We high voltage

Even Mike Shinoda's verse on this track is better than half the shit posted here.

That remix blew my f***ing head off when I heard it. Dopeness from start to finish; easily the best thing Mike Shinoda has done or ever will do.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on October 17, 2008, 10:42:19 AM
Time to break out the Despot....

Track: Crap Artists


Everyone clap for the crap artists
A pat on the back to whichever one sounds smartest
Capture the magic of blabbering half-hearted
And the last rambling man standing laughs hardest
Can't handle the grandstanding on red carpets
Doin' the camera flash thing in new pants, targets
Doin' it to catch a glance of a new fast startin'
They only listen to what you spinnin' what the bad part is
Eyes glazed over watchin' idols cry for food
Words big as their appetites and none of ‘em are true
Fresh outta shit to say but still got plenty to prove
These words are made for talkin' and talkin's not for you
My sleeves are stuffed with better ways to say things
I pull ‘em out at the first hit and it's spellbreakin'
Real magic making for an honorable mention
So rap where people can see you my weak homies' tentin'
Only tip my hat to cats to scratch the doors in it
Fill it up, wanna rap and distract the lost children
Make a living offa milkin' ‘em for teardrops
And mashin' work together till the motherf***in' beat stops
Soon enough they'll tell you that you're spoutin out their dreams
Not the racket of an idiot with eyes on that supreme spot
And a foldin' chair to pull up at the top
For a seat next to the door that where the shit that doesn't stink drops
Could almost see it every time I pitch rocks
Camped out in a gla** house with a slingshot

I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me

Great job rapping, now the second hand knows your name
And it's playing bloody knuckles with your 15 minutes of fame
That's bout off the top ten list just a stain
But everything looks better when you put it in a frame
Just hang it next to that impressive portrait of your pain
And nag about how it's unfortunate to be the same
Charge ‘em for repeat because your mouth's quick thanks for comin'
Superstar mystique couldn't see what but it was stunnin'
Get every rhythm and crowd buzzin'
Till that old fat lady is too weak to sing above it
So it's over when it's muffled by the rumble of her stomach
Or somebody tends to shovel thinkin' they finally struck it
For the deeper meaning thinkers who treasures the whoopee cushion
And a fresh new grave you already put your foot in
Sitting on a secret now you're embarra**ed for looking
And that big red button looks about right for pushing
Some of us took the magic beans for food
So whoever farts the loudest is obviously the truth
And what could make me prouder than pourin' salt in the wounds
Of them kids that still believe cows jump over moons
Something to do while makin' sure you all stay dizzy
Ball up the fists squeeze the life out of pretty
Wait until their back's turned, screaming,, don't hit me
And they'll find no pity because the sign said kick me

I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me
I get paid to breathe, hooray for me, hooray for me, hooray for me


RAISE.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 17, 2008, 10:55:06 AM
That remix blew my f***ing head off when I heard it. Dopeness from start to finish; easily the best thing Mike Shinoda has done or ever will do.

I disagree. I think that honour has to go to "Hands held high" off the last album.

The beat is the definition of minimilastic, yet so perfect that I don't see how it canbe improved at all. His rhymes on there are also perfect and say a lot. I love that song.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: rob_one on October 17, 2008, 10:59:07 AM
I thought Hands Held High was good, but I enjoyed High Voltage more. Remember the Name of his solo LP is pretty dope too.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: The Angry Hand of God on October 17, 2008, 11:11:20 AM
I thought Hands Held High was good, but I enjoyed High Voltage more. Remember the Name of his solo LP is pretty dope too.

Which solo LP? Wasn't remember the name on the Fort Minor album?

They're good, but there is jst something lacking for SOB when they're not with MIKe.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: rob_one on October 17, 2008, 11:13:00 AM
I thought Hands Held High was good, but I enjoyed High Voltage more. Remember the Name of his solo LP is pretty dope too.

Which solo LP? Wasn't remember the name on the Fort Minor album?

They're good, but there is jst something lacking for SOB when they're not with MIKe.

Fort Minor was the solo album. It was called The Rising Tied. Agree with you about SOB but they were basically just guest stars - that was all Mike.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Big Elle on October 17, 2008, 11:34:13 AM
tru-life feat. saigon "we gon ride" 2nd verse

is love stronger than hate, is hate the reason the
got longer to wait for me to conquer the state

well if it is then listen here and please listen clear
i swear it's time for the wackness to disappear
be gon wit / cuz i'm a treat the back of ur
f***ing head like a drum and use my gun to beat on it
i'll put my unborn seed on it / my niggas could
fight, Suge Knight could get it if he want it


straight gully with it

mobb deep feat. nas "thug life is mine" 1st verse

i got the style of a stillborn child; i'm ill
if it's beef poke him with the fork make sure he done well

the streets raised me crazy, now i'm immune to it
so when they start the shooting we don't stop the music
keep it moving that's how we do it / been thru
more drama than the Baldwins; u still crawlin

apply street moves to the office, high-performance
rap author make millions off 'a'
melodic, hypnotic productions / that a
touch ur emotions and f*** with ur conscience
u feel me? i write a graphic page / escort
niggas to they grave, relate to the projects

we the black mobb; it get more deeper than just rap music
it's more real than any words i could muster
pull 'em black Cadillac trucks up / hop out
them shits like what? yall niggas can't touch us

before the G-Unot sell-out these cats singlehandedly held it down for the east coast on that gully, grimy tip for whole decade. cla**ic.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: triplelife on October 17, 2008, 02:30:50 PM
NO-ONE is messing with Raiko quotes on this thread. :o

SOUL ON ICE

Nature of the threat!.......cant be arsed to find the lyrics still....
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Anna Sasin on October 17, 2008, 04:56:00 PM
Nature of The Threat

