[{"id":33977810,"name":"Reality (Killing Every…)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every…)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":308.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every…)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 308000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":37686984,"name":"Reality (Killing Every...)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every...)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":308.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every...)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 308000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":23949254,"name":"Reality (Killing Everyý) (Vocal Mix)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Everyý) (Vocal Mix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)","duration":311.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Bundy shut your fuckin' ass\nMan, we just recorded that\nYeah\nThe fuck?\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check one, two, three\nLight 'em up, Hawaiian sess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip of wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga late\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI represent the Original Head\nKillin' the original dead (boo-ya)\nThat's my nigga Dred\nBlowin' the spot (blaow)\nFuck a Phillie\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline (and)\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn\nWe got the Bucktown Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light the bong style\nThat's like at night puffin' the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much La I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head\nEverybody must dead\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nI wake up in the mornin' (we puff La)\nI wake up in the evenin' (we puff La)\nCheck the blasé-blah\nI'm feelin' the rhyme from the rhythm and the soul\nI pack a twenty sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts, fuck them stunts\nNow what ya want is what ya get like Mikey Dees\nBitch, bend over, blow me, so I can feel the breeze\nGivin' my enemies time to recollect on the past\nWhen I bust that ass, bass to ya check\nFigured I get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnock your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., And Evil Dee\nT-to-the-r-e-v and the M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an Amen? (Amen)\nSee, we be\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nI like the night, if you like the night\nMa, I like the night (bitch-ass niggas take flight)\nYou want your gun I got your millimeter\nI eat a sucka duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight to way to serve the nigga on the curb\nI love my niggas so my niggas puff herb\nNow my niggas throw ya blunts in the air like this (like this)\nOriginal crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where he at? (Right here)\nAnother mission to be dissin'\nAnd who do I be dissin' (bitches)\nGod, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killin' the nigga\nThe one playin' the bigger\nThe one playin' the sucka ducks with my trigger\nI feel the bump comin' on in the set\n(Son, parlay on the wreck)\nFuck that, time to break a neck\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in sight\nKillin' every nigga in","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.66] Bundy shut your fuckin' ass\n[00:03.78] Man, we just recorded that\n[00:08.63] Yeah\n[00:11.29] The fuck?\n[00:30.44] Look inside of the mind and see\n[00:33.46] Original Heads, check one, two, three\n[00:36.25] Light 'em up, Hawaiian sess bless my mind\n[00:39.09] Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip of wine\n[00:42.43] But E&J'll make a nigga late\n[00:44.67] Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n[00:48.08] I represent the Original Head\n[00:50.28] Killin' the original dead (boo-ya)\n[00:52.58] That's my nigga Dred\n[00:53.95] Blowin' the spot (blaow)\n[00:55.66] Fuck a Phillie\n[00:56.45] Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n[00:59.44] Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n[01:01.69] You got your nine by your waistline (and)\n[01:04.85] Me and my niggas don't give a damn\n[01:07.16] We got the Bucktown Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n[01:10.67] Timberland make me General\n[01:12.73] Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n[01:16.32] Cheech & Chong style, light the bong style\n[01:18.56] That's like at night puffin' the L by the River Nile\n[01:21.96] I smoke so much La I hallucinate\n[01:23.97] Ill visions in my head\n[01:25.67] Everybody must dead\n[01:27.31] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:29.49] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:31.62] Killin' every nigga in\n[01:33.03] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:35.26] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:36.98] Killin' every nigga in\n[01:38.78] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:40.62] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:42.73] Killin' every nigga in\n[01:44.27] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:46.30] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[01:48.40] Killin' every nigga in\n[01:49.91] I wake up in the mornin' (we puff La)\n[01:52.70] I wake up in the evenin' (we puff La)\n[01:55.40] Check the blasé-blah\n[01:56.51] I'm feelin' the rhyme from the rhythm and the soul\n[01:59.04] I pack a twenty sack and watch a nigga fold\n[02:01.46] Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n[02:03.89] It's all about the blunts, fuck them stunts\n[02:06.61] Now what ya want is what ya get like Mikey Dees\n[02:09.72] Bitch, bend over, blow me, so I can feel the breeze\n[02:12.59] Givin' my enemies time to recollect on the past\n[02:15.85] When I bust that ass, bass to ya check\n[02:18.30] Figured I get bigger when I lose my beeper\n[02:20.72] Knock your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n[02:23.86] We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n[02:26.43] Buckshot, 5FT., And Evil Dee\n[02:29.48] T-to-the-r-e-v and the M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n[02:34.99] All my niggas in the place to be\n[02:37.22] Can I get an Amen? (Amen)\n[02:39.62] See, we be\n[02:40.84] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:42.91] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:44.92] Killin' every nigga in\n[02:46.40] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:48.43] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:50.54] Killin' every nigga in\n[02:52.00] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:54.09] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:56.18] Killin' every nigga in\n[02:57.58] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[02:59.67] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[03:01.81] Killin' every nigga in\n[03:03.36] I like the night, if you like the night\n[03:05.59] Ma, I like the night (bitch-ass niggas take flight)\n[03:08.88] You want your gun I got your millimeter\n[03:11.12] I eat a sucka duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n[03:14.87] Right to way to serve the nigga on the curb\n[03:17.52] I love my niggas so my niggas puff herb\n[03:19.87] Now my niggas throw ya blunts in the air like this (like this)\n[03:23.46] Original crooks never get dissed\n[03:25.79] If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n[03:28.49] 5, where he at? (Right here)\n[03:31.72] Another mission to be dissin'\n[03:33.61] And who do I be dissin' (bitches)\n[03:35.88] God, fuck the intermission\n[03:37.57] It's about killin' the nigga\n[03:39.18] The one playin' the bigger\n[03:40.59] The one playin' the sucka ducks with my trigger\n[03:43.18] I feel the bump comin' on in the set\n[03:45.32] (Son, parlay on the wreck)\n[03:46.82] Fuck that, time to break a neck\n[03:48.60] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[03:50.79] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[03:52.73] Killin' every nigga in\n[03:54.22] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[03:56.19] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[03:58.29] Killin' every nigga in\n[03:59.96] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[04:01.84] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[04:03.92] Killin' every nigga in\n[04:05.40] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[04:07.51] Killin' every nigga in sight\n[04:09.65] Killin' every nigga in","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Everyý) (Vocal Mix)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)\n duration_ms: 311000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Bundy shut your fuckin' ass\n start_ms: 660\n end_ms: 3780\n- text: Man, we just recorded that\n start_ms: 3780\n end_ms: 8630\n- text: Yeah\n start_ms: 8630\n end_ms: 11290\n- text: The fuck?\n start_ms: 11290\n end_ms: 30440\n- text: Look inside of the mind and see\n start_ms: 30440\n end_ms: 33460\n- text: Original Heads, check one, two, three\n start_ms: 33460\n end_ms: 36250\n- text: Light 'em up, Hawaiian sess bless my mind\n start_ms: 36250\n end_ms: 39090\n- text: Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip of wine\n start_ms: 39090\n end_ms: 42430\n- text: But E&J'll make a nigga late\n start_ms: 42430\n end_ms: 44670\n- text: Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n start_ms: 44670\n end_ms: 48080\n- text: I represent the Original Head\n start_ms: 48080\n end_ms: 50280\n- text: Killin' the original dead (boo-ya)\n start_ms: 50280\n end_ms: 52580\n- text: That's my nigga Dred\n start_ms: 52580\n end_ms: 53950\n- text: Blowin' the spot (blaow)\n start_ms: 53950\n end_ms: 55660\n- text: Fuck a Phillie\n start_ms: 55660\n end_ms: 56450\n- text: Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n start_ms: 56450\n end_ms: 59440\n- text: Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n start_ms: 59440\n end_ms: 61690\n- text: You got your nine by your waistline (and)\n start_ms: 61690\n end_ms: 64850\n- text: Me and my niggas don't give a damn\n start_ms: 64850\n end_ms: 67160\n- text: We got the Bucktown Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n start_ms: 67160\n end_ms: 70670\n- text: Timberland make me General\n start_ms: 70670\n end_ms: 72730\n- text: Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n start_ms: 72730\n end_ms: 76320\n- text: Cheech & Chong style, light the bong style\n start_ms: 76320\n end_ms: 78560\n- text: That's like at night puffin' the L by the River Nile\n start_ms: 78560\n end_ms: 81960\n- text: I smoke so much La I hallucinate\n start_ms: 81960\n end_ms: 83970\n- text: Ill visions in my head\n start_ms: 83970\n end_ms: 85670\n- text: Everybody must dead\n start_ms: 85670\n end_ms: 87310\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 87310\n end_ms: 89490\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 89490\n end_ms: 91620\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 91620\n end_ms: 93030\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 93030\n end_ms: 95260\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 95260\n end_ms: 96980\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 96980\n end_ms: 98780\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 98780\n end_ms: 100620\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 100620\n end_ms: 102730\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 102730\n end_ms: 104270\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 104270\n end_ms: 106300\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 106300\n end_ms: 108400\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 108400\n end_ms: 109910\n- text: I wake up in the mornin' (we puff La)\n start_ms: 109910\n end_ms: 112700\n- text: I wake up in the evenin' (we puff La)\n start_ms: 112700\n end_ms: 115400\n- text: Check the blasé-blah\n start_ms: 115400\n end_ms: 116510\n- text: I'm feelin' the rhyme from the rhythm and the soul\n start_ms: 116510\n end_ms: 119040\n- text: I pack a twenty sack and watch a nigga fold\n start_ms: 119040\n end_ms: 121460\n- text: Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n start_ms: 121460\n end_ms: 123890\n- text: It's all about the blunts, fuck them stunts\n start_ms: 123890\n end_ms: 126610\n- text: Now what ya want is what ya get like Mikey Dees\n start_ms: 126610\n end_ms: 129720\n- text: Bitch, bend over, blow me, so I can feel the breeze\n start_ms: 129720\n end_ms: 132590\n- text: Givin' my enemies time to recollect on the past\n start_ms: 132590\n end_ms: 135850\n- text: When I bust that ass, bass to ya check\n start_ms: 135850\n end_ms: 138300\n- text: Figured I get bigger when I lose my beeper\n start_ms: 138300\n end_ms: 140720\n- text: Knock your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n start_ms: 140720\n end_ms: 143860\n- text: We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n start_ms: 143860\n end_ms: 146430\n- text: Buckshot, 5FT., And Evil Dee\n start_ms: 146430\n end_ms: 149480\n- text: T-to-the-r-e-v and the M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n start_ms: 149480\n end_ms: 154990\n- text: All my niggas in the place to be\n start_ms: 154990\n end_ms: 157220\n- text: Can I get an Amen? (Amen)\n start_ms: 157220\n end_ms: 159620\n- text: See, we be\n start_ms: 159620\n end_ms: 160840\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 