[{"id":227858,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yo\n[00:01.15] My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62] Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01] Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42] And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99] Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55] You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44] I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91] So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28] I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06] So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38] I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05] I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58] And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15] Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46] Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55] Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15] In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28] N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54] Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44] I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15] Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53] Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23] For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48] I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95] And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45] Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17] With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62] Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32] Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91] Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34] Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46] Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52] (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17] Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72] I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33] Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98] I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15] In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24] Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37] Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08] And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38] My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20] Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03] Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07] The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21] I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15] Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02] Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57] Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75] I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28] And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63] For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19] Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96] Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26] But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48] Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97] My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69] 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01] So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20] I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32] On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79] Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26] I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82] I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13] Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30] In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91] And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80] I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24] >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92] And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57] I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23] Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33] Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61] So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94] And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88] Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28] And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48] No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05] I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14] Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71] Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49] True, true\n[04:06.95] And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22] I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52] Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54] What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08] Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04] The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88] And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94] You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14] And last but not least\n[04:25.19] I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99] My crew\n[04:29.05] Word up\n[04:29.74] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":9030393,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Danger","duration":298.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Danger\n  duration_ms: 298000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":30911148,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestyles Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yo\n[00:01.15] My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62] Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01] Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42] And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99] Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55] You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44] I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91] So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28] I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06] So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38] I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05] I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58] And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15] Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46] Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55] Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15] In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28] N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54] Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44] I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15] Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53] Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23] For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48] I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95] And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45] Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17] With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62] Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32] Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91] Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34] Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46] Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52] (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17] Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72] I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33] Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98] I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15] In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24] Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37] Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08] And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38] My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20] Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03] Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07] The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21] I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15] Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02] Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57] Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75] I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28] And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63] For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19] Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96] Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26] But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48] Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97] My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69] 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01] So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20] I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32] On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79] Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26] I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82] I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13] Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30] In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91] And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80] I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24] >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92] And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57] I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23] Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33] Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61] So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94] And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88] Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28] And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48] No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05] I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14] Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71] Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49] True, true\n[04:06.95] And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22] I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52] Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54] What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08] Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04] The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88] And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94] You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14] And last but not least\n[04:25.19] I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99] My crew\n[04:29.05] Word up\n[04:29.74] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestyles Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":23887328,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous","duration":301.061224,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yo\n[00:01.15] My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62] Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01] Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42] And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99] Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55] You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44] I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91] So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28] I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06] So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38] I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05] I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58] And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15] Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46] Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55] Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15] In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28] N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54] Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44] I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15] Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53] Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23] For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48] I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95] And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45] Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17] With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62] Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32] Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91] Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34] Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46] Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52] (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17] Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72] I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33] Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98] I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15] In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24] Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37] Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08] And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38] My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20] Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03] Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07] The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21] I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15] Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02] Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57] Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75] I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28] And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63] For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19] Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96] Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26] But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48] Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97] My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69] 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01] So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20] I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32] On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79] Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26] I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82] I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13] Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30] In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91] And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80] I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24] >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92] And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57] I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23] Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33] Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61] So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94] And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88] Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28] And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48] No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05] I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14] Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71] Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49] True, true\n[04:06.95] And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22] I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52] Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54] What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08] Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04] The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88] And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94] You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14] And last but not least\n[04:25.19] I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99] My crew\n[04:29.05] Word up\n[04:29.74] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 301061\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":9464904,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor and Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor and Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":33768392,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"The Danger Zone","duration":261.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yo\n[00:01.15] My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62] Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01] Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42] And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99] Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55] You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44] I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91] So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28] I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06] So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38] I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05] I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58] And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15] Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46] Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55] Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15] In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28] N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54] Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44] I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15] Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53] Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23] For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48] I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95] And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45] Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17] With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62] Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32] Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91] Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34] Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46] Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52] (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17] Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72] I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33] Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98] I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15] In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24] Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37] Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08] And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38] My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20] Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03] Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07] The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21] I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15] Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02] Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57] Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75] I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28] And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63] For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19] Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96] Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26] But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48] Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97] My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69] 