Let freedom ring with a buckshot, but not just yet
First we need to truly understand the nature of the threat
And a pale man walks in the threshold of darkness
Roughly 20,000 years ago the first humans evolved
with the phenotypical trait, genetic recessive
Blue eyes, blonde hair and white skin
Albinism apparently was a sin to the original man, Africans
So the mutants traveled North of the equator
Called Europeans later, the first race haters
So here's the Devil's alpha to the beta
Cause history's best qualified to teach one
Quoting German philosopher Schopenhauer
"Every white man is a faded or a bleached one"
Migration created further mutation
Genetic drifts, evolution through recombination
Adaptation to the climate
As the Caucus Mountain man reverted to that of a primate
Savage Neanderthals, until the late Paleolithic age
That's when the Black Grimaldi man came
With the symbol of the dragon, fire and art
Check cave paintings in France and Spain to the Venus of Willendorf
Around 2000 B.C. Southern Russians migrate in small units
Those who travel West populated Europe
Those who went East settled in Iran, known as Aryans
1500 B.C. some crossed the Khyber Pa** into India and
created Hinduism, the first caste system, the origins of racism
A white dot on the forehead meant elite
The black dot - defeat; untrustable, untouchables
They wrote the holy Vedas in Sanskrit
That's the language that created Greek, German, Latin and English
Now the Minoans around 2000 B.C.
Starts on the island of Crete, in the Agean Sea
The Greek culture begins Western Civilization
But "Western Civilization" means "White Domination"
Myceneans learned from Kemet, called Egypt in Greek
It existed since at least 3000 B.C.
Creatin geometry and astronomy
This knowledge influenced Plato, Socrates and Hippocrates
Cause Imhotep, the real real father of medicine
Was worshiped in Greece and Rome in the form of a Black African
The word Africa comes from the Greek "Aphrike"
meaning "without cold"; the word philosophy means "love of knowledge"
Stole from first man, Greek power expands
The first Greek fraternities band
The word gymnasium is Greek for "naked"
This was the place where adolescent boys were educated, and molested
This was accepted because Greek culture was homosexual
For example, Sappho trained girls on the island of Lesbos
Hence, the word lesbian (Ay let these dumb motherf***ers know)
December 25th, the birth of Saturn
A homosexual god, now check the historical pattern
December 25, now thought the birth of Christ
Was Saturnalia, when men got drunk,
f***ed each other then beat their wife
Fact is, it was still practiced, til they called it Christmas
So put a gerbil on your Christmas list
The Hellenistic Era, Alexander the Great
Conquers all the way to India leavin four successor states
By the Fifth century B.C., R.O.M.E.
succeeds to be the conqueror of Egypt and Greece
But had the threat of the Black Phoenicians in Sicily
The Punic Wars began 264 B.C.
The Black general Hannibal and Carthaginian Peace
In 146 B.C. Carthage fell after a six-month siege
Rome sold every citizen to slavery
The first genocide of history
And more bisexuality in sight; Julius Caesar was known as
"every woman's husband and every man's wife" (BEOTCH!)
Spartacus Revolt, a slave rebellion that lost
Where 6,000 slaves was nailed on a cross
Cross? Aw, shit! Jesus Christ! Time for some-act-right
Christians get your facts right
Cause Christ was not his name
That's Greek for "One who is anointed"
Yahshua Ben Yosef was his name, do Christians know this?
So who do you praise, do you know his name?
Or do you do this in vain?
Accepting the religion they gave slaves to behave
Peep the description of historian Josephus
"Short, dark, with an underdeveloped beard was Jesus"
He had the Romans fearing revolution
The solution was to take him to court and falsely accuse him
After being murdered by Pilate how can it be
these same white Romans established Christianity
Constantine would later see the cross in a dream
In his vision, it read "En Hawk Signo Wonka":
"In this sign we conquer" - Manifest Destiny
In 325 he convened the Nicean Creed
And separated god into three
Decided Jesus was born on December 25th
and raised then on the third day is a myth
Plus to deceive us
Commissioned Michelangelo to paint white pictures of Jesus
He used his aunt, uncle, and nephew
Subconsciously that affects you
It makes you put white people closer to God
(Yo, 'The Man' got game like a motherf***er!)
True indeed, f*** it, Jihad
In the eight century Muslims conquered
Spain, Portugal and France and controlled it for 700 years
They never mention this in history cla**
cause o'fays are threatened when you get the real lesson
Moors from Baghdad, Turkey threatened European Christians
Meaning, the white way of life; hence the Crusades for Christ
On November 25th, 1491
Santiago defeats the last Muslim stronghold, Grenada
King Ferdinand gave thanks to God for victory
And the Pope of Rome and declared this date to forever be
A day of "Thanksgiving" for all European Christians

.. Now listen, when you celebrate "Thanksgiving"
What you are actually celebratin
is the proclamation of the Pope of Rome
Who later, in league with Queen Isabella
sent Cardinal Ximenos to Spain
to murder any blacks that resisted Christianity
These Moors, these black men and women
were from Baghdad, Turkey
And today, you eat the turkey, for your "Thanksgiving" day
as the European Powers destroyed the Turkeys
Who were the forefathers of your mothers and fathers
Now fight the power, you bitch-a** niggaz!

Now around this time, Whites started callings us Negroes
That's Spanish for black object meaning we're not really people
but property, and the triangle trade begins - they seize us
Queen Elizabeth sends the first slaves on a ship named Jesus
Stealin land from the indigenous natives
Gave them alcohol to keep the Red Man intoxicated
Whites claim they had to civilize these pagan animals
But up until 1848 there's documented cases
of whites bein the savage cannibals, eatin Indians
In 1992, it's Jeffery Dahmer
They slaughtered a whole race with guns
Drugs, priests and nuns
1763, the first demonic tactic of biological warfare
As tokens of peace, Sir Jeffery Amherst
pa**ed out clothin and blankets to the Indian community
Infested with small pox, knowin they had no immunity
Today it's AIDS, you best believe it's man made
Cause ain't a damn thing changed.. let me explain
Now since people of color are genetically dominant
and Caucasoids are genetically recessive
and Whites expect to be predominant, meaning survive as a race then
they simply must, take precautions
That's why they're worried about their future now
Cuz by 2050, almost all the Earth's population
will be brown, then black, so understandin that, whites counterreact
(I'm sayin.. man.. them fools
ain't nothin but a teaspoon of milk in the world color majority)
So they created a system
to force blacks into an unnatural position
That re-enforces the position of natural inferiority
In addition, created guns and developed the ethnocentric view
that God justifies every f***in thing they do
Condition people to perceive whites' culture as civilized
and every other culture considered primitive - not true!
Racism is the system of racial subjugation against nonwhites
in every areas of human relation
Entertainment, education, labor, politics
Law, religion, sex, war and economics
See blacks were 3/5ths of a man with tax purposes intended
You think you're Afro-American?
You're a 14th amendment and a good nigga
Jews don't salute the f***in swastika
but niggaz pledge allegiance to the flag that accosted ya
They never teach about the break of islands like Jamaica
But before slaves came here whites would take a
pregnant women, hang her from a tree by her toes
Slice her stomach with a knife
and let the unborn baby fall to the flo'
And stop an unborn child in front of all the slaves
to inbreed fear, so they'd be scared and behave
and not rebel more
Understand all whites must be perceived as potential predators
I paraphrase historian Ishakamusa Barashango
"Understand that regardless of the lofty ideas ingraved on paper
in such documents as the Constitution or Declaration
the basic nature.. of the European American white man
remains virtually unchanged".. so check
This is the nature of the threat
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: blak boy on October 21, 2008, 11:32:34 AM
Vast Aire - Stress Rap