160840\n end_ms: 162910\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 162910\n end_ms: 164920\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 164920\n end_ms: 166400\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 166400\n end_ms: 168430\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 168430\n end_ms: 170540\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 170540\n end_ms: 172000\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 172000\n end_ms: 174090\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 174090\n end_ms: 176180\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 176180\n end_ms: 177580\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 177580\n end_ms: 179670\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 179670\n end_ms: 181810\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 181810\n end_ms: 183360\n- text: I like the night, if you like the night\n start_ms: 183360\n end_ms: 185590\n- text: Ma, I like the night (bitch-ass niggas take flight)\n start_ms: 185590\n end_ms: 188880\n- text: You want your gun I got your millimeter\n start_ms: 188880\n end_ms: 191120\n- text: I eat a sucka duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n start_ms: 191120\n end_ms: 194870\n- text: Right to way to serve the nigga on the curb\n start_ms: 194870\n end_ms: 197520\n- text: I love my niggas so my niggas puff herb\n start_ms: 197520\n end_ms: 199870\n- text: Now my niggas throw ya blunts in the air like this (like this)\n start_ms: 199870\n end_ms: 203460\n- text: Original crooks never get dissed\n start_ms: 203460\n end_ms: 205790\n- text: If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n start_ms: 205790\n end_ms: 208490\n- text: 5, where he at? (Right here)\n start_ms: 208490\n end_ms: 211720\n- text: Another mission to be dissin'\n start_ms: 211720\n end_ms: 213610\n- text: And who do I be dissin' (bitches)\n start_ms: 213610\n end_ms: 215880\n- text: God, fuck the intermission\n start_ms: 215880\n end_ms: 217570\n- text: It's about killin' the nigga\n start_ms: 217570\n end_ms: 219180\n- text: The one playin' the bigger\n start_ms: 219180\n end_ms: 220590\n- text: The one playin' the sucka ducks with my trigger\n start_ms: 220590\n end_ms: 223180\n- text: I feel the bump comin' on in the set\n start_ms: 223180\n end_ms: 225320\n- text: (Son, parlay on the wreck)\n start_ms: 225320\n end_ms: 226820\n- text: Fuck that, time to break a neck\n start_ms: 226820\n end_ms: 228600\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 228600\n end_ms: 230790\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 230790\n end_ms: 232730\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 232730\n end_ms: 234220\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 234220\n end_ms: 236190\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 236190\n end_ms: 238290\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 238290\n end_ms: 239960\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 239960\n end_ms: 241840\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 241840\n end_ms: 243920\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 243920\n end_ms: 245400\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 245400\n end_ms: 247510\n- text: Killin' every nigga in sight\n start_ms: 247510\n end_ms: 249650\n- text: Killin' every nigga in\n start_ms: 249650\nplain: |-\n Bundy shut your fuckin' ass\n Man, we just recorded that\n Yeah\n The fuck?\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check one, two, three\n Light 'em up, Hawaiian sess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip of wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga late\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I represent the Original Head\n Killin' the original dead (boo-ya)\n That's my nigga Dred\n Blowin' the spot (blaow)\n Fuck a Phillie\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline (and)\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn\n We got the Bucktown Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light the bong style\n That's like at night puffin' the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much La I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head\n Everybody must dead\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n I wake up in the mornin' (we puff La)\n I wake up in the evenin' (we puff La)\n Check the blasé-blah\n I'm feelin' the rhyme from the rhythm and the soul\n I pack a twenty sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts, fuck them stunts\n Now what ya want is what ya get like Mikey Dees\n Bitch, bend over, blow me, so I can feel the breeze\n Givin' my enemies time to recollect on the past\n When I bust that ass, bass to ya check\n Figured I get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knock your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., And Evil Dee\n T-to-the-r-e-v and the M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an Amen? (Amen)\n See, we be\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n I like the night, if you like the night\n Ma, I like the night (bitch-ass niggas take flight)\n You want your gun I got your millimeter\n I eat a sucka duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right to way to serve the nigga on the curb\n I love my niggas so my niggas puff herb\n Now my niggas throw ya blunts in the air like this (like this)\n Original crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where he at? (Right here)\n Another mission to be dissin'\n And who do I be dissin' (bitches)\n God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killin' the nigga\n The one playin' the bigger\n The one playin' the sucka ducks with my trigger\n I feel the bump comin' on in the set\n (Son, parlay on the wreck)\n Fuck that, time to break a neck\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in sight\n Killin' every nigga in\n"},{"id":14504009,"name":"REALITY (KILLING EVERY…)","trackName":"REALITY (KILLING EVERY…)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"DAH INSTRUMENTALZ","duration":305.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: REALITY (KILLING EVERY…)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: DAH INSTRUMENTALZ\n duration_ms: 305000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":24378478,"name":"REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)","trackName":"REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"DAH INSTRUMENTALZ","duration":304.6,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: DAH INSTRUMENTALZ\n duration_ms: 304600\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":33675454,"name":"Reality (Killing Every…)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every…)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage","duration":310.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every…)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: Enta da Stage\n duration_ms: 310000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":28971099,"name":"Reality (Killing Every...)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every...)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta Da Stage (The Complete Edition)","duration":310.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every...)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: Enta Da Stage (The Complete Edition)\n duration_ms: 310000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":28886329,"name":"Reality (Killing Every…)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every…)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage","duration":220.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every…)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: Enta da Stage\n duration_ms: 220000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":29246842,"name":"Reality (Killing Every…)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every…)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage: The Complete Edition","duration":310.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every…)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: 'Enta da Stage: The Complete Edition'\n duration_ms: 310000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":39241331,"name":"Reality (Killing Every...)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every...)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Ego Trip's Greatest Hip Hop Singles: 1994","duration":310.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every...)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: 'Ego Trip''s Greatest Hip Hop Singles: 1994'\n duration_ms: 309747\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":39659033,"name":"Reality (Killing Every...)","trackName":"Reality (Killing Every...)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta Da Stage","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Reality (Killing Every...)\n\nBundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\nwe just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\nLook inside of the mind and see\nOriginal Heads, check 1, 2, 3\nLight 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\nNow I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\nBut E&J'll make a nigga laid\nFigured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\nI'll represent the Original Head, killing\nThe original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\nBlowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\nFive got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm\nYou got your nine by your waistline, and\nMe and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\nThe Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\nTimberland make me General\nRoughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\nCheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\nLight at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\nI smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\nIll visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\nI wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\nCheck the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\nThe soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\nDon't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\nIt's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\nWhat you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\nBitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\nGiving my enemies time to recollect on\nThe past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\nFigured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\nKnocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\nWe be I and I be we 'cause we be family\nBuckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\nT-to-the-R-E-V and\nThe M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\nAll my niggas in the place to be\nCan I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nI like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\nThe night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\nYou want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\nA sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\nRight away to serve the nigga on a curb\nI love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\nMy niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n(Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\nIf we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n5, where you at? (Right here!)\nAnother mission to be dissing, and who do I\nBe dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\nIt's about killing the nigga, the one playing\nThe bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\nI feel a bump coming on in the set\n(Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\nKilling every nigga in sight, killing every\nNigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\nProduced By\nWilliam Rosario\nWritten By\nBuckshot\nRelease Date\nJanuary 1, 1994","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Reality (Killing Every...)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: Enta Da Stage\n duration_ms: 289000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Reality (Killing Every...)\n\n Bundy, shut your fucking ass (Yo, man,\n we just recorded that!). Yeah. The fuck?\n\n Look inside of the mind and see\n Original Heads, check 1, 2, 3\n Light 'em up. Hawaiian cess bless my mind\n Now I kick the rhyme for the nickel nine, take a sip a wine\n But E&J'll make a nigga laid\n Figured I stay to the blunts, save the liquor for my nigga Dee\n I'll represent the Original Head, killing\n The original dead. (Booyah!) That's my nigga Dred\n Blowing the spot (Blao!). Fuck a philly\n Five got the Dutch, Buckshot got the Colin Powell\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm\n You got your nine by your waistline, and\n Me and my niggas don't give a damn. We got\n The Bucktown, Boot Camp attitude, kill a man\n Timberland make me General\n Roughneck wild, big 'em up now, Bob Marley style\n Cheech & Chong style, light-the-bong style—that's\n Light at night, puffing the L by the River Nile\n I smoke so much lye, I hallucinate\n Ill visions in my head, everybody must dead\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I wake up in the morning (We puff lye)\n I wake up in the evening (We puff lye)\n Check the blahzayblah. I'm feeling the vibe from the rhythm and\n The soul. I pack a twenty-sack and watch a nigga fold\n Don't you hate niggas who make records for bitches?