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01] So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20] I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32] On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79] Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26] I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82] I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13] Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30] In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91] And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80] I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24] >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92] And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57] I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23] Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33] Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61] So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94] And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88] Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28] And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48] No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05] I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14] Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71] Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49] True, true\n[04:06.95] And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22] I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52] Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54] What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08] Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04] The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88] And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94] You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14] And last but not least\n[04:25.19] I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99] My crew\n[04:29.05] Word up\n[04:29.74] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: The Danger Zone\n  duration_ms: 261000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":25987207,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yo\n[00:01.15] My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62] Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01] Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42] And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99] Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55] You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44] I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91] So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28] I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06] So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38] I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05] I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58] And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15] Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46] Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55] Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15] In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28] N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54] Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44] I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15] Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53] Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23] For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48] I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95] And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45] Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17] With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62] Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32] Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91] Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34] Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46] Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52] (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17] Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72] I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33] Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98] I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15] In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24] Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37] Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08] And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38] My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20] Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03] Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07] The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21] I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15] Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02] Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57] Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75] I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28] And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63] For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19] Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96] Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26] But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48] Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97] My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69] 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01] So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20] I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32] On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79] Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26] I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82] I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13] Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30] In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91] And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80] I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24] >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92] And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57] I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23] Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33] Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61] So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94] And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88] Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28] And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48] No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05] I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14] Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71] Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49] True, true\n[04:06.95] And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22] I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52] Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54] What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08] Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04] The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88] And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94] You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14] And last but not least\n[04:25.19] I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99] My crew\n[04:29.05] Word up\n[04:29.74] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":38333116,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\nBig twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\nAnd i'ma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\nAnd fuck sally, I rather marry halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\nPower struck, terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMc's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\nRappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin poems\nThat I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\nThe best out crew, the m&m crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38]Yo\n[00:01.15]My crew is in the house\n[00:02.62]Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n[00:05.01]Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n[00:08.42]And i'ma set it like this\n[00:09.99]Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:12.27]You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.55]You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n[00:15.44]I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n[00:17.91]So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35]Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.30]Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.28]I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:28.06]So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.38]I'm from the alley, not the valley\n[00:32.05]I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n[00:33.58]And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n[00:35.42]I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.15]Don't hang with jive pals\n[00:38.46]Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n[00:39.91]Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.55]Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.15]In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.33]Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.28]N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n[00:52.54]Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19]This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.32]Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.44]I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n[01:02.48]Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n[01:05.15]Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.53]Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n[01:10.23]For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n[01:12.48]I'm on some murder stuff\n[01:13.95]And when I talk every word is ruff\n[01:15.45]Front on this and get beat bad\n[01:17.17]With big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.62]Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n[01:20.32]Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:21.91]Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n[01:25.34]Step to this and get sliced with ease\n[01:27.46]Ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.52](Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22]Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:31.93]He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n[01:35.11]Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:37.17]Peace to big l, straight from hell\n[01:38.72]I'm the fuck up outta here\n[01:40.33]Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.63]Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:44.98]I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.15]In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.39]Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.24]Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.49]Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.37]Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n[01:59.08]And cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.38]My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n[02:02.20]Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n[02:05.03]Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n[02:08.07]The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.36]I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.76]Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n[02:15.21]I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n[02:17.15]Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n[02:20.02]Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n[02:22.57]Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.31]You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.75]I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n[02:30.28]And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n[02:32.63]For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n[02:35.19]Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n[02:37.96]Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n[02:40.26]But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:43.01]There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.48]Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n[02:47.97]My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n[02:49.69]20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n[02:52.01]So make tracks, I break backs\n[02:53.20]I jack with def gats and black macs\n[02:55.32]On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n[02:57.79]Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n[03:00.26]I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n[03:02.82]I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.13]Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n[03:07.85]Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.30]In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n[03:12.91]And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n[03:15.24]And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.80]I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n[03:20.24]>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n[03:22.92]And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n[03:25.57]I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.61]Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.23]Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n[03:32.32]That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n[03:35.33]Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.61]So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n[03:39.94]And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n[03:42.88]Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n[03:45.30]And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.28]And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n[03:50.48]No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:53.05]I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n[03:55.34]And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.79]And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n[04:00.14]Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n[04:03.71]Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n[04:05.49]True, true\n[04:06.95]And before I get up outta here\n[04:08.22]I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n[04:10.52]Brothers that was there since the beginning\n[04:12.54]What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n[04:15.08]Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n[04:18.04]The best out crew, the m&m crew\n[04:20.88]And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n[04:22.94]You know what I'm sayin?\n[04:24.14]And last but not least\n[04:25.19]I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n[04:27.99]My crew\n[04:29.05]Word up\n[04:29.74]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 1150\n- text: My crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 1150\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 5010\n- text: Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  start_ms: 5010\n  end_ms: 8420\n- text: And i'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8420\n  end_ms: 9990\n- text: Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9990\n  end_ms: 12270\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 12270\n  end_ms: 13550\n- text: You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13550\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17910\n- text: So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17910\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23300\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23300\n  end_ms: 25280\n- text: I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25280\n  end_ms: 28060\n- text: So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 28060\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 32050\n- text: I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  start_ms: 32050\n  end_ms: 33580\n- text: And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  start_ms: 33580\n  end_ms: 35420\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35420\n  end_ms: 37150\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals\n  start_ms: 37150\n  end_ms: 38460\n- text: Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  start_ms: 38460\n  end_ms: 39910\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 39910\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 45150\n- text: In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45150\n  end_ms: 48330\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48330\n  end_ms: 50280\n- text: N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  start_ms: 50280\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58320\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58320\n  end_ms: 60440\n- text: I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60440\n  end_ms: 62480\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62480\n  end_ms: 65150\n- text: Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65150\n  end_ms: 67530\n- text: Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67530\n  end_ms: 70230\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  start_ms: 70230\n  end_ms: 72480\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff\n  start_ms: 72480\n  end_ms: 73950\n- text: And when I talk every word is ruff\n  start_ms: 73950\n  end_ms: 75450\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad\n  start_ms: 75450\n  end_ms: 77170\n- text: With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 77170\n  end_ms: 78620\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  start_ms: 78620\n  end_ms: 80320\n- text: Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80320\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 85340\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  start_ms: 85340\n  end_ms: 87460\n- text: Ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 87460\n  end_ms: 88520\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88520\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 91930\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  start_ms: 91930\n  end_ms: 95110\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95110\n  end_ms: 97170\n- text: Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  start_ms: 97170\n  end_ms: 98720\n- text: I'm the fuck up outta here\n  start_ms: 98720\n  end_ms: 100330\n- text: Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 100330\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 104980\n- text: I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 104980\n  end_ms: 107150\n- text: In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107150\n  end_ms: 110390\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110390\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 115490\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115490\n  end_ms: 117370\n- text: Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  start_ms: 117370\n  end_ms: 119080\n- text: And cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 119080\n  end_ms: 120380\n- text: My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  start_ms: 120380\n  end_ms: 122200\n- text: Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122200\n  end_ms: 125030\n- text: Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  