[{"id":30435159,"name":"Da Jawn","trackName":"Da Jawn","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Do This Well","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Do This Well\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":24533015,"name":"Da Jawn","trackName":"Da Jawn","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Kollage","duration":319.0266669,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Kollage\n  duration_ms: 319027\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":26055366,"name":"Da Jawn","trackName":"Da Jawn","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Kollage (Europe)","duration":319.0266669,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Kollage (Europe)\n  duration_ms: 319027\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":22892,"name":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","trackName":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","artistName":"The Roots","albumName":"Do This Well: Remixes & Rarities [Disc 2]","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\nWhen I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\nLyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\nNow, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\nWell, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\nI stand sharp, it started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\nI gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nApply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\nLike silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\nFor my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\nMy Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons I will just strangle just like a python\nYou lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\nM-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\nI spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\nCome up to the surface, then once you get submerged\nTo go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\nHere's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n[?], that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, [?]\nMy lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\nIn all the borders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (Bahamadia)\n  artist: The Roots\n  album: 'Do This Well: Remixes & Rarities [Disc 2]'\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\n  When I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\n  Lyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\n  Now, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Sensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\n  Well, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\n  I stand sharp, it started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\n  I gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Sugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Apply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\n  Like silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\n  For my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\n  My Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons I will just strangle just like a python\n  You lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\n  M-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\n  I spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\n  Come up to the surface, then once you get submerged\n  To go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\n  Here's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  [?], that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, [?]\n  My lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\n  In all the borders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n"},{"id":31663109,"name":"Da Jawn {Bahamadia}","trackName":"Da Jawn {Bahamadia}","artistName":"The Roots","albumName":"Do This Well Disc 2","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\nWhen I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\nLyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\nNow, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\nWell, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\nI stand sharp, it started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\nI gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nApply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\nLike silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\nFor my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\nMy Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons I will just strangle just like a python\nYou lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\nM-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\nI spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\nCome up to the surface, then once you get submerged\nTo go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\nHere's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n[?], that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, [?]\nMy lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\nIn all the borders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn {Bahamadia}\n  artist: The Roots\n  album: Do This Well Disc 2\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\n  When I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\n  Lyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\n  Now, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Sensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\n  Well, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\n  I stand sharp, it started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\n  I gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Sugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Apply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\n  Like silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\n  For my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\n  My Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons I will just strangle just like a python\n  You lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\n  M-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\n  I spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\n  Come up to the surface, then once you get submerged\n  To go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\n  Here's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  [?], that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, [?]\n  My lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\n  In all the borders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n"},{"id":23891472,"name":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","trackName":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","artistName":"The Roots","albumName":"Organamix Roots Rare and Remixed Vinyl","duration":315.506939,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\nWhen I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\nLyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\nNow, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\nWell, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\nI stand sharp, it started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\nI gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nApply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\nLike silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\nFor my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\nMy Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons I will just strangle just like a python\nYou lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\nM-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\nI spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\nCome up to the surface, then once you get submerged\nTo go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\nHere's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n[?], that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, [?]