\n It's all about the blunts—fuck them stunts. Now\n What you want is what you get like Mickey Dee\n Bitch, bend over, blow me so I can feel a breeze\n Giving my enemies time to recollect on\n The past, when I bust that ass, bass took your check\n Figured I'd get bigger when I lose my beeper\n Knocked your head plus knot your dread, all while you're dead\n We be I and I be we 'cause we be family\n Buckshot, 5FT., and Evil Dee\n T-to-the-R-E-V and\n The M-to-the-E-E-C-H-E\n All my niggas in the place to be\n Can I get an amen? (Amen!) See, we be...\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n I like the night if you like the night, ma. I like\n The night (Bitch-ass niggas, take flight)\n You want your gun? I got your millimeter, I eat\n A sucker duck emcee to smoke blunts by the centimeter\n Right away to serve the nigga on a curb\n I love my niggas, so my niggas puff herb—now\n My niggas, throw your blunts in the air like this\n (Like this) Original Crooks never get dissed\n If we get dissed, niggas get that to the back\n 5, where you at? (Right here!)\n Another mission to be dissing, and who do I\n Be dissing? (Bitches) God, fuck the intermission\n It's about killing the nigga, the one playing\n The bigger, the one playing the sucker ducks with a trigger\n I feel a bump coming on in the set\n (Son parlay on the wreck) Fuck that. Time to break a neck\n\n Killing every nigga in sight, killing every\n Nigga in sight, killing every nigga in...\n\n Produced By\n William Rosario\n Written By\n Buckshot\n Release Date\n January 1, 1994\n"},{"id":30655738,"name":"I Got Cha Opin (vocal)","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin (vocal)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n\nWord up!\n\nI woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\nHe had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\nAt least I catch a bus before I hit my block\nI take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\nMove the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\nEverybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\nDig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\nLook at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\nI'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n#1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\nBut I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\nBack up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\nGo from left to right then front to back\nHerbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\nReact whenever I keep your head scopin'\nAhh don't front you know I got cha opin\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck my dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\nMe and my crew walk the streets at night\nLike lookin' for the right one, baby\nIf it's payday I'm at your doorstep\nI never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\nIs known for the tricks that is straight like toys\nIn the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\nWreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\nFrom the live that I sparked last night in the dark\nI be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\nResurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\nNow we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\nLast year on the box.\nPressure to come back with another fat single\nNot too underground to make you stop when you mingle\nBut bust it, pay attention to the third verse\nand I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n\nFirst of all listen, I'm the N you know that\nwhen you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\nRight away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\nIt's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\nSo I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\nAnd let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\nSee it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\nYou can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\nSee the best school me for the simple fact\nIt's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\nStill took the techs and Buck took the rocks\nSo forget the past, no more Shorty\nStrictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\nI gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\nI felt the fire\nPeople try this when your jam got cold\nUsed to be the man now your band got old\nI know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\nDon't front you know I got cha opin.\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\nYeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\nBig 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\nWe're coming to get you out, kid.\nAnd we out... no doubt.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin (vocal)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 265000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n\n Word up!\n\n I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n #1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\n But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n Go from left to right then front to back\n Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\n Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n Last year on the box.\n Pressure to come back with another fat single\n Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n\n First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n See the best school me for the simple fact\n It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n So forget the past, no more Shorty\n Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n I felt the fire\n People try this when your jam got cold\n Used to be the man now your band got old\n I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\n Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n We're coming to get you out, kid.\n And we out... no doubt.\n"},{"id":30866954,"name":"I Got Cha Opin (album version)","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin (album version)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"When I get bent, I must represent, no question\nGet up a dime spot, and then I'm off to the dread section\nRoots hit me off lovely\nComing out the spot, I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\nI'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\nBuck's pulling out on cops 'cause I want free Glocks\nWhat the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\nHitting them all, handguns and hand grenades\nI resemble the man that's wanted for murder\n\nGot your block locked down, so don't come any further\nIn my clip is a 22 dum-dum\nOh, yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\nYou know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\nI'm like the short and fly, so I'ma still get paid, I don't sweat it\nI'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\nA little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\nThis shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\nKid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nThen, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n\nRest in peace to my niggas in the East\nAnd all the real niggas that was shot by beast\nAround the way, all we do is spark mad ism\nNiggas be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\nBut let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\nSo, I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\nWord to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\nFronts in the bottom of my teeth like, whatever, shit\n\nOn the real, gettin' played, what, I never did\n'Cause on the mic, I gotta represent the real niggas\nThe field niggas get the motherfuckin' ill triggers\nWord to Herb, lick shot with my verb\nAnd keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\nI never got caught by a undercover DT\nNah, chill, G, T&T can't see me\nYou grab mics from the ones I left broken\nKid, don't front, you know I got you open\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nThen, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, word\n\nLate at night, I catch a buzz, then I write\nThe type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\nAnd be wanting to battle like every five minutes\nBut I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\nStraight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\nYou faggot-ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\nI hit your brain, and you felt the pain, maintain\nWhen it comes to a battle, you know the Buck reigns\nI overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n\nBitches be like \"Yo, who that? You're all that, yo, true that\"\nNever forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\nI used to make money, now, I just take it\nI do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\nBucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\nI keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\nEase out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\nBuck to your head, 'Now die' is my slogan\nDon't front, you know I got you open\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, know what I'm sayin'?\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nThen why you're frontin', you know I got you open, kid\nDon't stop frontin', you know I got you open\n\nWord life\nBad niggas open\nNow die is my motherfuckin' slogan\nAnd on that, buck to your brain","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin (album version)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 266000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n When I get bent, I must represent, no question\n Get up a dime spot, and then I'm off to the dread section\n Roots hit me off lovely\n Coming out the spot, I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\n I'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\n Buck's pulling out on cops 'cause I want free Glocks\n What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\n Hitting them all, handguns and hand grenades\n I resemble the man that's wanted for murder\n\n Got your block locked down, so don't come any further\n In my clip is a 22 dum-dum\n Oh, yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\n You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\n I'm like the short and fly, so I'ma still get paid, I don't sweat it\n I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\n A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\n This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\n Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Then, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n\n Rest in peace to my niggas in the East\n And all the real niggas that was shot by beast\n Around the way, all we do is spark mad ism\n Niggas be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\n But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\n So, I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\n Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n 'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\n Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like, whatever, shit\n\n On the real, gettin' played, what, I never did\n 'Cause on the mic, I gotta represent the real niggas\n The field niggas get the motherfuckin' ill triggers\n Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb\n And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\n I never got caught by a undercover DT\n Nah, chill, G, T&T can't see me\n You grab mics from the ones I left broken\n Kid, don't front, you know I got you open\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Then, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, word\n\n Late at night, I catch a buzz, then I write\n The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\n And be wanting to battle like every five minutes\n But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\n Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\n You faggot-ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\n I hit your brain, and you felt the pain, maintain\n When it comes to a battle, you know the Buck reigns\n I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n\n Bitches be like \"Yo, who that? You're all that, yo, true that\"\n Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\n I used to make money, now, I just take it\n I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\n Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\n I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\n Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\n Buck to your head, 'Now die' is my slogan\n Don't front, you know I got you open\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, know what I'm sayin'?\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Then why you're frontin', you know I got you open, kid\n Don't stop frontin', you know I got you open\n\n Word life\n Bad niggas open\n Now die is my motherfuckin' slogan\n And on that, buck to your brain\n"},{"id":23655438,"name":"I Got Cha Opin (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":263.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah\nOriginal crooks\nOriginal heads\nDoin' it like this\nWord up\nI woke up in the mornin', hopped on the train I saw my man\nHe had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\nAt least I catch a bus before I hit my block\nI take a mega hit from the \"On The Good Ship Lollipop\"\nMove the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\nEverybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\nDig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\nLook at my hot eyes and tell me how could you be cold?