start_ms: 125030\n  end_ms: 128070\n- text: The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 128070\n  end_ms: 130360\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130360\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 137150\n- text: Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  start_ms: 137150\n  end_ms: 140020\n- text: Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  start_ms: 140020\n  end_ms: 142570\n- text: Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 142570\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 147750\n- text: I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147750\n  end_ms: 150280\n- text: And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  start_ms: 150280\n  end_ms: 152630\n- text: For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n  start_ms: 152630\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157960\n- text: Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  start_ms: 157960\n  end_ms: 160260\n- text: But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160260\n  end_ms: 163010\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 163010\n  end_ms: 165480\n- text: Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165480\n  end_ms: 167970\n- text: My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  start_ms: 167970\n  end_ms: 169690\n- text: 20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  start_ms: 169690\n  end_ms: 172010\n- text: So make tracks, I break backs\n  start_ms: 172010\n  end_ms: 173200\n- text: I jack with def gats and black macs\n  start_ms: 173200\n  end_ms: 175320\n- text: On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  start_ms: 175320\n  end_ms: 177790\n- text: Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  start_ms: 177790\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182820\n- text: I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182820\n  end_ms: 185130\n- text: Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  start_ms: 185130\n  end_ms: 187850\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187850\n  end_ms: 190300\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  start_ms: 190300\n  end_ms: 192910\n- text: And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  start_ms: 192910\n  end_ms: 195240\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195240\n  end_ms: 197800\n- text: I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197800\n  end_ms: 200240\n- text: '>from seein heads shake so many times the lead make'\n  start_ms: 200240\n  end_ms: 202920\n- text: And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202920\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 207610\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207610\n  end_ms: 210230\n- text: Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  start_ms: 210230\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 215330\n- text: Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215330\n  end_ms: 217610\n- text: So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  start_ms: 217610\n  end_ms: 219940\n- text: And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  start_ms: 219940\n  end_ms: 222880\n- text: Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  start_ms: 222880\n  end_ms: 225300\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225300\n  end_ms: 227280\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227280\n  end_ms: 230480\n- text: No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230480\n  end_ms: 233050\n- text: I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  start_ms: 233050\n  end_ms: 235340\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235340\n  end_ms: 237790\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  start_ms: 237790\n  end_ms: 240140\n- text: Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  start_ms: 240140\n  end_ms: 243710\n- text: Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  start_ms: 243710\n  end_ms: 245490\n- text: True, true\n  start_ms: 245490\n  end_ms: 246950\n- text: And before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 246950\n  end_ms: 248220\n- text: I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  start_ms: 248220\n  end_ms: 250520\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  start_ms: 250520\n  end_ms: 252540\n- text: What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  start_ms: 252540\n  end_ms: 255080\n- text: Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  start_ms: 255080\n  end_ms: 258040\n- text: The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  start_ms: 258040\n  end_ms: 260880\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  start_ms: 260880\n  end_ms: 262940\n- text: You know what I'm sayin?\n  start_ms: 262940\n  end_ms: 264140\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 264140\n  end_ms: 265190\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  start_ms: 265190\n  end_ms: 267990\n- text: My crew\n  start_ms: 267990\n  end_ms: 269050\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 269050\n  end_ms: 269740\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269740\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, herb mcgruff, buddah bless\n  Big twan, killa kam, trooper j, and mike boogie\n  And i'ma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my smith-wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap new york rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than cali, wicked like harry\n  And fuck sally, I rather marry halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N.o. rated, rappers you no-made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the mc in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that lord prayer\n  Power struck, terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm herb mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  Mc's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm a? nomaticom? for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin, you come up missin like a cup scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But killa kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  >from seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And mike boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin poems\n  That I be knockin domes, poppin bones and sendin niggas hoppin home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no. 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to d-whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the b.b.o. crew\n  The best out crew, the m&m crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street nfl crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"},{"id":17832428,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (Paused)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (Paused)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":298.84,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (Paused)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 298840\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":32078594,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (demo version)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (demo version)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"The Tommy Gibbs Collection","duration":263.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb Mcgruff, Buddah bless\nBig twan, Killa Kam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith Wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, 'cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\nAnd fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles, don't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN O rated, rappers you no made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb Mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMC's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a Afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?)\nYo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last 'bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from Hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a nomaticom for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read Braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin', you come up missin' like a cup scout\nRappers be funny like flesh, 'cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin' at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\nI'm havin' nail sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin' but lead\nBoom, bye, bye, dem find another batty boy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and\nSendin' niggas, hoppin' home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac 10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the B B O crew\nThe best out crew, the M and M crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin'? And last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street N F L crew\nMy crew, word up","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (demo version)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: The Tommy Gibbs Collection\n  duration_ms: 263000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb Mcgruff, Buddah bless\n  Big twan, Killa Kam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith Wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\n  And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles, don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N O rated, rappers you no made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb Mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  MC's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a Afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?)\n  Yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last 'bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from Hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a nomaticom for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read Braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin', you come up missin' like a cup scout\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, 'cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin' at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  I'm havin' nail sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin' but lead\n  Boom, bye, bye, dem find another batty boy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and\n  Sendin' niggas, hoppin' home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac 10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the B B O crew\n  The best out crew, the M and M crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin'? And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street N F L crew\n  My crew, word up\n"},{"id":10518677,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (demo version)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (demo version)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"The Danger Zone","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb Mcgruff, Buddah bless\nBig twan, Killa Kam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith Wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smoke, 'cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\nAnd fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles, don't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nN O rated, rappers you no made it\nTell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow up\nSour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb Mcgruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every word is ruff\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMC's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a Afghan cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?)\nYo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last 'bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to big l, straight from Hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad move I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a nomaticom for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\nYo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read Braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\nFor dissin', you come up missin' like a cup scout\nRappers be funny like flesh, 'cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin' at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn lennox ave ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\nI'm havin' nail sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin' but lead\nBoom, bye, bye, dem find another batty boy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and\nSendin' niggas, hoppin' home\nWord to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\nAnd niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac 10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D whiz and short man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\nPeace to mase murder and the B B O crew\nThe best out crew, the M and M crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin'? And last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th street N F L crew\nMy crew, word up","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (demo version)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: The Danger Zone\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb Mcgruff, Buddah bless\n  Big twan, Killa Kam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith Wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smoke, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\n  And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles, don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  N O rated, rappers you no made it\n  Tell the terra to rotate it, his raps are gold plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow up\n  Sour luck, niggas got and popped and swallow nuts\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb Mcgruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every word is ruff\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  MC's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a Afghan cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?)\n  Yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last 'bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to big l, straight from Hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad move I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a nomaticom for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read Braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rugged out\n  For dissin', you come up missin' like a cup scout\n  Rappers be funny like flesh, 'cause they section's 80 slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin' at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On lennox ave ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n  I'm havin' nail sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin' but lead\n  Boom, bye, bye, dem find another batty boy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallys than riots back in cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones and\n  Sendin' niggas, hoppin' home\n  Word to god, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cask' and crutches\n  And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my no 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn they muthafuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like santa clause with a mac 10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to big l, aiyo, 8 is enough\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D whiz and short man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to rockin' wheel from the hard pack crew\n  Peace to mase murder and the B B O crew\n  The best out crew, the M and M crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin'? And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th street N F L crew\n  My crew, word up\n"},{"id":9501980,"name":"8 Iz Enuff Feat VA","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff Feat VA","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor and Dangerous","duration":298.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff Feat VA\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor and Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 298000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":10914233,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L ft. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Cam'ron, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan & Trooper J.","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":298.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L ft. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Cam'ron, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan & Trooper J.\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 298000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":24967667,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L feat. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan & Trooper J","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.49] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.74] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.27] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.62] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.64] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.96] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.57] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.40] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.28] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.23] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.62] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.28] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.68] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.20] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.21] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.26] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.43] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.37] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.02] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.55] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.36] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.18] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.36] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.37] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.16] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.42] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.11] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.46] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.54] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.38] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.25] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.29] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.23] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.39] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.24] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.09] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.35] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.83] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.28] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.27] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.17] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.16] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.27] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.03] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.20] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.24] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.76] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.05] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.08] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.44] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.23] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.45] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.91] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.19] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.27] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.53] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.83] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.60] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.11] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.44] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.38] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.45] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.53] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.28] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.69] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.60] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.53] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.96] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.26] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.50] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.98] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.08] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.03] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.63] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.74] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.35] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.39] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.78] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.13] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.76] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.30] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.57] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.28] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.31] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.27] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.60] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.25] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.24] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.35] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.18] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.18] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.04] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.28] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.09] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.73] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.33] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.49] And last but not least\n[04:24.87] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.03] Word up!