[starvin... Harlem]
yo, yo, elohim, with the rhyme scheme
and when the lyrics leave the mouth they look like light beams
with wings attached to mic I say fly rhymes
read between the lines [Aire Vast lines]
the beat be tryin' to sex me and marry me
I'm talking white picket fence and a family [of Vasts]
they stand behind me, and reflect reality
stage one- master of ceremonies
and when the seven magnificent walked in
raisin' hell to lower heaven
we explored all the crevices
brothers is mad I wear knowledge like a third degree, burn,
light the match, put it to the rhyme book, make sure it all fits in the urn
the cream of life, beats and rhymes are butter
that in which I churn
stupid, you could say these masculine thoughts are homosexual
'cause they blow heads like that dead clothes designer
all men were created equal, emcees are uneven
ask blind man Steven if he's even seen how the sunset looks
that's something you couldn't feel with a braille book
I'm hear to smack your ear drum long, so hum along
let's communicate with rhythm, tell 'em to come along
you'll get smacked right in the kisser like Jackie Gleason
and watch sun/son set it off like light decreasing, oh shit
watch sun/son set it off like light decreasing


2nd verse
[Vast]
yo it's the starvin', happy Harlem, rap magician
chained underwater, in sixty seconds the body's missing
snake in the gra** at six feet you can hear him hissin'
I got a problem with your mouth, so I don't listen
stress rap, you got one, I got five
you do yours, I do mine, but I'm still alive
they used to call me crazy joe, had a bazooka
now they can call me batman, beyond your maneuvers
shit, I'm Atoms Fam to the bone marrow
f*** a soul, even God knows this body is hollow
you love New York, but New York don't love you
you're just a toy with Lucille Ball's hairdo
on the mic it's all magic and I got short sleeves
and I'm just that nice, I might let you breathe
put a mic in front of me, and I'm gonna bless it
hummingbird style, seventy times in one second
hummingbird style, seventy times in one second


way dope
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on October 21, 2008, 06:25:04 PM
Artist: Jay-Z
Album:  Kingdom Come
Song:   Kingdom Come

[Intro] (Sample courtesy of "Superfreak" by Rick James)
I don't know what life will be in H.I.P. H.O.P.
Without the boy H.O.V. (I will be, I will be)
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor (Yeah)
When kingdom come, you ready? (I will be)
When kingdom come, I'm ready (I will be)
When kingdom come (Yeah, yeah) I'm ready
(Hey! Hey! Hey Hey Hey!!!)

[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Now everywhere I go they like HOV you back
Up out the corner office out the coldasack
Where's Iceberg Slim he was the coldest cat
Get your swag back daddy where your focus at
Got to admit a little bit I was sick of rap
But despite that the boy is back
And I'm so evolved I'm so involved
I'm showing growth, I'm so in charge
I'm C.E.O. and yeah going god
I'm so indebted, I should have been deaded
Sellin blow in the park, this I know in my heart
Now I'm so enlightened I might glow in the dark
I been up in the office you might know him as Clark
But, just when you thought the whole world fell apart
I - take off the blazer losen up the tie
Step inside the booth Superman is alive


[Chorus: Jay-Z] (Sample courtesy of "Superfreak" by Rick James)
(I will be) The King Of New York (I will be) New York
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor (Yeah)
When kingdom come, you ready? (I will be)
When kingdom come, uh huh (I will be)
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah, yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor
(Hey! Hey! Hey Hey Hey!!!)

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
I hear "hurry up Hov" when I'm out in the public
Cause niggas like it, you love it; We be it, you're of it
You breathe it, we need it; bring it back to the hustlas
Had to dust off the Hammer, dance - can't touch this
C'mon playboys, bring the cars back out
Cause ya boy Hov is back, you know them broads comin out
Got 'em dancing on the bankhead, like they from Bankhead
f*** Cristal, so they ask me what we drinking
I thought dudes remark was rude okay
So I moved on to Dom Cuvée Rose
And it's much bigger issues in the world, I know
But I first had to take care of the world I know
I'm from the bottom, so I still feel em from the bottom
Underdog before my cape, still couldn't stop him
Flash Gordon when recording, spark the light in the dark
Peter Park, Spiderman, all I do is climb the charts


[Chorus: Jay-Z] (Sample courtesy of "Superfreak" by Rick James)
(I will be) The King Of New York (I will be) New York
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor (Yeah)
When kingdom come, you ready? (I will be)
When kingdom come, uh huh (I will be)
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah, yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor
(Hey! Hey! Hey Hey Hey!!!)

[Verse 3: Jay-Z]
Just when they thought it was all over
I put the whole world on my back and broad shoulders
The War-Hova, but who you know took over tracks like that
Guess what New York, New York - we back
And I ain't never been afraid of a drought
Since I was six, seventeen been gettin money down south
Bout it, bout it, Master P
Ask the nigga Pimp C, ask my homey Bun B
I run the streets the streets don't run we
Y'all run, we chill still waters run deep
I repeat, sing a long with me
I run the streets the streets don't run we
Ladies sayin where you been Superman?
When niggas spendin ten million in media on my hands
The Bruce Wayne of the game have no fear
When you need me just throw your ROC signs in the air, yeah!