\nI'm comin' to you from the underground, with thunder sound\nNumber one question, \"Yo, how can I be down?\"\nWell, I'll tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\nBack up on the lighter so you can see the fire singer\nGo from left to right then front to back\nHerbal verbal letters give the mic contact\nReact whenever I keep the head scopin'\nAh, don't front, you know I got cha opin\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck my dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\nMe and my crew walk the streets at night\nLike, \"Lookin' for the right one, baby\"\nIf it's payday I'm at your doorstep\nI never sweat swingin' the ep' nowadays 'cause my rep\nIs known for the tricks that'll trade like toys\nIn the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\nWreckin' shop, I drop the top, I make the seeds pop\nFrom the La that I sparked last night in the dark\nI be dedicated to the moon 'cause it's Black\nResurrect, come back\nTell me about the other side, jack\nNow we goin' back to, \"Who's Got The Props?\"\nWhen I blew up the spot last year on The Box\nThh pressure to come back with another fat single\nNot too underground to make you stop when you mingle\nBut bust it, pay attention to the third verse\nAnd I'ma take you to another level first, yeah\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\nFirst of all listen, I'm the in you know\nThat when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\nRight away, I'm dimmin' the brighter day\nIt's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the pay\nSo I enter the brother zone\nI come to the front of the stage and let you know who's on the phone\nLeave it alone\nSee it's a hip-hop thang\nNot a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame\nYou can fool the rest but you can't fool me\nSee the best school me for the simple fact\nIt's the G-O-D, Buck-to-the-shot\nSteele to the Tek, then Ruck to the Rock\nSo forget the past, no more Shorty\nStrictly Buckshot, I rock you one down to forty below\nI gots to let her know\nThat I elevate at levels higher every time I felt the fire\nPeople tried to diss when your jam got cold\nUsed to be the man now your band got old\nI know the plan, so I keep 'em scopin'\nDon't front you know I got cha opin\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n(Duck Down)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\nYeah, without no doubt\nThis is dedicated to my man\nBig 5, Big Trev\nReal's in the place to be\nWe're comin' to get you out, kid\nAnd we out, no doubt","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.47] Yeah\n[00:05.33] Original crooks\n[00:07.65] Original heads\n[00:09.68] Doin' it like this\n[00:12.92] Word up\n[00:21.37] I woke up in the mornin', hopped on the train I saw my man\n[00:24.14] He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n[00:26.69] At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n[00:28.89] I take a mega hit from the \"On The Good Ship Lollipop\"\n[00:32.13] Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n[00:35.09] Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n[00:37.64] Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n[00:40.46] Look at my hot eyes and tell me how could you be cold?\n[00:43.26] I'm comin' to you from the underground, with thunder sound\n[00:46.62] Number one question, \"Yo, how can I be down?\"\n[00:48.68] Well, I'll tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n[00:51.45] Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire singer\n[00:54.26] Go from left to right then front to back\n[00:56.90] Herbal verbal letters give the mic contact\n[00:59.43] React whenever I keep the head scopin'\n[01:02.10] Ah, don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:05.09] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:07.66] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[01:10.36] (Duck Down)\n[01:11.17] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:13.04] Check my dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n[01:15.83] (Duck Down)\n[01:16.57] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:18.45] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[01:21.19] (Duck Down)\n[01:21.94] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:23.90] Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n[01:26.87] Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n[01:29.44] Like, \"Lookin' for the right one, baby\"\n[01:32.21] If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n[01:34.51] I never sweat swingin' the ep' nowadays 'cause my rep\n[01:37.72] Is known for the tricks that'll trade like toys\n[01:40.43] In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n[01:43.00] Wreckin' shop, I drop the top, I make the seeds pop\n[01:45.62] From the La that I sparked last night in the dark\n[01:48.63] I be dedicated to the moon 'cause it's Black\n[01:51.33] Resurrect, come back\n[01:52.89] Tell me about the other side, jack\n[01:54.59] Now we goin' back to, \"Who's Got The Props?\"\n[01:56.72] When I blew up the spot last year on The Box\n[01:59.56] Thh pressure to come back with another fat single\n[02:02.31] Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n[02:05.01] But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n[02:07.52] And I'ma take you to another level first, yeah\n[02:10.96] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:12.99] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[02:15.82] (Duck Down)\n[02:16.48] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:18.46] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n[02:21.27] (Duck Down)\n[02:21.96] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:23.92] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[02:26.68] (Duck Down)\n[02:27.34] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:29.35] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n[02:32.33] First of all listen, I'm the in you know\n[02:34.86] That when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n[02:37.64] Right away, I'm dimmin' the brighter day\n[02:40.06] It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the pay\n[02:43.86] So I enter the brother zone\n[02:45.61] I come to the front of the stage and let you know who's on the phone\n[02:48.44] Leave it alone\n[02:49.35] See it's a hip-hop thang\n[02:51.00] Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame\n[02:54.10] You can fool the rest but you can't fool me\n[02:56.68] See the best school me for the simple fact\n[02:59.38] It's the G-O-D, Buck-to-the-shot\n[03:02.07] Steele to the Tek, then Ruck to the Rock\n[03:04.83] So forget the past, no more Shorty\n[03:07.66] Strictly Buckshot, I rock you one down to forty below\n[03:11.13] I gots to let her know\n[03:12.39] That I elevate at levels higher every time I felt the fire\n[03:15.90] People tried to diss when your jam got cold\n[03:18.70] Used to be the man now your band got old\n[03:21.36] I know the plan, so I keep 'em scopin'\n[03:24.21] Don't front you know I got cha opin\n[03:27.24] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:29.34] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[03:32.13] (Duck Down)\n[03:32.83] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:34.78] Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n[03:37.59] (Duck Down)\n[03:38.24] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:40.15] It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n[03:42.97] (Duck Down)\n[03:43.76] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:45.74] Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n[03:48.90] Yeah, without no doubt\n[03:52.39] This is dedicated to my man\n[03:55.04] Big 5, Big Trev\n[03:57.01] Real's in the place to be\n[03:59.81] We're comin' to get you out, kid\n[04:02.59] And we out, no doubt","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 263000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah\n start_ms: 3470\n end_ms: 5330\n- text: Original crooks\n start_ms: 5330\n end_ms: 7650\n- text: Original heads\n start_ms: 7650\n end_ms: 9680\n- text: Doin' it like this\n start_ms: 9680\n end_ms: 12920\n- text: Word up\n start_ms: 12920\n end_ms: 21370\n- text: I woke up in the mornin', hopped on the train I saw my man\n start_ms: 21370\n end_ms: 24140\n- text: He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n start_ms: 24140\n end_ms: 26690\n- text: At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n start_ms: 26690\n end_ms: 28890\n- text: I take a mega hit from the \"On The Good Ship Lollipop\"\n start_ms: 28890\n end_ms: 32130\n- text: Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n start_ms: 32130\n end_ms: 35090\n- text: Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n start_ms: 35090\n end_ms: 37640\n- text: Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n start_ms: 37640\n end_ms: 40460\n- text: Look at my hot eyes and tell me how could you be cold?\n start_ms: 40460\n end_ms: 43260\n- text: I'm comin' to you from the underground, with thunder sound\n start_ms: 43260\n end_ms: 46620\n- text: Number one question, \"Yo, how can I be down?\"\n start_ms: 46620\n end_ms: 48680\n- text: Well, I'll tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n start_ms: 48680\n end_ms: 51450\n- text: Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire singer\n start_ms: 51450\n end_ms: 54260\n- text: Go from left to right then front to back\n start_ms: 54260\n end_ms: 56900\n- text: Herbal verbal letters give the mic contact\n start_ms: 56900\n end_ms: 59430\n- text: React whenever I keep the head scopin'\n start_ms: 59430\n end_ms: 62100\n- text: Ah, don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 62100\n end_ms: 65090\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 65090\n end_ms: 67660\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 67660\n end_ms: 70360\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 70360\n end_ms: 71170\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 71170\n end_ms: 73040\n- text: Check my dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n start_ms: 73040\n end_ms: 75830\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 75830\n end_ms: 76570\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 76570\n end_ms: 78450\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 78450\n end_ms: 81190\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 81190\n end_ms: 81940\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 81940\n end_ms: 83900\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n start_ms: 83900\n end_ms: 86870\n- text: Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n start_ms: 86870\n end_ms: 89440\n- text: Like, \"Lookin' for the right one, baby\"\n start_ms: 89440\n end_ms: 92210\n- text: If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n start_ms: 92210\n end_ms: 94510\n- text: I never sweat swingin' the ep' nowadays 'cause my rep\n start_ms: 94510\n end_ms: 97720\n- text: Is known for the tricks that'll trade like toys\n start_ms: 97720\n end_ms: 100430\n- text: In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n start_ms: 100430\n end_ms: 103000\n- text: Wreckin' shop, I drop the top, I make the seeds pop\n start_ms: 103000\n end_ms: 105620\n- text: From the La that I sparked last night in the dark\n start_ms: 105620\n end_ms: 108630\n- text: I be dedicated to the moon 'cause it's Black\n start_ms: 108630\n end_ms: 111330\n- text: Resurrect, come back\n start_ms: 111330\n end_ms: 112890\n- text: Tell me about the other side, jack\n start_ms: 112890\n end_ms: 114590\n- text: Now we goin' back to, \"Who's Got The Props?