\n[04:29.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L feat. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan & Trooper J\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 490\n  end_ms: 2740\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2740\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8270\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8270\n  end_ms: 9620\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9620\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13640\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13640\n  end_ms: 14960\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14960\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20400\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20400\n  end_ms: 23280\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23280\n  end_ms: 25230\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25230\n  end_ms: 27620\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27620\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 35200\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35200\n  end_ms: 37210\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37210\n  end_ms: 40260\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40260\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 45370\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45370\n  end_ms: 48020\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48020\n  end_ms: 50550\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50550\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58180\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58180\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 65160\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65160\n  end_ms: 67420\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67420\n  end_ms: 70110\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70110\n  end_ms: 72460\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72460\n  end_ms: 75540\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75540\n  end_ms: 78380\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78380\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 82290\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82290\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 90240\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90240\n  end_ms: 92090\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92090\n  end_ms: 95350\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95350\n  end_ms: 96830\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96830\n  end_ms: 99280\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99280\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112160\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112160\n  end_ms: 115270\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115270\n  end_ms: 117030\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117030\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122240\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122240\n  end_ms: 124760\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124760\n  end_ms: 127050\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127050\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 132440\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132440\n  end_ms: 135230\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135230\n  end_ms: 137450\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137450\n  end_ms: 139910\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139910\n  end_ms: 143190\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143190\n  end_ms: 145270\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145270\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 149830\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149830\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157600\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157600\n  end_ms: 160110\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160110\n  end_ms: 162440\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162440\n  end_ms: 165380\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165380\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172530\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172530\n  end_ms: 175280\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175280\n  end_ms: 176690\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176690\n  end_ms: 178600\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178600\n  end_ms: 179530\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179530\n  end_ms: 182960\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182960\n  end_ms: 185260\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185260\n  end_ms: 187500\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187500\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192980\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192980\n  end_ms: 195080\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195080\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200030\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200030\n  end_ms: 202630\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202630\n  end_ms: 204740\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204740\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210350\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210350\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 213780\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213780\n  end_ms: 215130\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215130\n  end_ms: 217760\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217760\n  end_ms: 220300\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220300\n  end_ms: 222570\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222570\n  end_ms: 225280\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225280\n  end_ms: 227310\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227310\n  end_ms: 230270\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230270\n  end_ms: 232600\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232600\n  end_ms: 235250\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235250\n  end_ms: 237240\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237240\n  end_ms: 240350\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240350\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245180\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245180\n  end_ms: 248040\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248040\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252280\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252280\n  end_ms: 255090\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255090\n  end_ms: 257730\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257730\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 263490\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263490\n  end_ms: 264870\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264870\n  end_ms: 269030\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269030\n  end_ms: 269770\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269770\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":40190863,"name":"8 Iz Enuff","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff","artistName":"Big L feat. Twan, Buddah Bless, Killa Kam, Herb McGruff, Mike Boogie, Tierra & Trooper J","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous (20th Anniversary Edition)","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.43] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.72] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.17] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.61] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.91] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.62] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.50] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.40] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.26] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.26] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.64] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.21] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.67] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.21] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.22] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.31] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.05] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.33] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.16] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.15] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.39] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.32] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.16] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.15] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.47] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.50] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.37] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.23] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.20] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.27] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.00] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.35] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.81] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.27] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.41] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.28] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.19] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.17] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.20] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.03] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.21] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.21] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.78] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.00] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.05] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.45] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.26] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.46] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.12] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.22] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.53] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.88] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.60] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.62] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.13] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.48] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.37] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.45] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.79] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.53] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.27] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.66] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.65] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.53] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.95] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.24] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.50] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.16] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.97] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.01] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.68] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.05] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.61] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.73] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.71] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.37] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.39] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.79] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.19] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.72] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.33] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.25] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.34] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.20] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.28] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.35] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.12] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.11] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.02] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.59] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.27] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.05] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.74] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.41] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.45] And last but not least\n[04:24.80] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.09] Word up!\n[04:58.86] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff\n  artist: Big L feat. Twan, Buddah Bless, Killa Kam, Herb McGruff, Mike Boogie, Tierra & Trooper J\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous (20th Anniversary Edition)\n  duration_ms: 298933\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 430\n  end_ms: 2720\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2720\n  end_ms: 5170\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5170\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9610\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9610\n  end_ms: 11910\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11910\n  end_ms: 13620\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13620\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17500\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17500\n  end_ms: 20400\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20400\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 25260\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25260\n  end_ms: 27640\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27640\n  end_ms: 30210\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30210\n  end_ms: 32670\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32670\n  end_ms: 35210\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35210\n  end_ms: 37220\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37220\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45310\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45310\n  end_ms: 48050\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48050\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52330\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52330\n  end_ms: 55160\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55160\n  end_ms: 58150\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58150\n  end_ms: 60390\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60390\n  end_ms: 62320\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62320\n  end_ms: 65160\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65160\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70150\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70150\n  end_ms: 72470\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72470\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78370\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78370\n  end_ms: 80230\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80230\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 85270\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85270\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92000\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92000\n  end_ms: 95350\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95350\n  end_ms: 96810\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96810\n  end_ms: 99270\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99270\n  end_ms: 102410\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102410\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107280\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107280\n  end_ms: 110190\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110190\n  end_ms: 112170\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112170\n  end_ms: 115200\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115200\n  end_ms: 117030\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117030\n  end_ms: 120210\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120210\n  end_ms: 122210\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122210\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127000\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127000\n  end_ms: 130050\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130050\n  end_ms: 132450\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132450\n  end_ms: 135260\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135260\n  end_ms: 137460\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137460\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143120\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143120\n  