\nMy lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\nIn all the borders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (Bahamadia)\n  artist: The Roots\n  album: Organamix Roots Rare and Remixed Vinyl\n  duration_ms: 315507\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\n  When I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\n  Lyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\n  Now, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Sensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\n  Well, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\n  I stand sharp, it started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\n  I gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Sugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Apply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\n  Like silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\n  For my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\n  My Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons I will just strangle just like a python\n  You lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\n  M-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\n  I spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\n  Come up to the surface, then once you get submerged\n  To go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\n  Here's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  [?], that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, [?]\n  My lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\n  In all the borders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n"},{"id":29176481,"name":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","trackName":"Da Jawn (Bahamadia)","artistName":"The Roots","albumName":"Do This Well CD 2","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\nWhen I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\nLyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\nNow, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\nWell, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\nI stand sharp, it started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\nI gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nApply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\nLike silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\nFor my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\nMy Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons I will just strangle just like a python\nYou lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\nM-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\nI spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\nCome up to the surface, then once you get submerged\nTo go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\nHere's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n[?], that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, [?]\nMy lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\nIn all the borders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (Bahamadia)\n  artist: The Roots\n  album: Do This Well CD 2\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\n  When I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\n  Lyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\n  Now, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Sensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\n  Well, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\n  I stand sharp, it started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\n  I gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Sugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Apply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\n  Like silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\n  For my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\n  My Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons I will just strangle just like a python\n  You lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\n  M-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\n  I spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\n  Come up to the surface, then once you get submerged\n  To go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\n  Here's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  [?], that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, [?]\n  My lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\n  In all the borders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n"},{"id":32796016,"name":"Da Jawn","trackName":"Da Jawn","artistName":"Bahamadia feat. Nou","albumName":"Kollage","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn\n  artist: Bahamadia feat. Nou\n  album: Kollage\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":22891,"name":"Da Jawn","trackName":"Da Jawn","artistName":"Bahamadia feat. The Roots","albumName":"Kollage","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\nWhen I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\nLyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\nNow, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\nWell, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\nI stand sharp, it started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\nI gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nApply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\nLike silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\nFor my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\nMy Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons I will just strangle just like a python\nYou lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\nM-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\nI spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\nCome up to the surface, then once you get submerged\nTo go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\nHere's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n[?], that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, [?]\nMy lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\nIn all the borders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's Da Jawn!\n\nIt's Da Jawn!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn\n  artist: Bahamadia feat. The Roots\n  album: Kollage\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, it go on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of ya spine\n  When I'm takin' ya mind to the next level\n  Lyrically, my specimen is hard for you to see or examine\n  Now, dig it, I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Sensimilla in my PA state stimulates the M-I-C ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust this cerebral attack, Bahamadia, where ya at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan where the brothers scam and connive\n  Well, it's the contraband clan, I'm hailin' from the brotherly land\n  I stand sharp, it started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition, whut?! Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable and frustratable\n  I gotta get mine and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan and c'mon, uh!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Sugar be gettin' horror with the foreign for-a-mat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Apply it to my records like a CPR-uh method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a meal suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines, darin' they genes to come off\n  Like silk screen or tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch in coloration\n  For my creation's captivatin' on sea-level\n  My Roots stays realer than E levels, it's Da Jawn\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Costra Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, I ties my holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke ya recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne won as a king from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons I will just strangle just like a python\n  You lust this shit, I leave ya desolate like Saigon\n  M-to-the-Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she needs to Douche a Massengill\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the Mass Appeal\n  I spill words, when ill blurs still slurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snooka in the merge\n  Come up to the surface, then once you get submerged\n  To go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones and spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I'd punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam was seal of the prophets\n  Here's a Bobbitt but not Lorena, you feel the pain, still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  [?], that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, [?]