[Chorus: Jay-Z] (Sample courtesy of "Superfreak" by Rick James)
(I will be) The King Of New York (I will be) New York
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor (Yeah)
When kingdom come, you ready? (I will be)
When kingdom come, uh huh (I will be)
Not only N.Y.C. I'm hip hop's savior (Yeah, yeah)
So after this flow you might owe me a favor
(Hey! Hey! Hey Hey Hey!!!)
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on November 05, 2008, 12:34:24 AM
Artist: Ahmad
Album: Ahmad
Song: Back in the Day

Chorus: repeat 4X

Back in the days when I was young I'm not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again

Verse One:

I remember (back in the days)
When I just a little niggerole
I looked up to my bigger bro
Begged if I could kick it so
when he went out with girls I could go taggin along
Naggin if she had a sis maybe could mack a baby hoodrat
Y'all remember way back then, when it was 1985
all the way live, I think I was about ten
One of those happy little niggaz singin the blues
That be always tryin to bag with the shag and karate shoes
Sayin "Yo momma black, his momma this, his momma that"
Then he get mad and wanna scrap
We stay mad about, ten minutes then it's like back on the bike
To play hide and go get it with the younger hoes by the bungaloes
Then switch to playin ding dong ditch, when that gets
old and too cold to hack it, threw on a bomber jacket
You could tell the ballers cuz they bell wearin Gazelles
And if they really had money raised be sportin BK's
and, all the girls had they turkish link
If it broke then they made earrings to it, like they meant to do it
But, sometimes, I still sit and reminesce
Then, think about the years I was raised, back in the days

Chorus

(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(what?) (back in the day) (when?) (back in the day)

Verse Two:

I'm still back in the days, but now the year is '87
'88 that's when my crew and I were in junior high
In 7th grade, I hated school wish it'd blown up
No doubt I couldn't wait to get out (and be a grownup)
But let me finish this reminescin and tellin
Bout when girls was bellin tight courderoys like for the boys
basket weaves, Nike Cortez, and footsie socks
And eatin pickles, with tootsie pops
And it don't stop, I'm glad cuz when J.J. Fad hit
Supersonic it was kinda like a sport to wear biker shorts
or, to wear jeans and it seemed like the ma**es
of hoochies, had poison airbrushed on they a**es
Dudes, had on Nike suits, and the Pumas with
the fat laces, cuz it was either that or K-Swiss
I miss those days, and so I pout like a grown jerk
Wishin all I had to do now, was finish homework
It's true, you don't realize really what you got til it's gone
and I'm not, gonna sing another sad song, but
Sometimes I do sit and reminesce then
Think about the years I was raised, back in the days

Chorus

(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(what?) (back in the day) (when?) (back in the day)

(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(what?) (back in the day) (when?) (back in the day)

Verse Three:

Well, it's the niggerole, I figure that now I'm all grown up
Because I'm eighteen years old, and guess you could say I'm holdin
down a steady job and crew steady mobbin
you steady bobbin your head and I'm paid, so I got it made
But, didn't always have clout, used to live in South Central L.A.
That's where I stayed and figured a way out
I gave it all I had so for what it's worth
I went, from rags to riches which is a drag but now I'm first
So Ahmad and The Jones' is on our way up
Yup, we said that we was gonna make it since a kid
and we finally did, but
Sometimes I still sit there reminescin
Think about the years I was raised, back in the days

Chorus

(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(what?) (back in the day) (when?) (back in the day)

(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(and everybody say) (I remember way back when)
(what?) (back in the day) (when?) (back in the day)

Back in the days when I was young I'm not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: SolitaryNative on November 05, 2008, 09:00:22 AM
Word on that Ahmad.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on November 05, 2008, 08:57:59 PM
Yo...some of that Pharcyde is is too dope. Was listening to that track YO MAMA...some funny ish right there.
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on November 18, 2008, 11:31:30 PM
Artist: Bahamadia
Album:  Kollage
Song:   Word Play
                                     
   Peep my credentials involving instruments rhymes ma**age the cells in
    your mental relieves you of the babblin' that you use to every since
   the departing days of the juice crew my style been milk like a bottle
    of YooHoo was neva mc monkey see monkey do I move through baby real
   natural pose for "illadel" when I gets lyrical ou-ou like Cool Cee use
     to do I make the kids wanna Rah like Afu shouts to Mecca cause the
    planets mad digable allow me to pause and hit the Mork nanu - nanu-wordplay
                                     
     My aura is psychedelic flow non-prehistoric metamorphic boric like
   acid no hat tricks a cla**ic so park that a** like Jura**ic and check
    the matrix completed like 7 (seven) to overshadow the triple 6 (six)
   complimenting zig-a-zicks with wisdom like the 5 percenters when doing
    mathematics flips scripts like acrobatics intrinsic in rapping like
    insulin to diabetics text is didactic with nutrience like muslix on
    wax flex facts like hydraulics when vexed to catch flicks by Miramax
         or Kodak I looks beyond the door like 100x for Wordplay...
                                     
    Breaks out analogies like pollen do allergies got the vocab like the
    Fugees to collect gees top Bill like Bellamy shocking hardcore headz
   like electricity cuts come complimentary of jockey Sean-Ski yo vocally
     BAHAMA-D be easy like Moe-Bee raps react radio act like DJ Ran and
   Colby to the Roots like Malik B. flows pose as noise reduction on MCs
   like dolby down by law like felonies catchy like T-B Essential to the
                  Elements like Ceceley with Wordplay ...