end_ms: 145220\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145220\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 149880\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149880\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154600\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154600\n  end_ms: 157620\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157620\n  end_ms: 160130\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160130\n  end_ms: 162480\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162480\n  end_ms: 165370\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165370\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170790\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170790\n  end_ms: 172530\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172530\n  end_ms: 175270\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175270\n  end_ms: 176660\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176660\n  end_ms: 178650\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178650\n  end_ms: 179530\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179530\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185240\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185240\n  end_ms: 187500\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187500\n  end_ms: 190160\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190160\n  end_ms: 192970\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192970\n  end_ms: 195010\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195010\n  end_ms: 197680\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197680\n  end_ms: 200050\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200050\n  end_ms: 202610\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202610\n  end_ms: 204730\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204730\n  end_ms: 207710\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207710\n  end_ms: 210370\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210370\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 213790\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213790\n  end_ms: 215190\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215190\n  end_ms: 217720\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217720\n  end_ms: 220330\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220330\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225250\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225250\n  end_ms: 227340\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227340\n  end_ms: 230200\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230200\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237280\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237280\n  end_ms: 240350\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240350\n  end_ms: 243120\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243120\n  end_ms: 245110\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245110\n  end_ms: 248020\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248020\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 252270\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252270\n  end_ms: 255050\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255050\n  end_ms: 257740\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257740\n  end_ms: 260410\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260410\n  end_ms: 263450\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263450\n  end_ms: 264800\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264800\n  end_ms: 269090\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269090\n  end_ms: 298860\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 298860\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":33925460,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Cam’ron, McGruff, Terra, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Trooper J, Mike Boogie)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Cam’ron, McGruff, Terra, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Trooper J, Mike Boogie)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.49] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.74] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.27] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.62] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.64] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.96] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.57] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.40] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.28] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.23] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.62] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.28] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.68] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.20] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.21] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.26] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.43] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.37] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.02] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.55] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.36] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.18] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.36] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.37] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.16] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.42] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.11] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.46] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.54] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.38] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.25] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.29] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.23] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.39] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.24] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.09] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.35] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.83] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.28] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.27] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.17] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.16] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.27] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.03] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.20] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.24] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.76] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.05] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.08] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.44] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.23] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.45] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.91] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.19] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.27] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.53] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.83] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.60] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.11] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.44] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.38] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.45] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.53] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.28] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.69] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.60] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.53] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.96] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.26] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.50] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.98] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.08] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.03] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.63] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.74] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.35] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.39] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.78] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.13] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.76] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.30] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.57] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.28] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.31] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.27] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.60] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.25] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.24] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.35] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.18] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.18] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.04] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.28] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.09] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.73] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.33] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.49] And last but not least\n[04:24.87] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.03] Word up!\n[04:29.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Cam’ron, McGruff, Terra, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Trooper J, Mike Boogie)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 490\n  end_ms: 2740\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2740\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8270\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8270\n  end_ms: 9620\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9620\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13640\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13640\n  end_ms: 14960\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14960\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20400\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20400\n  end_ms: 23280\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23280\n  end_ms: 25230\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25230\n  end_ms: 27620\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27620\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 35200\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35200\n  end_ms: 37210\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37210\n  end_ms: 40260\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40260\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 45370\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45370\n  end_ms: 48020\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48020\n  end_ms: 50550\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50550\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58180\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58180\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 65160\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65160\n  end_ms: 67420\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67420\n  end_ms: 70110\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70110\n  end_ms: 72460\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72460\n  end_ms: 75540\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75540\n  end_ms: 78380\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78380\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 82290\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82290\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 90240\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90240\n  end_ms: 92090\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92090\n  end_ms: 95350\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95350\n  end_ms: 96830\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96830\n  end_ms: 99280\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99280\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112160\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112160\n  end_ms: 115270\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115270\n  end_ms: 117030\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117030\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122240\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122240\n  end_ms: 124760\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124760\n  end_ms: 127050\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127050\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 132440\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132440\n  end_ms: 135230\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135230\n  end_ms: 137450\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137450\n  end_ms: 139910\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139910\n  end_ms: 143190\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143190\n  end_ms: 145270\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145270\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 149830\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149830\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157600\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157600\n  end_ms: 160110\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160110\n  end_ms: 162440\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162440\n  end_ms: 165380\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165380\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172530\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172530\n  end_ms: 175280\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175280\n  end_ms: 176690\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176690\n  end_ms: 178600\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178600\n  end_ms: 179530\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179530\n  end_ms: 182960\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182960\n  end_ms: 185260\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185260\n  end_ms: 187500\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187500\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192980\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192980\n  end_ms: 195080\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195080\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200030\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200030\n  end_ms: 202630\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202630\n  end_ms: 204740\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204740\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210350\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210350\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 213780\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213780\n  end_ms: 215130\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215130\n  end_ms: 217760\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217760\n  end_ms: 220300\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220300\n  end_ms: 222570\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222570\n  end_ms: 225280\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225280\n  end_ms: 227310\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227310\n  end_ms: 230270\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230270\n  end_ms: 232600\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232600\n  end_ms: 235250\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235250\n  end_ms: 237240\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237240\n  end_ms: 240350\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240350\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245180\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245180\n  end_ms: 248040\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248040\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252280\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252280\n  end_ms: 255090\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255090\n  end_ms: 257730\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257730\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 263490\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263490\n  end_ms: 264870\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264870\n  end_ms: 269030\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269030\n  end_ms: 269770\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269770\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":10908843,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J & Mike Boogie)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J & Mike Boogie)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":299.