\"\n start_ms: 114590\n end_ms: 116720\n- text: When I blew up the spot last year on The Box\n start_ms: 116720\n end_ms: 119560\n- text: Thh pressure to come back with another fat single\n start_ms: 119560\n end_ms: 122310\n- text: Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n start_ms: 122310\n end_ms: 125010\n- text: But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n start_ms: 125010\n end_ms: 127520\n- text: And I'ma take you to another level first, yeah\n start_ms: 127520\n end_ms: 130960\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 130960\n end_ms: 132990\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 132990\n end_ms: 135820\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 135820\n end_ms: 136480\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 136480\n end_ms: 138460\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n start_ms: 138460\n end_ms: 141270\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 141270\n end_ms: 141960\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 141960\n end_ms: 143920\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 143920\n end_ms: 146680\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 146680\n end_ms: 147340\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 147340\n end_ms: 149350\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n start_ms: 149350\n end_ms: 152330\n- text: First of all listen, I'm the in you know\n start_ms: 152330\n end_ms: 154860\n- text: That when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n start_ms: 154860\n end_ms: 157640\n- text: Right away, I'm dimmin' the brighter day\n start_ms: 157640\n end_ms: 160060\n- text: It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the pay\n start_ms: 160060\n end_ms: 163860\n- text: So I enter the brother zone\n start_ms: 163860\n end_ms: 165610\n- text: I come to the front of the stage and let you know who's on the phone\n start_ms: 165610\n end_ms: 168440\n- text: Leave it alone\n start_ms: 168440\n end_ms: 169350\n- text: See it's a hip-hop thang\n start_ms: 169350\n end_ms: 171000\n- text: Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame\n start_ms: 171000\n end_ms: 174100\n- text: You can fool the rest but you can't fool me\n start_ms: 174100\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: See the best school me for the simple fact\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 179380\n- text: It's the G-O-D, Buck-to-the-shot\n start_ms: 179380\n end_ms: 182070\n- text: Steele to the Tek, then Ruck to the Rock\n start_ms: 182070\n end_ms: 184830\n- text: So forget the past, no more Shorty\n start_ms: 184830\n end_ms: 187660\n- text: Strictly Buckshot, I rock you one down to forty below\n start_ms: 187660\n end_ms: 191130\n- text: I gots to let her know\n start_ms: 191130\n end_ms: 192390\n- text: That I elevate at levels higher every time I felt the fire\n start_ms: 192390\n end_ms: 195900\n- text: People tried to diss when your jam got cold\n start_ms: 195900\n end_ms: 198700\n- text: Used to be the man now your band got old\n start_ms: 198700\n end_ms: 201360\n- text: I know the plan, so I keep 'em scopin'\n start_ms: 201360\n end_ms: 204210\n- text: Don't front you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 204210\n end_ms: 207240\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 207240\n end_ms: 209340\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 209340\n end_ms: 212130\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 212130\n end_ms: 212830\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 212830\n end_ms: 214780\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n start_ms: 214780\n end_ms: 217590\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 217590\n end_ms: 218240\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 218240\n end_ms: 220150\n- text: It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n start_ms: 220150\n end_ms: 222970\n- text: (Duck Down)\n start_ms: 222970\n end_ms: 223760\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 223760\n end_ms: 225740\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n start_ms: 225740\n end_ms: 228900\n- text: Yeah, without no doubt\n start_ms: 228900\n end_ms: 232390\n- text: This is dedicated to my man\n start_ms: 232390\n end_ms: 235040\n- text: Big 5, Big Trev\n start_ms: 235040\n end_ms: 237010\n- text: Real's in the place to be\n start_ms: 237010\n end_ms: 239810\n- text: We're comin' to get you out, kid\n start_ms: 239810\n end_ms: 242590\n- text: And we out, no doubt\n start_ms: 242590\nplain: |-\n Yeah\n Original crooks\n Original heads\n Doin' it like this\n Word up\n I woke up in the mornin', hopped on the train I saw my man\n He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n I take a mega hit from the \"On The Good Ship Lollipop\"\n Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n Look at my hot eyes and tell me how could you be cold?\n I'm comin' to you from the underground, with thunder sound\n Number one question, \"Yo, how can I be down?\"\n Well, I'll tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire singer\n Go from left to right then front to back\n Herbal verbal letters give the mic contact\n React whenever I keep the head scopin'\n Ah, don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check my dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n Like, \"Lookin' for the right one, baby\"\n If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n I never sweat swingin' the ep' nowadays 'cause my rep\n Is known for the tricks that'll trade like toys\n In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n Wreckin' shop, I drop the top, I make the seeds pop\n From the La that I sparked last night in the dark\n I be dedicated to the moon 'cause it's Black\n Resurrect, come back\n Tell me about the other side, jack\n Now we goin' back to, \"Who's Got The Props?\"\n When I blew up the spot last year on The Box\n Thh pressure to come back with another fat single\n Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n And I'ma take you to another level first, yeah\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee, number one DJ\n First of all listen, I'm the in you know\n That when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n Right away, I'm dimmin' the brighter day\n It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the pay\n So I enter the brother zone\n I come to the front of the stage and let you know who's on the phone\n Leave it alone\n See it's a hip-hop thang\n Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame\n You can fool the rest but you can't fool me\n See the best school me for the simple fact\n It's the G-O-D, Buck-to-the-shot\n Steele to the Tek, then Ruck to the Rock\n So forget the past, no more Shorty\n Strictly Buckshot, I rock you one down to forty below\n I gots to let her know\n That I elevate at levels higher every time I felt the fire\n People tried to diss when your jam got cold\n Used to be the man now your band got old\n I know the plan, so I keep 'em scopin'\n Don't front you know I got cha opin\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads meetin' the original crooks\n (Duck Down)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphragm, my man\n Yeah, without no doubt\n This is dedicated to my man\n Big 5, Big Trev\n Real's in the place to be\n We're comin' to get you out, kid\n And we out, no doubt\n"},{"id":36100253,"name":"I Got Cha Opin remix","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin remix","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\nWord up!\nI woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\nHe had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\nAt least I catch a bus before I hit my block\nI take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\nMove the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\nEverybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\nDig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\nLook at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\nI'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n#1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\nBut I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\nBack up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\nGo from left to right then front to back\nHerbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\nReact whenever I keep your head scopin'\nAhh don't front you know I got cha opin\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck my dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\nMe and my crew walk the streets at night\nLike lookin' for the right one, baby\nIf it's payday I'm at your doorstep\nI never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\nIs known for the tricks that is straight like toys\nIn the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\nWreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\nFrom the live that I sparked last night in the dark\nI be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\nResurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\nNow we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\nLast year on the box.\nPressure to come back with another fat single\nNot too underground to make you stop when you mingle\nBut bust it, pay attention to the third verse\nand I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\nFirst of all listen, I'm the N you know that\nwhen you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\nRight away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\nIt's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\nSo I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\nAnd let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\nSee it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\nYou can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\nSee the best school me for the simple fact\nIt's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\nStill took the techs and Buck took the rocks\nSo forget the past, no more Shorty\nStrictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\nI gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\nI felt the fire\nPeople try this when your jam got cold\nUsed to be the man now your band got old\nI know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\nDon't front you know I got cha opin.\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\nYeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\nBig 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\nWe're coming to get you out, kid.\nAnd we out... no doubt","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.42] Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n[00:11.83] Word up!\n[00:22.41] I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n[00:25.07] He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n[00:28.22] At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n[00:30.13] I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n[00:32.83] Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n[00:35.88] Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n[00:38.75] Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n[00:41.29] Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n[00:44.24] I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n[00:48.39] #1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\n[00:49.47] But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n[00:51.98] Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n[00:54.38] Go from left to right then front to back\n[00:57.40] Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n[01:00.23] React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n[01:02.97] Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n[01:05.86] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:08.16] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[01:11.41] (Duck Down!)\n[01:12.94] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:13.92] Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n[01:16.57] (Duck Down!)\n[01:17.41] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:18.45] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[01:22.18] (Duck Down!)\n[01:23.13] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:24.69] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[01:27.65] Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n[01:30.06] Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n[01:33.11] If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n[01:35.18] I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n[01:38.37] Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n[01:41.19] In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n[01:43.81] Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n[01:46.00] From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n[01:49.22] I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n[01:51.99] Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n[01:55.46] Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n[01:59.82] Last year on the box.\n[02:00.63] Pressure to come back with another fat single\n[02:02.85] Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n[02:06.00] But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n[02:09.22] and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n[02:11.64] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:13.80] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[02:16.74] (Duck Down!)\n[02:17.32] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:19.57] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n[02:22.01] (Duck Down!)\n[02:22.83] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:24.92] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[02:27.43] (Duck Down!)\n[02:28.31] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:30.15] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n[02:33.38] First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n[02:35.60] when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n[02:38.38] Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n[02:40.98] It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n[02:44.55] So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n[02:48.54] And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n[02:50.19] See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n[02:53.74] You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n[02:57.41] See the best school me for the simple fact\n[03:00.19] It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n[03:02.95] Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n[03:05.62] So forget the past, no more Shorty\n[03:08.32] Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n[03:11.74] I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n[03:15.58] I felt the fire\n[03:16.84] People try this when your jam got cold\n[03:19.38] Used to be the man now your band got old\n[03:22.04] I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n[03:25.04] Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n[03:27.79] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:30.59] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[03:32.95] (Duck Down!)