\n  My lyric quota will cause disorder across the water\n  In all the borders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I Remain Calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n\n  It's Da Jawn!\n"},{"id":30545198,"name":"Da Jawn (feat. Black Thought)","trackName":"Da Jawn (feat. Black Thought)","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Featuring Black Thought","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (feat. Black Thought)\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Featuring Black Thought\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":29672670,"name":"Da Jawn (feat. The Roots)","trackName":"Da Jawn (feat. The Roots)","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Kollage","duration":319.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (feat. The Roots)\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Kollage\n  duration_ms: 319000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"},{"id":24497047,"name":"Da Jawn (ft The Roots)","trackName":"Da Jawn (ft The Roots)","artistName":"Bahamadia","albumName":"Kollage","duration":319.059592,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Amir\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\nShofe el yod\nWah shofe entela\nWah el labi\nWah el lab entela\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\nThe beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\nWhen I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\nMy specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\nI contaminate the 2-inch tape\nSince a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\nThe M.I.C. ministry\nEnemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\nI'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\nSo bust the cerebral attack\nBahamadia, where you at?\nWhen we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\nThe land of the master plan\nWhere the brothers scam and connive\nIt's the contraband clan\nI'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\nIt started or began at the park\nExpanded years and grew into careers\nCompetition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\nIt's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\nI got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\nSo, put me on like Donna Karan\nAnd c'mon, uhh\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nWhen I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\nSuga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\nThe competition better be easin' back\nLike recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\nDialect perfected with 2 lines connected\nPump life into my records like a CPR method\nFunk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\nInjected like morphine in each lines\nDNA genes that come off like silk screen\nOn tank-tops, I rank top-notch\nAnd make black vinyl turn butterscotch\nIn coloration for my creations\nCaptivating on C-level\nMy riffs stays realer than E levels\nIt's the truth\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nYour style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\nIn between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\nMost of y'all niggas with your legislation\nRevoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\nFuck other opinions in my dominion\nThe throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\nIcons, I will just strangle just like a python\nYou're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\nM to the Ill, I show the skill\nIf your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\nA rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\nAnd like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\nI spill words when ill blurs still splurge\nWhat's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\nCome up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\nIt go below because my flow got the urge\nNow, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\nHowever you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\nIn duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\nIf your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\nI drop topics all on your optics\nMuhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\nYeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\nFrom 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\nWith Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\nStyles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\nMy lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\nAnd all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\nSince The Roots put me on, I remain calm\nBut stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nBahamadia\n\nIt's The Jawn!\n\nGang Starr","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Da Jawn (ft The Roots)\n  artist: Bahamadia\n  album: Kollage\n  duration_ms: 319060\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Amir\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n  Shofe el yod\n  Wah shofe entela\n  Wah el labi\n  Wah el lab entela\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Yo, it goes on and on, on and on and on\n  The beat don't stop 'til the break of your spine\n  When I'm takin' your mind to the next level lyrically\n  My specimen is hard for you to see or examine, now dig it\n  I contaminate the 2-inch tape\n  Since a media M.I.P.H. state stimulate\n  The M.I.C. ministry\n  Enemies who enter my chemistry can't cope\n  I'm dope like crack, what I wrote broke ya back\n  So bust the cerebral attack\n  Bahamadia, where you at?\n  When we're comin' live from the area 2-1-5\n  The land of the master plan\n  Where the brothers scam and connive\n  It's the contraband clan\n  I'm hailin' from the brotherly land, I stand sharp\n  It started or began at the park\n  Expanded years and grew into careers\n  Competition what? Fuck 'em, I cut 'em like shears\n  It's the un-rehabilitatable, the frustratable\n  I got to get mine, and that's non-negotiatable\n  So, put me on like Donna Karan\n  And c'mon, uhh\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  When I present my raps on the tracks, kids be like, \"Who dat?\"\n  Suga be gettin' oral with the foreign coronat\n  The competition better be easin' back\n  Like recedin' hairlines on they pops when I drops\n  Dialect perfected with 2 lines connected\n  Pump life into my records like a CPR method\n  Funk provides my rhymes with a mouth suppressant\n  Injected like morphine in each lines\n  DNA genes that come off like silk screen\n  On tank-tops, I rank top-notch\n  And make black vinyl turn butterscotch\n  In coloration for my creations\n  Captivating on C-level\n  My riffs stays realer than E levels\n  It's the truth\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Your style is like that of the La Cosa Nostra\n  In between my pelvic and my belt, at times, a holster\n  Most of y'all niggas with your legislation\n  Revoke your recitation and continue with my recitation\n  Fuck other opinions in my dominion\n  The throne, when as a King from Illadelph, I'm not Virginian\n  Icons, I will just strangle just like a python\n  You're less than shit, I leave you desolate like Saigon\n  M to the Ill, I show the skill\n  If your girl cooch stinks, she need to douche her ass in jail\n  A rebel with the treble like my man Bobby Seale\n  And like the youngsters in Gang Starr, I got the mass appeal\n  I spill words when ill blurs still splurge\n  What's up to P.R. Star, Snuka and Emerge\n  Come up to the surface, then once it gets submerged\n  It go below because my flow got the urge\n  Now, we can talk with tones or spark with the guns\n  However you want it, Allah protects me when confronted\n  In duck season, with all these quacks that get hunted\n  If your ass was a field goal, well, then I punt it\n  I drop topics all on your optics\n  Muhammad Salallahu Alaihi Wasallam would seal up the prophets\n  Yeah, here's a Bobby, but not Lorene, you feel the pain still\n  From 68th Ave. to West Oak Lane feels\n  With Cosmic Kev and Ran, that's my man\n  Styles, I got 7, and Peedi and Bam Bam\n  My lyric quota, will cause disorder across the water\n  And all the boulders, even up in Minnesota\n  Since The Roots put me on, I remain calm\n  But stand strong, from 2-1-5\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Bahamadia\n\n  It's The Jawn!\n\n  Gang Starr\n"}]