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.47] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.76] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.29] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.63] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.67] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.92] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.53] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.35] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.23] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.30] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.69] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.29] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.66] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.26] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.24] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.24] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.44] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.33] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.08] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.58] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.31] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.15] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.11] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.37] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.36] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.17] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.47] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.14] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.41] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.53] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.30] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.22] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.23] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.25] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.35] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.22] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.07] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.38] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.86] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.30] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.29] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.15] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.13] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.23] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.09] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.18] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.25] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.77] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.06] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.04] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.41] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.27] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.42] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.98] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.14] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.28] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.52] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.84] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.57] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.16] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.46] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.31] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.47] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.59] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.23] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.62] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.67] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.59] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.90] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.21] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.43] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.90] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.09] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.06] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.64] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.71] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.31] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.32] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.74] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.14] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.71] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.35] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.58] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.23] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.36] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.25] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.69] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.22] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.26] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.37] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.16] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.17] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.00] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.24] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.01] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.77] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.35] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.43] And last but not least\n[04:24.81] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.06] Word up!\n[04:29.71] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless, Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J & Mike Boogie)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 299000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 470\n  end_ms: 2760\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2760\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 9630\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9630\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 14920\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14920\n  end_ms: 17530\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17530\n  end_ms: 20350\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20350\n  end_ms: 23230\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23230\n  end_ms: 25300\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25300\n  end_ms: 27690\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27690\n  end_ms: 30290\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30290\n  end_ms: 32660\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32660\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 37240\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37240\n  end_ms: 40240\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40240\n  end_ms: 42440\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42440\n  end_ms: 45330\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45330\n  end_ms: 48080\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48080\n  end_ms: 50580\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50580\n  end_ms: 52310\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52310\n  end_ms: 55150\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55150\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 60370\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60370\n  end_ms: 62360\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62360\n  end_ms: 65170\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65170\n  end_ms: 67470\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67470\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 75530\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75530\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80220\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80220\n  end_ms: 82230\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82230\n  end_ms: 85250\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85250\n  end_ms: 88350\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88350\n  end_ms: 90220\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90220\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 95380\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95380\n  end_ms: 96860\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96860\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107290\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107290\n  end_ms: 110150\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110150\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 115230\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115230\n  end_ms: 117090\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117090\n  end_ms: 120180\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120180\n  end_ms: 122250\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122250\n  end_ms: 124770\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124770\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132410\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132410\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 137420\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137420\n  end_ms: 139980\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139980\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145280\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145280\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157570\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157570\n  end_ms: 160160\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160160\n  end_ms: 162460\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162460\n  end_ms: 165310\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165310\n  end_ms: 167470\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167470\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172590\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172590\n  end_ms: 175230\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175230\n  end_ms: 176620\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176620\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 179590\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179590\n  end_ms: 182900\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182900\n  end_ms: 185210\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185210\n  end_ms: 187430\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187430\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192900\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192900\n  end_ms: 195090\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195090\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200060\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200060\n  end_ms: 202640\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202640\n  end_ms: 204710\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204710\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210310\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210310\n  end_ms: 212320\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212320\n  end_ms: 213740\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213740\n  end_ms: 215140\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215140\n  end_ms: 217710\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217710\n  end_ms: 220350\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225230\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225230\n  end_ms: 227360\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227360\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235220\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235220\n  end_ms: 237260\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237260\n  end_ms: 240370\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240370\n  end_ms: 243160\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243160\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 248000\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248000\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252240\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252240\n  end_ms: 255010\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255010\n  end_ms: 257770\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257770\n  end_ms: 260350\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260350\n  end_ms: 263430\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263430\n  end_ms: 264810\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264810\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 269710\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269710\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":26513171,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan, & Trooper J)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan, & Trooper J)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":298.933333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.49] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.74] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.27] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.62] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.64] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.96] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.57] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.40] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.28] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.23] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.62] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.28] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.68] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.20] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.21] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.26] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.43] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.37] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.02] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.55] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.36] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.18] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.36] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.37] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.16] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.42] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.11] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.46] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.54] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.38] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.25] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.29] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.23] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.39] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.24] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.09] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.35] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.83] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.28] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.27] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.17] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.16] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.27] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.03] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.20] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.24] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.76] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.05] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.08] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.44] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.23] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.45] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.91] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.19] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.27] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.53] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.83] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.60] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.11] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.44] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.38] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.45] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.53] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.28] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.69] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.60] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.53] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.96] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.26] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.50] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.98] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.08] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.03] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.63] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.74] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.35] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.39] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.78] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.13] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.76] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.30] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.57] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.28] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.31] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.27] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.60] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.25] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.24] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.35] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.18] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.18] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.04] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.28] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.09] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.73] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.33] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.49] And last but not least\n[04:24.87] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.03] Word up!\n[04:29.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (Feat. Buddah Bless, Herb McGruff, Killa Cam, Mike Boogie, Terra, Big Twan, & Trooper J)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 298933\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 490\n  end_ms: 2740\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2740\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8270\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8270\n  end_ms: 9620\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9620\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13640\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13640\n  end_ms: 14960\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14960\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20400\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20400\n  end_ms: 23280\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23280\n  end_ms: 25230\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25230\n  end_ms: 27620\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27620\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 35200\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35200\n  end_ms: 37210\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37210\n  end_ms: 40260\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40260\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 45370\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45370\n  end_ms: 48020\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48020\n  end_ms: 50550\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50550\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58180\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58180\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 65160\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65160\n  end_ms: 67420\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67420\n  end_ms: 70110\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70110\n  end_ms: 72460\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72460\n  end_ms: 75540\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75540\n  end_ms: 78380\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78380\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 82290\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82290\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 90240\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90240\n  end_ms: 92090\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92090\n  end_ms: 95350\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95350\n  end_ms: 96830\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96830\n  end_ms: 99280\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99280\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112160\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112160\n  end_ms: 115270\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115270\n  end_ms: 117030\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117030\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122240\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122240\n  end_ms: 124760\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124760\n  end_ms: 127050\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127050\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 132440\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132440\n  end_ms: 135230\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135230\n  end_ms: 137450\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137450\n  end_ms: 139910\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139910\n  end_ms: 143190\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143190\n  end_ms: 145270\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145270\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 149830\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149830\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157600\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157600\n  