\n[03:33.74] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:35.51] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[03:38.23] (Duck Down!)\n[03:39.26] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:41.15] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[03:42.65] (Duck Down!)\n[03:44.40] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:46.56] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[03:49.10] Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n[03:55.69] Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n[04:00.16] We're coming to get you out, kid.\n[04:03.18] And we out... no doubt\n[04:21.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin remix\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 266000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n start_ms: 5420\n end_ms: 11830\n- text: Word up!\n start_ms: 11830\n end_ms: 22410\n- text: I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n start_ms: 22410\n end_ms: 25070\n- text: He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n start_ms: 25070\n end_ms: 28220\n- text: At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n start_ms: 28220\n end_ms: 30130\n- text: I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n start_ms: 30130\n end_ms: 32830\n- text: Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n start_ms: 32830\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 38750\n- text: Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n start_ms: 38750\n end_ms: 41290\n- text: Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n start_ms: 41290\n end_ms: 44240\n- text: I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n start_ms: 44240\n end_ms: 48390\n- text: '#1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"'\n start_ms: 48390\n end_ms: 49470\n- text: But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n start_ms: 49470\n end_ms: 51980\n- text: Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n start_ms: 51980\n end_ms: 54380\n- text: Go from left to right then front to back\n start_ms: 54380\n end_ms: 57400\n- text: Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n start_ms: 57400\n end_ms: 60230\n- text: React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n start_ms: 60230\n end_ms: 62970\n- text: Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 62970\n end_ms: 65860\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 65860\n end_ms: 68160\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 68160\n end_ms: 71410\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 71410\n end_ms: 72940\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 72940\n end_ms: 73920\n- text: Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 73920\n end_ms: 76570\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 76570\n end_ms: 77410\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 77410\n end_ms: 78450\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 78450\n end_ms: 82180\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 82180\n end_ms: 83130\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 83130\n end_ms: 84690\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 84690\n end_ms: 87650\n- text: Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n start_ms: 87650\n end_ms: 90060\n- text: Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n start_ms: 90060\n end_ms: 93110\n- text: If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n start_ms: 93110\n end_ms: 95180\n- text: I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n start_ms: 95180\n end_ms: 98370\n- text: Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n start_ms: 98370\n end_ms: 101190\n- text: In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n start_ms: 101190\n end_ms: 103810\n- text: Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n start_ms: 103810\n end_ms: 106000\n- text: From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n start_ms: 106000\n end_ms: 109220\n- text: I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n start_ms: 109220\n end_ms: 111990\n- text: Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n start_ms: 111990\n end_ms: 115460\n- text: Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n start_ms: 115460\n end_ms: 119820\n- text: Last year on the box.\n start_ms: 119820\n end_ms: 120630\n- text: Pressure to come back with another fat single\n start_ms: 120630\n end_ms: 122850\n- text: Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n start_ms: 122850\n end_ms: 126000\n- text: But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n start_ms: 126000\n end_ms: 129220\n- text: and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n start_ms: 129220\n end_ms: 131640\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 131640\n end_ms: 133800\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 133800\n end_ms: 136740\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 136740\n end_ms: 137320\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 137320\n end_ms: 139570\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n start_ms: 139570\n end_ms: 142010\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 142010\n end_ms: 142830\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 142830\n end_ms: 144920\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 144920\n end_ms: 147430\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 147430\n end_ms: 148310\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 148310\n end_ms: 150150\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n start_ms: 150150\n end_ms: 153380\n- text: First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n start_ms: 153380\n end_ms: 155600\n- text: when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n start_ms: 155600\n end_ms: 158380\n- text: Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n start_ms: 158380\n end_ms: 160980\n- text: It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n start_ms: 160980\n end_ms: 164550\n- text: So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n start_ms: 164550\n end_ms: 168540\n- text: And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n start_ms: 168540\n end_ms: 170190\n- text: See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n start_ms: 170190\n end_ms: 173740\n- text: You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n start_ms: 173740\n end_ms: 177410\n- text: See the best school me for the simple fact\n start_ms: 177410\n end_ms: 180190\n- text: It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n start_ms: 180190\n end_ms: 182950\n- text: Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n start_ms: 182950\n end_ms: 185620\n- text: So forget the past, no more Shorty\n start_ms: 185620\n end_ms: 188320\n- text: Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n start_ms: 188320\n end_ms: 191740\n- text: I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n start_ms: 191740\n end_ms: 195580\n- text: I felt the fire\n start_ms: 195580\n end_ms: 196840\n- text: People try this when your jam got cold\n start_ms: 196840\n end_ms: 199380\n- text: Used to be the man now your band got old\n start_ms: 199380\n end_ms: 202040\n- text: I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n start_ms: 202040\n end_ms: 205040\n- text: Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n start_ms: 205040\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 210590\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 210590\n end_ms: 212950\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 212950\n end_ms: 213740\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 213740\n end_ms: 215510\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 215510\n end_ms: 218230\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 218230\n end_ms: 219260\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 219260\n end_ms: 221150\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 221150\n end_ms: 222650\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 222650\n end_ms: 224400\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 224400\n end_ms: 226560\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 226560\n end_ms: 229100\n- text: Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n start_ms: 229100\n end_ms: 235690\n- text: Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n start_ms: 235690\n end_ms: 240160\n- text: We're coming to get you out, kid.\n start_ms: 240160\n end_ms: 243180\n- text: And we out... no doubt\n start_ms: 243180\n end_ms: 261470\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 261470\nplain: |-\n Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n Word up!\n I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n #1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\n But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n Go from left to right then front to back\n Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n Last year on the box.\n Pressure to come back with another fat single\n Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n See the best school me for the simple fact\n It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n So forget the past, no more Shorty\n Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n I felt the fire\n People try this when your jam got cold\n Used to be the man now your band got old\n I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n We're coming to get you out, kid.\n And we out... no doubt\n"},{"id":37431545,"name":"I Got Cha Opin (album version)","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin (album version)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)","duration":252.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"When I get bent, I must represent, no question\nGet up a dime spot, and then I'm off to the dread section\nRoots hit me off lovely\nComing out the spot, I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\nI'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\nBuck's pulling out on cops 'cause I want free Glocks\nWhat the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\nHitting them all, handguns and hand grenades\nI resemble the man that's wanted for murder\n\nGot your block locked down, so don't come any further\nIn my clip is a 22 dum-dum\nOh, yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\nYou know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\nI'm like the short and fly, so I'ma still get paid, I don't sweat it\nI'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\nA little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\nThis shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\nKid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nThen, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n\nRest in peace to my niggas in the East\nAnd all the real niggas that was shot by beast\nAround the way, all we do is spark mad ism\nNiggas be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\nBut let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\nSo, I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\nWord to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\nFronts in the bottom of my teeth like, whatever, shit\n\nOn the real, gettin' played, what, I never did\n'Cause on the mic, I gotta represent the real niggas\nThe field niggas get the motherfuckin' ill triggers\nWord to Herb, lick shot with my verb\nAnd keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\nI never got caught by a undercover DT\nNah, chill, G, T&T can't see me\nYou grab mics from the ones I left broken\nKid, don't front, you know I got you open\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nThen, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, word\n\nLate at night, I catch a buzz, then I write\nThe type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\nAnd be wanting to battle like every five minutes\nBut I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\nStraight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\nYou faggot-ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\nI hit your brain, and you felt the pain, maintain\nWhen it comes to a battle, you know the Buck reigns\nI overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n\nBitches be like \"Yo, who that? You're all that, yo, true that\"\nNever forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\nI used to make money, now, I just take it\nI do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\nBucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\nI keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\nEase out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\nBuck to your head, 'Now die' is my slogan\nDon't front, you know I got you open\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, know what I'm sayin'?\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, word\nThen why you're frontin', you know I got you open, kid\nDon't stop frontin', you know I got you open\n\nWord life\nBad niggas open\nNow die is my motherfuckin' slogan\nAnd on that, buck to your brain","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin (album version)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I Got Cha Opin / Reality (Killing Every...)