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Headwarmaz on December 09, 2008, 05:34:58 PM
Artist: Eminem f/ Bizarre (D-12)
Album:  The Marshall Mathers LP
Song:   Amityville

   (kill kill kill)
Dahh-dum, dahh-dum.. dum
Dahh-dum, dahh-dum, duh-da-da-da-da
   (kill kill kill)
Dahh-dum, dahh-dum.. dum
Dahh-dum, dahh-dum, dumm..
   (kill kill kill)

Chorus: Eminem

Mentally illll from Amityvilllle (ILLLL)
Accidentally killll your family stillll
Thinkin he won't?  God-damnit he willll (HE'SSSS)
Mentally illll from Amityvilllle

[Eminem]
I get lifted and spin til I'm half-twisted
Feet planted and stand with a grin full of chapped lipstick {*SMACK*}
Pen full of ink, think sinful and rap sick shit
Shrink pencil me in for my last visit
Drink gin til my chin's full of splashed whiskers {*whoosh*}
Hash whiskey and ash til I slap bitches {*smack*}
Ask Bizzy, he's been here the past six years
Mash with me you'll get in imagine this

Chorus 2X

[Bizarre]
I ***d my cousin in his ***, *** my mother's throat
{*AHHHHHHHH!*} Guess who Slim Shady just signed to Interscope?
My little sister's birthday, she'll remember me
For a gift I had ten of my boys take her ****
{*Mmm mm mmm!*} And bitches know me as a horny-a** freak
Their mother wasn't raped, I ate her **** while she was 'sleep
Pissy-drunk, throwin up in the urinal (YOU f***IN HOMO!)
That's what I said at my dad's funeral

Chorus 2X

[Eminem]
That's why the city is filled with a bunch of f***in idiots still (still)
That's why the first motherf***er poppin some shit he gets killed (killed)
That's why we don't call it Detroit, we call it Amityville ('Ville)
You can get capped after just havin a cavity filled (filled)
Ahahahaha, that's why we're crowned the murder capital still (still)
This ain't Detroit, this is motherf***in Hamburger Hill! (Hill!)
We don't do drivebys, we park in front of houses and shoot
and when the police come we f***in shoot it out with them too!
That's the mentality here (here) that's the reality here (here)
Did I just hear somebody say they wanna challenge me here?? (huh?)
While I'm holdin a pistol with this many calibres here?? (here??)
Plus some registration that just made this shit valid this year? (year?)
Cause once I snap I can't be held accountable for my actions
That's when accidents happen,
when a thousand bullets come at your house
and collapse the foundation around you and they found you
and your family in it (AHHHHH!)
GOT DAMNIT HE MEANT IT WHEN HE TELLS YOU

Chorus 2X

Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum, tahh-dum.. ta-dah-da
Dum..



(http://www.impawards.com/2005/posters/amityville_horror.jpg)
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Trinidad-Hux on December 10, 2008, 09:36:14 AM
Jadakiss on Run: It's task force Tuesday the narcs is in a black car / I got 500, 100 packs in ma backyard / clear twelve-twelve's that look like stuffed shells / Im cuttin niggaz throats on da stairs while they puff L's / don't leave nothin unbagged, shave everythin / I learnt from the O.G's to save everythin / they come by one more time they gon' hop out / they two-deep and one is a bi*** she get knocked out / man I can get rid of da pack / but I just copped this pretty chrome thing so Im dippin with that / now Im shiftin on em like I got gears on me / my timbs start feelin like they nike airs on me / It's hard for me to slow down it's like Im on da through-way / my belt's in da crib on da floor by my two-way / now Im tryina hold my hammer up and my pants too / I f they don't kill me they gon' give me a number I can't do / rather it be the streets than jail where I die at / and Im asthmatic so Im lookin for somewhere to hide / but they too close / and I got this new toast / maybe I shouldve let off a shot or two / you know what I gotta do.     
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Mprofeti the Radical Process on December 10, 2008, 10:13:20 AM
Canibus ft Rakim

Quote
(Canibus)
Yo, yo...
Now on some battlin' shit my verbal lateral grip
Keeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' my shit
Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips
And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix
f*** a pad and a pen, write rhymes on an IBM
Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in
Canibus practices in a room wit a thousand candles lit
Meditating on this rap shit
Because my freestyle reigns sovereign
Wit a deeper conscious than the prophet Muhammad was born wit
My brain cavity's enormous
My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the 7 shakras
While the right one harnesses darkness
The type of dark that makes a house haunted
The type of dark that niggaz get lost in
The type of dark you fear when you're dead in a coffin
I hear you talkin' but I ignore it
Cause you garbage and your rhymes borin'
So keep standin' on the corner,
the thrash-man will collect you in the mornin'
Thug cats frontin'
Wacker than Blinky Blink
on the back of the Reptar wagon babblin' about - nothin'
f*** that real rugrats could get it on, black
Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggaz get mugged at
so dark you never see the blood splat
and you cant even react
cause the trunk is where you keep the guns at
Rubber faced rappers get stretched like elastic claymation

Fake MCs haul a** like they runnin' track
Where ever Canibus or Rakim is at

(Canibus) Let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Naw, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Ra, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Naw,let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Naw, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Ra, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Naw, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Naw, I'ma punish 'em
(Canibus) Come on Ra, let me bust 'em
(Rakim) Yo Bis, I'ma punish 'em

(Rakim)
Be ready and at ya best
The celebrity match of death
Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest
Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath
Then I asked the ref, "how many cats is left?"
One on one, who challenging? Come get did
All I have is a pen and punish you kids
Abdomen punctured and look what I done to his wig
Wanna live then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib
Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine
Rematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime
Get your snot-box smashed with a 9
Smacked with a rhyme, push your forehead to the back of your mind
Try to explain what it's like seeing your brain
Your insane, soon to be ID'ed as remains
Then I reincarnate 'em and kill 'em again
Again and again, again and again

(Chorus)

(Canibus):
Yo, yo….
The battle started with a grapple
He had real long hair so a grabbed a hand full
And chopped 'em in the Adams-apple
His partner in back of you tried to attack you
So I'ma twist 'em up like a pret-zel then I'ma tag you
(Rakim):
I'm on some stone cold shit
Warn your whole click
Cartilage get torn until the whole bone split
Who wanna spit, bang quick, strangle 'em wit his lip He tried to flip
but I left his body danglin'

(Canibus):
You left 'em danglin'
I can't believe he wanna grapple again
I swing 'em around like I was dancing wit 'em
Put his arms in back of his head and snapped 'em again
Then I grabbed his limbs and put in the figure-"6 subtracted from 10"