end_ms: 160110\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160110\n  end_ms: 162440\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162440\n  end_ms: 165380\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165380\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172530\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172530\n  end_ms: 175280\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175280\n  end_ms: 176690\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176690\n  end_ms: 178600\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178600\n  end_ms: 179530\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179530\n  end_ms: 182960\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182960\n  end_ms: 185260\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185260\n  end_ms: 187500\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187500\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192980\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192980\n  end_ms: 195080\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195080\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200030\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200030\n  end_ms: 202630\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202630\n  end_ms: 204740\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204740\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210350\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210350\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 213780\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213780\n  end_ms: 215130\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215130\n  end_ms: 217760\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217760\n  end_ms: 220300\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220300\n  end_ms: 222570\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222570\n  end_ms: 225280\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225280\n  end_ms: 227310\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227310\n  end_ms: 230270\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230270\n  end_ms: 232600\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232600\n  end_ms: 235250\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235250\n  end_ms: 237240\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237240\n  end_ms: 240350\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240350\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245180\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245180\n  end_ms: 248040\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248040\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252280\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252280\n  end_ms: 255090\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255090\n  end_ms: 257730\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257730\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 263490\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263490\n  end_ms: 264870\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264870\n  end_ms: 269030\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269030\n  end_ms: 269770\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269770\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":38833485,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (feat. Twan, Buddah Bless, Killa Cam, Herb McGruff, Mike Boogie, Terra & Trooper J)","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (feat. Twan, Buddah Bless, Killa Cam, Herb McGruff, Mike Boogie, Terra & Trooper J)","artistName":"Big L","albumName":"Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous","duration":298.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'ma set it like this\n\nAyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\nI'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\nWicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\nWell, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\nInnovated, rappers, you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\nMCs are live, but I'm mad liver\nAyo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\nAyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\nStep to this and get your body blown\n'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAyo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\nAyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\nWhen I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nNo frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\nYeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\nAyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\nBut when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\nBut Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\nMy crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\nIt's the beast on attack, so make tracks\nI break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\nOn Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\nYou fight crooks, left and right hooks\nIf you front, get your life took!\n\nI'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\nI'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\nIn backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\nFrom seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\nAnd sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\nTrue, true, and before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginnin'\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\nWord up!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.49] Yo, my crew is in the house\n[00:02.74] Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n[00:05.11] Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n[00:08.27] And I'ma set it like this\n[00:09.62] Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n[00:11.93] You better surrender before you get smoked\n[00:13.64] You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n[00:14.96] I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n[00:17.57] So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n[00:20.40] Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n[00:23.28] Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n[00:25.23] I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n[00:27.62] So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n[00:30.28] I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n[00:32.68] Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n[00:35.20] I revive crowds with live styles\n[00:37.21] Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n[00:40.26] Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n[00:42.43] Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n[00:45.37] In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n[00:48.02] Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n[00:50.55] Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n[00:52.36] Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n[00:55.19] This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n[00:58.18] Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n[01:00.36] I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n[01:02.37] Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n[01:05.16] Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n[01:07.42] Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n[01:10.11] For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n[01:12.46] I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n[01:15.54] Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n[01:18.38] Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n[01:20.25] MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n[01:22.29] Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n[01:25.23] Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n[01:28.39] (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n[01:30.24] Ask the nigga in my last bout\n[01:32.09] He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n[01:35.35] Microphones I gotta tear\n[01:36.83] Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n[01:39.28] Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n[01:42.47] Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n[01:45.26] I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n[01:47.27] In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n[01:50.17] Step to this and get your body blown\n[01:52.16] 'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n[01:55.27] Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n[01:57.03] Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n[02:00.20] My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n[02:02.24] Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n[02:04.76] Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n[02:07.05] When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n[02:10.08] I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n[02:12.44] Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n[02:15.23] I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n[02:17.45] No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n[02:19.91] Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n[02:23.19] Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n[02:25.27] You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n[02:27.53] I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n[02:29.83] But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n[02:32.33] For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n[02:34.62] Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n[02:37.60] Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n[02:40.11] But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n[02:42.44] There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n[02:45.38] Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n[02:47.45] My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n[02:50.73] It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n[02:52.53] I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n[02:55.28] On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n[02:56.69] You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n[02:58.60] If you front, get your life took!\n[02:59.53] I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n[03:02.96] I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n[03:05.26] Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n[03:07.50] Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n[03:10.12] In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n[03:12.98] And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n[03:15.08] And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n[03:17.66] I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n[03:20.03] From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n[03:22.63] And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n[03:24.74] I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n[03:27.77] Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n[03:30.35] 'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n[03:32.39] That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n[03:33.78] And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n[03:35.13] Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n[03:37.76] So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n[03:40.30] And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n[03:42.57] 'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n[03:45.28] And it's death in every paragraph\n[03:47.31] And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n[03:50.27] No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n[03:52.60] I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n[03:55.25] And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n[03:57.24] And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n[04:00.35] Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n[04:03.18] Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n[04:05.18] True, true, and before I get up outta here\n[04:08.04] I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n[04:10.58] Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n[04:12.28] What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n[04:15.09] Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n[04:17.73] The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n[04:20.33] And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n[04:23.49] And last but not least\n[04:24.87] I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n[04:29.03] Word up!\n[04:29.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (feat. Twan, Buddah Bless, Killa Cam, Herb McGruff, Mike Boogie, Terra & Trooper J)\n  artist: Big L\n  album: Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous\n  duration_ms: 298000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my crew is in the house\n  start_ms: 490\n  end_ms: 2740\n- text: Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  start_ms: 2740\n  end_ms: 5110\n- text: Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  start_ms: 5110\n  end_ms: 8270\n- text: And I'ma set it like this\n  start_ms: 8270\n  end_ms: 9620\n- text: Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  start_ms: 9620\n  end_ms: 11930\n- text: You better surrender before you get smoked\n  start_ms: 11930\n  end_ms: 13640\n- text: You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  start_ms: 13640\n  end_ms: 14960\n- text: I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  start_ms: 14960\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20400\n- text: Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  start_ms: 20400\n  end_ms: 23280\n- text: Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  start_ms: 23280\n  end_ms: 25230\n- text: I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  start_ms: 25230\n  end_ms: 27620\n- text: So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n  start_ms: 27620\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 32680\n- text: Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  start_ms: 32680\n  end_ms: 35200\n- text: I revive crowds with live styles\n  start_ms: 35200\n  end_ms: 37210\n- text: Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n  start_ms: 37210\n  end_ms: 40260\n- text: Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  start_ms: 40260\n  end_ms: 42430\n- text: Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  start_ms: 42430\n  end_ms: 45370\n- text: In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  start_ms: 45370\n  end_ms: 48020\n- text: Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  start_ms: 48020\n  end_ms: 50550\n- text: Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  start_ms: 50550\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55190\n- text: This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  start_ms: 55190\n  end_ms: 58180\n- text: Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  start_ms: 58180\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 65160\n- text: Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  start_ms: 65160\n  end_ms: 67420\n- text: Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n  start_ms: 67420\n  end_ms: 70110\n- text: For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  start_ms: 70110\n  end_ms: 72460\n- text: I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  start_ms: 72460\n  end_ms: 75540\n- text: Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  start_ms: 75540\n  end_ms: 78380\n- text: Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n  start_ms: 78380\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 82290\n- text: Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  start_ms: 82290\n  end_ms: 85230\n- text: Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  start_ms: 85230\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 90240\n- text: Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  start_ms: 90240\n  end_ms: 92090\n- text: He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  start_ms: 92090\n  end_ms: 95350\n- text: Microphones I gotta tear\n  start_ms: 95350\n  end_ms: 96830\n- text: Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n  start_ms: 96830\n  end_ms: 99280\n- text: Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  start_ms: 99280\n  end_ms: 102470\n- text: Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  start_ms: 102470\n  end_ms: 105260\n- text: I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  start_ms: 105260\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Step to this and get your body blown\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112160\n- text: '''Cause I''m a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home'\n  start_ms: 112160\n  end_ms: 115270\n- text: Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  start_ms: 115270\n  end_ms: 117030\n- text: Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  start_ms: 117030\n  end_ms: 120200\n- text: My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  start_ms: 120200\n  end_ms: 122240\n- text: Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n  start_ms: 122240\n  end_ms: 124760\n- text: Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  start_ms: 124760\n  end_ms: 127050\n- text: When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  start_ms: 127050\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 132440\n- text: Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n  start_ms: 132440\n  end_ms: 135230\n- text: I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  start_ms: 135230\n  end_ms: 137450\n- text: No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  start_ms: 137450\n  end_ms: 139910\n- text: Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  start_ms: 139910\n  end_ms: 143190\n- text: Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  start_ms: 143190\n  end_ms: 145270\n- text: You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  start_ms: 145270\n  end_ms: 147530\n- text: I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  start_ms: 147530\n  end_ms: 149830\n- text: But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  start_ms: 149830\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 154620\n- text: Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  start_ms: 154620\n  end_ms: 157600\n- text: Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  start_ms: 157600\n  end_ms: 160110\n- text: But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  start_ms: 160110\n  end_ms: 162440\n- text: There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  start_ms: 162440\n  end_ms: 165380\n- text: Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n  start_ms: 165380\n  end_ms: 167450\n- text: My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  start_ms: 167450\n  end_ms: 170730\n- text: It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  start_ms: 170730\n  end_ms: 172530\n- text: I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  start_ms: 172530\n  end_ms: 175280\n- text: On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  start_ms: 175280\n  end_ms: 176690\n- text: You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  start_ms: 176690\n  end_ms: 178600\n- text: If you front, get your life took!