\n duration_ms: 251659\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n When I get bent, I must represent, no question\n Get up a dime spot, and then I'm off to the dread section\n Roots hit me off lovely\n Coming out the spot, I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\n I'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\n Buck's pulling out on cops 'cause I want free Glocks\n What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\n Hitting them all, handguns and hand grenades\n I resemble the man that's wanted for murder\n\n Got your block locked down, so don't come any further\n In my clip is a 22 dum-dum\n Oh, yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\n You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\n I'm like the short and fly, so I'ma still get paid, I don't sweat it\n I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\n A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\n This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\n Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Then, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n\n Rest in peace to my niggas in the East\n And all the real niggas that was shot by beast\n Around the way, all we do is spark mad ism\n Niggas be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\n But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\n So, I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\n Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n 'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\n Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like, whatever, shit\n\n On the real, gettin' played, what, I never did\n 'Cause on the mic, I gotta represent the real niggas\n The field niggas get the motherfuckin' ill triggers\n Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb\n And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\n I never got caught by a undercover DT\n Nah, chill, G, T&T can't see me\n You grab mics from the ones I left broken\n Kid, don't front, you know I got you open\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Then, why you frontin'? You know I got you open, word\n\n Late at night, I catch a buzz, then I write\n The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\n And be wanting to battle like every five minutes\n But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\n Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\n You faggot-ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\n I hit your brain, and you felt the pain, maintain\n When it comes to a battle, you know the Buck reigns\n I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n\n Bitches be like \"Yo, who that? You're all that, yo, true that\"\n Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\n I used to make money, now, I just take it\n I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\n Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\n I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\n Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\n Buck to your head, 'Now die' is my slogan\n Don't front, you know I got you open\n\n Don't front, you know I got you open\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, know what I'm sayin'?\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, word\n Then why you're frontin', you know I got you open, kid\n Don't stop frontin', you know I got you open\n\n Word life\n Bad niggas open\n Now die is my motherfuckin' slogan\n And on that, buck to your brain\n"},{"id":13052930,"name":"I Got Cha Opin (Vocal Mix)","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin (Vocal Mix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)","duration":269.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n\nWord up!\n\nI woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\nHe had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\nAt least I catch a bus before I hit my block\nI take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\nMove the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\nEverybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\nDig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\nLook at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\nI'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n#1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\nBut I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\nBack up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\nGo from left to right then front to back\nHerbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\nReact whenever I keep your head scopin'\nAhh don't front you know I got cha opin\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck my dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\nMe and my crew walk the streets at night\nLike lookin' for the right one, baby\nIf it's payday I'm at your doorstep\nI never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\nIs known for the tricks that is straight like toys\nIn the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\nWreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\nFrom the live that I sparked last night in the dark\nI be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\nResurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\nNow we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\nLast year on the box.\nPressure to come back with another fat single\nNot too underground to make you stop when you mingle\nBut bust it, pay attention to the third verse\nand I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nNow you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n\nFirst of all listen, I'm the N you know that\nwhen you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\nRight away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\nIt's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\nSo I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\nAnd let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\nSee it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\nYou can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\nSee the best school me for the simple fact\nIt's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\nStill took the techs and Buck took the rocks\nSo forget the past, no more Shorty\nStrictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\nI gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\nI felt the fire\nPeople try this when your jam got cold\nUsed to be the man now your band got old\nI know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\nDon't front you know I got cha opin.\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nIt's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n(Duck Down!)\n\nDon't front, you know I got cha opin\nCheck the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\nYeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\nBig 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\nWe're coming to get you out, kid.\nAnd we out... no doubt.","syncedLyrics":"[00:22.69] Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n[00:24.53] Word up!\n[00:25.43] I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n[00:27.21] He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n[00:29.06] At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n[00:30.83] I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n[00:31.77] Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n[00:35.38] Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n[00:39.05] Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n[00:41.76] Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n[00:44.53] I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n[00:46.37] #1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\n[00:49.14] But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n[00:51.86] Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n[00:54.56] Go from left to right then front to back\n[00:57.26] Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n[01:00.05] React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n[01:02.81] Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n[01:06.46] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:09.17] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[01:10.99] (Duck Down!)\n[01:12.83] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:13.75] Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n[01:16.44] (Duck Down!)\n[01:18.26] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:19.17] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[01:20.95] (Duck Down!)\n[01:22.83] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[01:25.54] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[01:26.44] Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n[01:30.08] Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n[01:32.77] If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n[01:34.65] I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n[01:37.35] Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n[01:41.02] In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n[01:43.78] Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n[01:46.53] From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n[01:49.23] I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n[01:51.94] Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n[01:54.74] Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n[01:58.36] Last year on the box.\n[02:01.06] Pressure to come back with another fat single\n[02:02.94] Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n[02:05.64] But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n[02:08.34] and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n[02:11.11] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:13.84] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[02:16.57] (Duck Down!)\n[02:17.45] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:19.26] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n[02:21.12] (Duck Down!)\n[02:22.92] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:27.47] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[02:29.25] (Duck Down!)\n[02:30.16] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[02:32.92] Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n[02:34.76] First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n[02:35.65] when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n[02:37.47] Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n[02:40.17] It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n[02:43.86] So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n[02:47.47] And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n[02:50.19] See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n[02:53.86] You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n[02:56.53] See the best school me for the simple fact\n[03:00.16] It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n[03:02.95] Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n[03:05.67] So forget the past, no more Shorty\n[03:08.43] Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n[03:11.06] I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n[03:15.65] I felt the fire\n[03:17.45] People try this when your jam got cold\n[03:19.28] Used to be the man now your band got old\n[03:21.06] I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n[03:25.66] Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n[03:27.48] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:30.16] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[03:32.95] (Duck Down!)\n[03:33.83] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:36.56] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[03:38.33] (Duck Down!)\n[03:39.28] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:42.06] It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n[03:44.85] (Duck Down!)\n[03:45.66] Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n[03:47.51] Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n[03:49.34] Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n[03:56.66] Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n[04:00.27] We're coming to get you out, kid.\n[04:03.86] And we out... no doubt.\n[04:04.82] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin (Vocal Mix)\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)\n duration_ms: 269000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n start_ms: 22690\n end_ms: 24530\n- text: Word up!