(Rakim):
Seven birds, make 'em swerve 'til their vision is blurred
Turn cats that suped from superb to nerds
Just say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb
And stick my dick in your ear and f*** what you heard :o :o :o

[\quote]
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Psyche-Optic on December 10, 2008, 10:36:57 AM
Artist: Jedi Mind Tricks f/ Bahamadia, Esoteric, Virtuoso
Album:  Violent By Design
Song:   Exertions (Remix)
 
Ikon the Hologram a.k.a Vinnie Paz

You get split in f***ing half
The Ikon the Hologram wrath
But I am the center inside the placenta of math
You clash with cyanide gas and die fast
Rythmical equivalent of solids, liquids and gas
We smash your science, with the power of Lord Titus
But I am the virus inside of the iris of Cyrus
Upon papyrus
I kill snipers and body vipers
And strangle you with the organs of rioters who try to fight us
Call me your highness
And sip the blood from the phoenix
Who's guilty like the Jews in the crucifixion of Jesus
Murder the heathens
And perish in a pit of cobras
Word is bond, my rhymes form into a swarm of locusts
Provoke us
And face the Zodiac killers
Five Samurai, do or die, fire spitters
Heavy hitters, from the lands of Sudan
Killadel Shambala Ikon the Hologram
What?
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Psyche-Optic on December 10, 2008, 11:03:54 AM
But this here has to be the tightest track I've ever heard. Tight in the way it's constructed, the depth, content, the delivery, and the sting. This track says so much.

Artist: Company Flow
Album:  Soundbombing 2
Song:   Patriotism

[El-Producto]
Do you know who you are..
Do you know who you are f***ing with?
Do you know, the access, to weapons, money and power
that we have?  We will f***ing kill you!

I'm the ugliest version of pa**ed down toxic capitalist
rapid emcee perversion -- I'm America!
Your bleeding-heart liberal drivel gets squashed
Wash em with sterilized rhyme patriot-guided weaponry bomb
from the makers of the devious hearts -- I'm America!
You bitchy little dogs don't even phase my basic policy
The bomb's smarter, my Ronald Reagan's crush Carter
With Bay of Pig tactics makin young men into martyrs
(Come on down!)  Come to my happy promised land
Smiley faced opportunity cypher
and jump on the CoFlow pension plan
A proletariat, crushing State of the Union
between serpentine words and ma** confusion
of media controlled blurb advertising disillusionment
Your family will love my low-rent, low-life
no-brain, reality-dagger, MOVEMENT
Hop over the border for amusement; try to test the waters
that the other slaughter crews pay all they dues in
You up against -- Jesus Freak, formin corporations in Young Republicans
Indelible NATO force hidden agenda, puppet governments
I'm lovin it!  Keep the people guessin who I'm runnin with
Control the population and hide behind sacred covenants
f***in with me?!?!  Means liberal wildlife burnin, gasoline seized
and an automagnetic third world printed with metal plates in they knees
Can't you hear the disenchanted, hide the scream of
Gabriel's reflected new wind instrument, a judgment played in flat C
I replace humans like robots in a GM factory (warning! warning!)
Then export metaphors to sweat shops, cause the price is satisfactory
Your pious little cries of injustice get met with apathy
(Awww, SHUT UP!!) Soak, cloak, hormone injected dairy product
and conservative right-wing anti-eroticism; the poisonous
resevoirs and power lines in your neighborhood cause botchilism
SENSELESS!  Join the census, censorship sentences sentence
Triple-felon citizen paid pennance!
Dissension against C-F ends in, penetentiary residence
Lock em up first, then ask questions
Omniscient presence, my CHARM is the weapon
with cameras mics and satellites that leave privacy breathless
You don't even know the chemicals you've ingested
Urine tested -- BEAT INNOCENT MAN 'TIL HE CONFESSES

   "Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?"
   "Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?"
[El-P]  I'm America!  I'm America!  I'm America!  Mr. Len, get busy on em!

{*DJ Mr. Len the Space Ghost cuts up "God damn!!"*}

[El-Producto]
I'm America arrogant!!  Terminus verbal curfew murders
You either purchase my products or you're worthless, that's my service!
Don't look into the oculars of a daylight saver
Eraser, city-headed momument defacer comprising of
patriot droids, sent into the void with lead linings
Employed by the bureaucrats of automatic twisted rhyme timing
You're guaranteed nothing but my fat little finger
that lingers one inch off of the big button -- LET'S START THIS!
I'm Saran gas, hide in your apartments
I'm stealth like a robot hidden in the fat a**hole of Cartman
And give a crippling f*** like sand sharkskin condom
to your apparent vaginal problem - the hottest shit on Soundbombing
I'm American til infinite justice measure to Pesticide Cemetary
Invite you to cross the border then SHIT on your divinities
What language is that?  I'm angusih in fact, tangle with a
star-spangled standard issue gat for crowd management
Talk loud and get enshrouded in a hot cloud of hara**ment
by the crowd force of my mental pedestrian checker,
that smashes subordinate skulls and update the file in your dental records
You tried to get elected but the crowd is my paid hecklers (BOO! BOO!)
You just stepped into the spectrum of paranoid word rainbows
Thinkin you sick with a sihlouette, burn transit cop out his plain clothes
I'm America!!  This is where the pain grows like poppies
in a Field of Dreams I paid for, I'll burn it down if operated sloppily
COPY?  My economic sanction rhyme style got your syllables
scraping for rice and riding in a pre-1960 jalopy
My favorite flavour of gas is mustard
I'm f***in a blind hermaphrodite icon and convincin you that it's justice!

   "Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?  Who's America?"
{*DJ Mr. Len the Space Ghost cuts up "God damn!!"*}

[El-Producto]
Treason will not be tolerated!
You have been enlisted.. into a lifestyle that you may not change!
Understand!  You can't be happy.. and smile.. for the cameras!
Motherf***ER!