\n  start_ms: 178600\n  end_ms: 179530\n- text: I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  start_ms: 179530\n  end_ms: 182960\n- text: I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  start_ms: 182960\n  end_ms: 185260\n- text: Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  start_ms: 185260\n  end_ms: 187500\n- text: Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  start_ms: 187500\n  end_ms: 190120\n- text: In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  start_ms: 190120\n  end_ms: 192980\n- text: And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  start_ms: 192980\n  end_ms: 195080\n- text: And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  start_ms: 195080\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200030\n- text: From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  start_ms: 200030\n  end_ms: 202630\n- text: And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n  start_ms: 202630\n  end_ms: 204740\n- text: I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  start_ms: 204740\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210350\n- text: '''Cause they know when I start droppin'' poems'\n  start_ms: 210350\n  end_ms: 212390\n- text: That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  start_ms: 212390\n  end_ms: 213780\n- text: And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  start_ms: 213780\n  end_ms: 215130\n- text: Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  start_ms: 215130\n  end_ms: 217760\n- text: So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  start_ms: 217760\n  end_ms: 220300\n- text: And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  start_ms: 220300\n  end_ms: 222570\n- text: '''Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two'\n  start_ms: 222570\n  end_ms: 225280\n- text: And it's death in every paragraph\n  start_ms: 225280\n  end_ms: 227310\n- text: And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  start_ms: 227310\n  end_ms: 230270\n- text: No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  start_ms: 230270\n  end_ms: 232600\n- text: I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  start_ms: 232600\n  end_ms: 235250\n- text: And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  start_ms: 235250\n  end_ms: 237240\n- text: And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  start_ms: 237240\n  end_ms: 240350\n- text: Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  start_ms: 240350\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245180\n- text: True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  start_ms: 245180\n  end_ms: 248040\n- text: I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  start_ms: 248040\n  end_ms: 250580\n- text: Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  start_ms: 250580\n  end_ms: 252280\n- text: What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  start_ms: 252280\n  end_ms: 255090\n- text: Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  start_ms: 255090\n  end_ms: 257730\n- text: The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  start_ms: 257730\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 263490\n- text: And last but not least\n  start_ms: 263490\n  end_ms: 264870\n- text: I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  start_ms: 264870\n  end_ms: 269030\n- text: Word up!\n  start_ms: 269030\n  end_ms: 269770\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 269770\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J and Mike Boogie\n  And I'ma set it like this\n\n  Ayo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin' this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash, or trespass and get your chest smashed\n\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go berserk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, 'cause these knuckles hurt\n\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley, I'm hotter than Cali\n  Wicked like Harry, and fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals, adios, ghost, I'm five thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flav, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, 'cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87, I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n\n  Innovated, rappers, you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff, and when I talk, every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad with big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a body-bag\n\n  MCs are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Ayo, my rhymes are more funky than an African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease, ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out!\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from Hell, I'm the fuck-up outta here\n\n  Ayo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews 'cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood, I'm servin' brothers quicker than fast food\n\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  'Cause I'm a no maricón, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Ayo, I'm quick to lick the mag' twice and cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin' melon got niggas jealin'\n  Ayo, fuck bribes, I'm takin' niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo! I'm bustin' chumps like a Glock 10\n  When I drops in, the top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme, I just kill your show\n\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  No frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail, dig?\n  Yeah, and I'm nasty, too nasty to trash me, bash me\n  Ayo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I got a pump that's sawed-off\n  But when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin', you'll come up missin' like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch 'cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about .9s and TEC's and never shot a water gun\n  But Killa Cam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease 'cause once I release\n\n  My crew from the East, we leavin' at least 20 police deceased\n  It's the beast on attack, so make tracks\n  I break backs, I jack with def gats and black MAC's\n  On Lenox Ave., ain't no light looks\n  You fight crooks, left and right hooks\n  If you front, get your life took!\n\n  I'm havin' nail-sharp pains in my brain like a Hellraiser\n  I'm blazin' trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the .9 with nothin' but lead?\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n\n  In backyard alleys, but I call 'em crack-more valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze, and I'm so confused\n  From seein' heads shake so many times, the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up to keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme 'cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  'Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes, poppin' bones\n  And sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're comin' to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I don't need a gun for you, none of you!\n  'Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my number two\n\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their motherfuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice 'cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a MAC-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm 'bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, eight is enough\n\n  True, true, and before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginnin'\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Ma$e Murda and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, The M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin' in Harlem, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew, my crew\n  Word up!\n"},{"id":7508427,"name":"8 Iz Enuff (Demo Version) [feat. Big L, Terra, Buddah Bless, Twan, Cam'ron, Trooper J & Mike Boogie] {Prod by Buckwild}","trackName":"8 Iz Enuff (Demo Version) [feat. Big L, Terra, Buddah Bless, Twan, Cam'ron, Trooper J & Mike Boogie] {Prod by Buckwild}","artistName":"Herb McGruff feat. Big L & Terra & Buddah Bless & Twan & Cam'ron & Trooper J & Mike Boogie","albumName":"The 1994 Demo","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo\nMy crew is in the house\nTerra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\nBig Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\nAnd I'mma set it like this\n\nAiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\nYou better surrender before you get smoked\nYou niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\nI put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast\nSo just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\nRap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\nDon't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\nI go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\nSo stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt\nI'm from the alley, not the valley\nI'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\nAnd fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\nI revive crowds with live styles\nDon't hang with jive pals\nAdios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\nWell, I'm flave, and I was down with the crime wave\nNow it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\nIn '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\nHold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\nInnovated, rappers you know who made it\nTell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\nThis nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\nAss brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\nI'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\nPut you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\nPower struck, Terra drops the follow-up\nSour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\nFor those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\nI'm on some murder stuff\nAnd when I talk every verb is rough\nFront on this and get beat bad\nWith big bats that bruise, break bones\nThen wind up bloody in a bodybag\nMC's are live, but I'm mad liver\nAiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver\nStep to this and get sliced with ease\nAte up like rice and peas\n(Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\nAsk the nigga in my last bout\nHe thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\nMicrophones I gotta tear\nPeace to Big L, straight from hell\nI'm the fuck up outta here\n\nAiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\nHerb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\nI rag crews cause I'm bad news\nIn a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food\nStep to this and get your body blown\nCause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home\nHere's some advice, I'm mad nice\nAiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\nAnd cold take a fag's life\nMy swellin melon got niggas jealin\nAiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\nYo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in\nThe top ten is rocked when it's locked in\nI just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\nBruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\nI got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\nBeen no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\nYeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\nBash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\nYou'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\nI never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\nAnd when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\nFor dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout\n\nRappers be funny like Fletch,\nCause they sections say they slaughter, son\nTalk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\nBut Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\nThere you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\nIncrease the peace that cease cause once I release\nMy crew from the east, we leavin at least\n20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\nSo make tracks, I break backs\nI jack with def gats and black macs\nOn Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\nLeft and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\nI'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\nI'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\nWho find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\nBoom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\nIn backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\nAnd I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\nAnd people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\nI'm in a daze and I'm so confused\nFrom seein heads shake so many times the lead make\nAnd Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\nI should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\nKids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\nCause they know when I start droppin' poems\nThat I be knockin' domes,\nPoppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home\nWord to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\nSo if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\nAnd niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\nCause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2\nAnd it's death in every paragraph\nAnd niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash\nNo need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\nI shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10\nAnd niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\nAnd sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\nNow I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\nPeace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough\n\nTrue, true\nAnd before I get up outta here\nI gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\nBrothers that was there since the beginning\nWhat's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\nPeace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew\nThe Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew\nAnd all the other crews that's representin in Harlem\nYou know what I'm sayin?\nAnd last but not least\nI gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew\nMy crew\nWord up","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 8 Iz Enuff (Demo Version) [feat. Big L, Terra, Buddah Bless, Twan, Cam'ron, Trooper J & Mike Boogie] {Prod by Buckwild}\n  artist: Herb McGruff feat. Big L & Terra & Buddah Bless & Twan & Cam'ron & Trooper J & Mike Boogie\n  album: The 1994 Demo\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo\n  My crew is in the house\n  Terra, Herb McGruff, Buddah Bless\n  Big Twan, Killa Cam, Trooper J, and Mike Boogie\n  And I'mma set it like this\n\n  Aiyo, folks who quote what I wrote get choked\n  You better surrender before you get smoked\n  You niggas be thinkin this kid is a joke?\n  I put chumps to rest fast, when my Smith-Wes' blast\n  So just dash or trespass and get your chest smashed\n  Rap New York rules, I sport jewels and extort crews\n  Don't get me pissed, I got a short fuse\n  I go bezerk when I put in work or do dirt, jerk\n  So stay alert, no smirk, cause these knuckles hurt\n  I'm from the alley, not the valley\n  I'm hotter than Cali, wicked like Harry\n  And fuck Sally, I rather marry Halle\n  I revive crowds with live styles\n  Don't hang with jive pals\n  Adios, ghost, I'm 5 thous'\n\n  Well, I'm flave, and I was down with the crime wave\n  Now it's time saved, yo, cause now I'm a rhyme slave\n  In '87 I sold cracks, collected some dough stacks\n  Hold gats, a joker got his soul taxed\n  Innovated, rappers you know who made it\n  Tell the Terra to rotate it, his raps are gold-plated\n  This nigga Terra is past butter, sharp like a glass cutter\n  Ass brother, I leave your rhyme trash gutter\n  I'm more rare, the MC in this warfare\n  Put you in a morgue where it's too late for that Lord prayer\n  Power struck, Terra drops the follow-up\n  Sour luck, niggas gotten props to swallow nuts\n\n  For those that don't know, yo, I'm Herb McGruff\n  I'm on some murder stuff\n  And when I talk every verb is rough\n  Front on this and get beat bad\n  With big bats that bruise, break bones\n  Then wind up bloody in a bodybag\n  MC's are live, but I'm mad liver\n  Aiyo, my rhymes are more funky than a African cab driver\n  Step to this and get sliced with ease\n  Ate up like rice and peas\n  (Herb, can you fight?) Yo, I'm nice with these\n  Ask the nigga in my last bout\n  He thought I just was on some gun shit, I had to knock his ass out\n  Microphones I gotta tear\n  Peace to Big L, straight from hell\n  I'm the fuck up outta here\n\n  Aiyo, it's time to get drastic, but God bless the fantastic\n  Herb passed it, now I melt the mic like it's plastic\n  I rag crews cause I'm bad news\n  In a mad mood I'm serving brothers quicker than fast food\n  Step to this and get your body blown\n  Cause I'm no maricon, for poems I slide the hotties home\n  Here's some advice, I'm mad nice\n  Aiyo, I'm quick to lick the mag twice\n  And cold take a fag's life\n  My swellin melon got niggas jealin\n  Aiyo, fuck bribes, I'm takin niggas lives like a felon\n\n  Yo, I bust chumps like a Glock 10, when I drops in\n  The top ten is rocked when it's locked in\n  I just abuse the flow, don't need a fuse to blow\n  Bruise the groove slow, when I rhyme I just kill the show\n  I got lines that's deeper than a jail bid\n  Been no frail, kids get nailed and read braille when they fail\n  Yeah, ain't I nasty, too nasty to trash me\n  Bash me, aiyo, that's dead, so don't ask me\n  You'd get bumped off if beef ever jumped off\n  I never come soft, I gotta pump that sawed-off\n  And when I let slugs out, you will get rubbed out\n  For dissin, you come up missing like a cub scout\n\n  Rappers be funny like Fletch,\n  Cause they sections say they slaughter, son\n  Talk about nines and tecs, and never shot a watergun\n  But Killa Kam, I get erratic when it comes to static\n  There you have it, a trigger fanatic with a automatic\n  Increase the peace that cease cause once I release\n  My crew from the east, we leavin at least\n  20 police deceased, it's the beast on attack\n  So make tracks, I break backs\n  I jack with def gats and black macs\n  On Lenox Ave. ain't no light looks, you fight crooks\n  Left and right hooks, if you front, get your life took\n\n  I'm havin nail-sharp pains in my brain like a hellraiser\n  I'm blazin trails from jail cells, so a trailblazer\n  Who find crime and fill the nine with nothin but lead\n  Boom-bye-bye, dem find another batty bwoy dead\n  In backyard alleys, but I call em crackyard valleys\n  And I pack more rallies than riots back in Cali\n  And people wanna know the reason why I blow my fuse\n  I'm in a daze and I'm so confused\n  From seein heads shake so many times the lead make\n  And Mike Boogie's next up, and keep my head straight\n\n  I should never rhyme cause every time I step into a contest\n  Kids evacuate the premises like it's a bomb threat\n  Cause they know when I start droppin' poems\n  That I be knockin' domes,\n  Poppin' bones and sendin' niggas hoppin' home\n  Word to God, it's kinda hard for a fag to touch this\n  So if you're come to see me, nigga, bring a cast and crutches\n  And niggas, I dont' need a gun for you, none of you\n  Cause I can kill you dead with the lead from my Number 2\n  And it's death in every paragraph\n  And niggas learn when I burn their muthafuckin' ass to ash\n  No need to question am I nice, cause it's a fact, friend\n  I shoot the gift like Santa Claus with a Mac-10\n  And niggas ain't half as nice, so they get sacrificed\n  And sent to the afterlife, they ain't no match for Mike\n  Now I'm bout to skate in a rush, just finished makin' it tough\n  Peace to Big L, ayo, 8 is enough\n\n  True, true\n  And before I get up outta here\n  I gotta say peace to D-Whiz and Short Man\n  Brothers that was there since the beginning\n  What's up to Rock-N-Will from the Hard Pack Crew\n  Peace to Mase Murder and the B.B.O. Crew\n  The Best Out Crew, the M&M Crew\n  And all the other crews that's representin in Harlem\n  You know what I'm sayin?\n  And last but not least\n  I gotta say peace to the 139th Street NFL Crew\n  My crew\n  Word up\n"}]