This track seriously has to go down in history, El-P is a genius. If you've never heard it, get a copy now!
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Z-DIGITAL on December 10, 2008, 11:58:26 AM
JOE BUDDEN ft JAY-Z PUMP IT UP (remix)
>>>>THE 50cent NAS diss<<<<

hey nobody dumpin on hove
you aint in sanitation or sanitarium
what are you crazy jay-z'll bury em
i'll get you drug out the club they have to carry em
your head bug out i'll raid niggas scared of em
worry im not mike jordan
of the mic recordin
hovi baby you kobe, maybe tracy mcgrady
matter fact you harold miner, jr rider
washed up on marijuana
even worse you a pervis ellis
you worthless fella
you aint no athlete you shawn bradley
i aint talkin to nobody in particular
my flow just vehicular homicide whem im kicken em
yes, anybody in my path
is a car crash waitin to happen
nigga what?
i got my foot on the door
on the post of this rap game and i aint lettin up
yea whos the nicest life of lifeless mic devices
and i dont write this i just mic this
i will it to happen
one take hove im real in this rappin
my new name is just the facts
while the rest of yall just adjust the facts
put words together, just to match
i say what i feel yall adjust to that
i do the opposite of yall so i just attract
the realer audience usually unjustly black
know my flow and the shit they go just match
like the sound of my voice and a choice just track
i just tackle the something the flack of the public
nothin, i know real niggas happen to love it
if you dont like it or look in the mirror
most likely you aint livin so you dont get it
you aint did it so you can envision it
the picture im paintin aint vivid
the language im spittin is so foreign to ya
she was starvin a dude to ya
growin up hard in a little apartment illude to ya
im just talkin to ya

[Joe Budden]
gimme that beat fool
its a full time jack move
fine jay web said take it back dude
its hot
minute or to we play ball now
listen im just havin some fun
no

part in the future
sing the track now
spend a good week hova
you can bring it back now
all these rappers is cookin crack now
took the realness out the game its time to put it back in
the fans finally got it understood they just gappin
while joeys in the hood like madden
whoa
success is wrapped up
checks just rack up
everybodys a killer but the deaths dont add up
everybodys a hustler but the money aint comin in
yall is it just my math sucks? nah
time im a super stuck cheat they wealth
everybodys so scurred to just be they self
and the base and your boys get found like the cool
so we could sound like loon or pound like boom
dont end up a dead man for the cheddar
the way to play is joey in *Def Jam Vendetta* for real
on your pro two blues and dont be shocked
open the booth door we be like old school move it
aint goin to be a tray fee jay-z they be murdered
joey the future im more like dirt
anybody buyin respect me
try and wet me
yall dudes will never make it
your a Tyus Edney
im a standout like Yao Ming
im whats sparkin now
like fallback Shaq
im startin now
boys poppin it toys poppin spit
im not from round these parts im Stojakovic
let me hear your man say im the Jordan of rappin
he's gettin fatigued girlie his scorin is lackin
legacy is gettin ruined and you dont want that
so pretty much learn from him
dont come back
and rap is gettin wag top
g's are steppin
cause you are not that hot
dont believe the yes men
it aint about whos better than uh
its so evident
they hard to be real with no evidence
and i aint comin at jay
cuz hes the greatest dreamer
but he already laid the way
im just layin my seed in
not the same way i was
dude im done drivin now
im in your 745 plus 2
dont have your label call mine
no extracurricular
rappers is all girls who is extraparticular
seen many men with the jade
next time you listen to many men ill make sure you relate
only jay coulda came
just blazed it like me
everybody else chills
just glazed kid agree
packin a mackin in the back of an acura no
flappin the gat we be rappin the caddy but naw
what you want punk
double clip pump
ride by slump forth cocked playa on top
hater warm rock with his teeth toes wrapped
with the brand new savior of east coast rap
dont worry yo i'll bring the east coast back
no parties this aint a movie but meet joe black
tryin to relate to it i just speak those facts
if you was in the front now your seat goes back
what the deallin
like new york been soft since bin laden came thru and crushed the buildings
kinda restore the feelin this is to be continued
im just speakin through ya
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: oints on December 10, 2008, 12:03:53 PM
Artist: Jedi Mind Tricks f/ Bahamadia, Esoteric, Virtuoso
Album:  Violent By Design
Song:   Exertions (Remix)
 
Ikon the Hologram a.k.a Vinnie Paz

You get split in f***ing half
The Ikon the Hologram wrath
But I am the center inside the placenta of math
You clash with cyanide gas and die fast
Rythmical equivalent of solids, liquids and gas
We smash your science, with the power of Lord Titus
But I am the virus inside of the iris of Cyrus
Upon papyrus
I kill snipers and body vipers
And strangle you with the organs of rioters who try to fight us
Call me your highness
And sip the blood from the phoenix
Who's guilty like the Jews in the crucifixion of Jesus
Murder the heathens
And perish in a pit of cobras
Word is bond, my rhymes form into a swarm of locusts
Provoke us
And face the Zodiac killers
Five Samurai, do or die, fire spitters
Heavy hitters, from the lands of Sudan
Killadel Shambala Ikon the Hologram
What?


Vinnie pazzianza killer from Nam....felt this verse too dun...the whole track was nice  :)
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Z-DIGITAL on December 10, 2008, 12:09:36 PM
Artist: Jedi Mind Tricks
Album:  Violent By Design
Song:   Heavenly Divine
Typed by: Dragon9918@aol.com

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Jedi Mind
Heavenly Divine
Steadily shine
Ikon the f***ing Hologram
Yo, yo, yo, yo

[Ikon the Hologram]
Another sacrificial lamb
That died at the hands of Hologram
Sent him into the dungeon and bludgeoned his f***in' clan
Holy land
Who spit the live shit
The do or die, Illadelph Jedi Mind shit
The hot shit
Live raps crack your jaw
Like who's the avenger and who's at the center of war
I left a scar
So your crabs would understand
Mental will dent you and send you to a holy land
Lord know a man
Sharp blades slash your vitals
Recitals will fight you and entice you to burn Bibles
Homicidal
Hologram burn churches
Murders by stickin' a crucifix through your cervix
Divine purpose, for the Remi that's in my thermos
Wait and see we'll stick you with needles that's hypodermic
You heard the verdict
I'm with Allah 'cause he chose me
Broke into the Vatican, strangled the Pope with his rosary
What, what, what

[Chorus repeat 4x]
Jedi Mind
Heavenly Divine
Steadily shine in '99
What, what

[Just Allah]
MC's face terror wherever my sound's audible
Banned from third world portals, battle mortals, and slaughter you
Seen inside the places of beyond
The dwellings of the Omn
Existing in Islamic pantheon
Flows got the breeze on my clothes got the scent of trees
I lay back and blow sax like Kenny G
Power blast wacking my path devour fast
I leave you with the grain of sand in life's hourgla**
Devise your spell
Make demons rise out of hell
Grab you by your lapels and rob you of your outer shell
You feel the ill dire who sire in hellfire
I launch writers
Put your drawn on gong's wire
Jedi swordsman give rappers a foul fortune
Science to contortion your body into a coffin
Insane damage is done, you f***in' with the army
We beat skulls in the shape of a wet bag of laundry
What, yeah, yeah

Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: WORDSMITH on December 10, 2008, 01:08:57 PM
Artist: Jedi Mind Tricks
Album:  Violent By Design
Song:   Heavenly Divine
Typed by: Dragon9918@aol.com

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Jedi Mind
Heavenly Divine
Steadily shine
Ikon the f***ing Hologram
Yo, yo, yo, yo

[Ikon the Hologram]
Another sacrificial lamb
That died at the hands of Hologram
Sent him into the dungeon and bludgeoned his f***in' clan
Holy land
Who spit the live shit
The do or die, Illadelph Jedi Mind shit
The hot shit
Live raps crack your jaw
Like who's the avenger and who's at the center of war
I left a scar
So your crabs would understand
Mental will dent you and send you to a holy land
Lord know a man
Sharp blades slash your vitals
Recitals will fight you and entice you to burn Bibles
Homicidal
Hologram burn churches
Murders by stickin' a crucifix through your cervix
Divine purpose, for the Remi that's in my thermos
Wait and see we'll stick you with needles that's hypodermic
You heard the verdict
I'm with Allah 'cause he chose me
Broke into the Vatican, strangled the Pope with his rosary
What, what, what

[Chorus repeat 4x]
Jedi Mind
Heavenly Divine
Steadily shine in '99
What, what

[Just Allah]
MC's face terror wherever my sound's audible
Banned from third world portals, battle mortals, and slaughter you
Seen inside the places of beyond
The dwellings of the Omn
Existing in Islamic pantheon
Flows got the breeze on my clothes got the scent of trees
I lay back and blow sax like Kenny G
Power blast wacking my path devour fast
I leave you with the grain of sand in life's hourgla**
Devise your spell
Make demons rise out of hell
Grab you by your lapels and rob you of your outer shell
You feel the ill dire who sire in hellfire
I launch writers
Put your drawn on gong's wire
Jedi swordsman give rappers a foul fortune
Science to contortion your body into a coffin
Insane damage is done, you f***in' with the army
We beat skulls in the shape of a wet bag of laundry
What, yeah, yeah



That Jus' Alah verse maaaan!...
Title: Re: Lyra**ist Lounge
Post by: Z-DIGITAL on December 10, 2008, 03:34:47 PM
Artist: The Genius (Killah Priest on vocals)
Album:  Liquid Swords
Song:   B.I.B.L.E. (Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth)
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash
 
The Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth (3X)
 
Chorus: repeat 2X
 
Life is a test many quest the universe
And through my research, I felt the joy and the hurt
The first shall be last and the last shall be first
The basic instructions before leaving earth
 
Verse One:
 
Knowledge this wisdom, this goes back when I was twelve
I loved doing right but I was trapped in hell
Had mad ideas, sad eyes and tears
Years of fears, but yo my foes couldn't bear
I searched for the truth since my youth
And went to church since birth, but it wasn't worth the loot
that I was paying, plus the praying
I didn't like staying cuz of busy-bodies and dizzy hotties
That the preacher had souped up with lies
Had me cooped up lookin at loot, butt, and thighs
Durin the service, he swallowed up the poor
And after they heard this, they wallowed on the floor
But I ignored, and explored my history that was untold
And watched mysteries unfold
And dropped a jewel like Solomon, but never followed men
cause if you do your brain is more hollow than
Space oblivia, or the abyss
With no trace of trivia, left with the hiss
Does it pay to be deaf, dumb and blind?
From a slave we was kept from the mind
And from the caves he crept from behind
And what he gave, was the sect of the swine
When the bible, it condemned the pig
I don't mean to pull your hems or flip your wigs
But we used to wear a turban, but now we're in the urban
No more wearing beanies and dress like a genie
No hocus pocus cause I focus on the facts
And put it on the tracks and brought it through the wax
I speak on Jacob, it might take up some time
And too much knowledge, it might break up the ryhme
I did it anyway just to wake up the mind
of those who kiss stones or prays on the carpet
Those who sit home, or sell books by the market
Need to chill and get their mind revived
For years religion did nothing but divide
The basic instructions before leaving earth
 
Chorus

Verse Two:
 
I strolled through the books of Job to unfold
And open bibles, instead of hoping on revivals
Calling on His name and screaming hallelujah
when he hardly knew ya, that's how the devil's fooled ya
See look into my eyes brethren, that's the lies of a Reverend
Why should you die to go to heaven?
The Earth is already in space, the bible I embrace
A difficult task I had to take
I studied till my eyes was swollen, and only arose when
I found out that we were the chosen
I deal with the truth, and build with the youth
And teach my son as he kneels on the stoop
Son, life is a pool of sin, corrupted wth foolish men
and women with wicked minds, who build picket signs
to legalize abortion, the evil eye distortion
I quiz Son with my wisdom
Before I converted, I was perverted, and knowledge was a**erted
The study of wisdom, I perferred it
The understanding, it gave me mental freedom
I even learnt Caucasians were really the Tribe of Edam
The white image, of Christ, is really Cesare Borgia
and uhh, the second son of Pope Alexander
The Sixth of Rome, and once the picture was shown
That's how the devils tricked my dome
I prophesized to save a man, but no one gave a damn
for my nation - the seed of Abraham
Blessed with the tongue of Hebrew
Now we're strung on needles, and some are plungin evils
So study and be wise in these days of darkness
Peace to my nephew Marcus
 
The basic instructions before leaving earth
 
Chorus: repeat to fade