\n start_ms: 24530\n end_ms: 25430\n- text: I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n start_ms: 25430\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 29060\n- text: At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n start_ms: 29060\n end_ms: 30830\n- text: I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n start_ms: 30830\n end_ms: 31770\n- text: Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n start_ms: 31770\n end_ms: 35380\n- text: Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n start_ms: 35380\n end_ms: 39050\n- text: Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n start_ms: 39050\n end_ms: 41760\n- text: Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n start_ms: 41760\n end_ms: 44530\n- text: I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n start_ms: 44530\n end_ms: 46370\n- text: '#1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"'\n start_ms: 46370\n end_ms: 49140\n- text: But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n start_ms: 49140\n end_ms: 51860\n- text: Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n start_ms: 51860\n end_ms: 54560\n- text: Go from left to right then front to back\n start_ms: 54560\n end_ms: 57260\n- text: Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n start_ms: 57260\n end_ms: 60050\n- text: React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n start_ms: 60050\n end_ms: 62810\n- text: Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 62810\n end_ms: 66460\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 66460\n end_ms: 69170\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 69170\n end_ms: 70990\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 70990\n end_ms: 72830\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 72830\n end_ms: 73750\n- text: Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 73750\n end_ms: 76440\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 76440\n end_ms: 78260\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 78260\n end_ms: 79170\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 79170\n end_ms: 80950\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 80950\n end_ms: 82830\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 82830\n end_ms: 85540\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 85540\n end_ms: 86440\n- text: Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n start_ms: 86440\n end_ms: 90080\n- text: Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n start_ms: 90080\n end_ms: 92770\n- text: If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n start_ms: 92770\n end_ms: 94650\n- text: I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n start_ms: 94650\n end_ms: 97350\n- text: Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n start_ms: 97350\n end_ms: 101020\n- text: In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n start_ms: 101020\n end_ms: 103780\n- text: Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n start_ms: 103780\n end_ms: 106530\n- text: From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n start_ms: 106530\n end_ms: 109230\n- text: I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n start_ms: 109230\n end_ms: 111940\n- text: Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n start_ms: 111940\n end_ms: 114740\n- text: Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n start_ms: 114740\n end_ms: 118360\n- text: Last year on the box.\n start_ms: 118360\n end_ms: 121060\n- text: Pressure to come back with another fat single\n start_ms: 121060\n end_ms: 122940\n- text: Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n start_ms: 122940\n end_ms: 125640\n- text: But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n start_ms: 125640\n end_ms: 128340\n- text: and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n start_ms: 128340\n end_ms: 131110\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 131110\n end_ms: 133840\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 133840\n end_ms: 136570\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 136570\n end_ms: 137450\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 137450\n end_ms: 139260\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n start_ms: 139260\n end_ms: 141120\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 141120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 147470\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 147470\n end_ms: 149250\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 149250\n end_ms: 150160\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 150160\n end_ms: 152920\n- text: Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n start_ms: 152920\n end_ms: 154760\n- text: First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n start_ms: 154760\n end_ms: 155650\n- text: when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n start_ms: 155650\n end_ms: 157470\n- text: Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n start_ms: 157470\n end_ms: 160170\n- text: It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n start_ms: 160170\n end_ms: 163860\n- text: So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n start_ms: 163860\n end_ms: 167470\n- text: And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n start_ms: 167470\n end_ms: 170190\n- text: See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n start_ms: 170190\n end_ms: 173860\n- text: You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n start_ms: 173860\n end_ms: 176530\n- text: See the best school me for the simple fact\n start_ms: 176530\n end_ms: 180160\n- text: It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n start_ms: 180160\n end_ms: 182950\n- text: Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n start_ms: 182950\n end_ms: 185670\n- text: So forget the past, no more Shorty\n start_ms: 185670\n end_ms: 188430\n- text: Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n start_ms: 188430\n end_ms: 191060\n- text: I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n start_ms: 191060\n end_ms: 195650\n- text: I felt the fire\n start_ms: 195650\n end_ms: 197450\n- text: People try this when your jam got cold\n start_ms: 197450\n end_ms: 199280\n- text: Used to be the man now your band got old\n start_ms: 199280\n end_ms: 201060\n- text: I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n start_ms: 201060\n end_ms: 205660\n- text: Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n start_ms: 205660\n end_ms: 207480\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 207480\n end_ms: 210160\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 210160\n end_ms: 212950\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 212950\n end_ms: 213830\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 213830\n end_ms: 216560\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 216560\n end_ms: 218330\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 218330\n end_ms: 219280\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 219280\n end_ms: 222060\n- text: It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n start_ms: 222060\n end_ms: 224850\n- text: (Duck Down!)\n start_ms: 224850\n end_ms: 225660\n- text: Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n start_ms: 225660\n end_ms: 227510\n- text: Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n start_ms: 227510\n end_ms: 229340\n- text: Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n start_ms: 229340\n end_ms: 236660\n- text: Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n start_ms: 236660\n end_ms: 240270\n- text: We're coming to get you out, kid.\n start_ms: 240270\n end_ms: 243860\n- text: And we out... no doubt.\n start_ms: 243860\n end_ms: 244820\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 244820\nplain: |-\n Yeah, original crooks, original heads. We doin' it like this.\n\n Word up!\n\n I woke up in the morning, hopped on a train I saw my man\n He had an L in his hand, hide it from the beast\n At least I catch a bus before I hit my block\n I take a mega hit frontin' on the good ship lollipop\n Move the hop so I can put the hip in the grip\n Everybody slip so I can take a trip to the dip\n Dig a deeper hole microphone control with soul\n Look at my hot eye's tell me how could you be cold\n I'm coming to you from the underground, with a thunder sound\n #1 question, \"Yo how can I be down?\"\n But I tell you bring your lighter and roll your finger\n Back up on the lighter so you can see the fire finger\n Go from left to right then front to back\n Herbal verbal lead is givin' the mic contact\n React whenever I keep your head scopin'\n Ahh don't front you know I got cha opin\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check my dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\n Me and my crew walk the streets at night\n Like lookin' for the right one, baby\n If it's payday I'm at your doorstep\n I never sweat swingin' the epp nowadays 'cuz my rep\n Is known for the tricks that is straight like toys\n In the cypher with my boys, we be gettin' busy\n Wreckin' shop. I drop the top make the seeds pop\n From the live that I sparked last night in the dark\n I be dedicated to the moon 'cuz it's Black\n Resurrect, come back, tell me about the other side jack\n Now we goin' back to \"Who's Got The Props?\" when I blew up the spot\n Last year on the box.\n Pressure to come back with another fat single\n Not too underground to make you stop when you mingle\n But bust it, pay attention to the third verse\n and I'mma take you to another level first, Yeah\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Now you're sweatin' Evil Dee number 1 DJ!\n\n First of all listen, I'm the N you know that\n when you see me at a show you better prepare for the flow\n Right away. I'm givin' you a brighter day.\n It's never sunny, still don't nothin' move but the honey out the page\n So I enta the brotha zone. I come to the front of the stage\n And let you know who's on the phone. Leave it alone.\n See it's a hip hop thang. Not a fake drip drop fame or corny ass lame.\n You can fool the rest but you can't fool me.\n See the best school me for the simple fact\n It's the g-o-d, buck to the shot\n Still took the techs and Buck took the rocks\n So forget the past, no more Shorty\n Strictly Buckshot, I rock you 1 down to 40 Below\n I gots to let her know that I am the day that never tire everytime\n I felt the fire\n People try this when your jam got cold\n Used to be the man now your band got old\n I know the plan, so I keep you scopin'\n Don't front you know I got cha opin.\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n It's the original heads, me, and the original crooks\n (Duck Down!)\n\n Don't front, you know I got cha opin\n Check the dialect from my diaphram my man\n\n Yeah, without no doubt. This is dedicated to my man\n Big 5, Big Trev. Real's in the place to be\n We're coming to get you out, kid.\n And we out... no doubt.\n"},{"id":38641829,"name":"I Got Cha Opin","trackName":"I Got Cha Opin","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)","duration":261.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Don't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nDon't front\nWhen I get bent I must represent, no question\nGet up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section\nRoots hit me off lovely\nComing out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\nI'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\nBuck's pulling out on cops cause I want free Glocks\nWhat the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\nHitting them all, hand guns and hand grenades\nUnreasonable the man that's wanted for murder\nGot your block locked down, so don't come any further\nIn my clip is a .22 dum-dum\nOh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\nYou know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\nI'm like the short and fly so I'mma still get paid, I don't sweat it\nI'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\nA little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\nThis shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\nKid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nWhy you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\nRest in peace to my niggas in the East\nAnd all the real niggas that was shot by beast\nAround the way all we do is spark mad ism\nLadies be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\nBut let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\nSo I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\nWord to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\nFronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit\nOn the real, gettin played, what, I never did\n'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas\nThe field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers\nWord to Herb, lick shot with my verb\nAnd keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\nI never got caught by a undercover DT\nNah chill AT&T can't see me\nYou grab mics from the ones I left broken\nKid, don't front, you know I got you open\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nWhy you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\nLate at night I catch a buzz, then I write\nThe type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\nAnd be wanting to battle like every five minutes\nBut I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\nStraight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\nYou faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\nI hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain\nWhen it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns\nI overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\nBitches be like \"Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that\"\nNever forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\nI used to make money, now I just take it\nI do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\nBucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\nI keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\nEase out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\nBuck to your head, now die is my slogan\nDon't front, you know I got you open\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\nWhy you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\nYo stop frontin' you know I got you open, kid","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.44]Don't front\n[00:03.51]Don't front\n[00:06.19]Don't front\n[00:08.95]Don't front\n[00:11.58]Don't front\n[00:14.00]Don't front\n[00:16.71]Don't front\n[00:19.27]Don't front\n[00:21.84]When I get bent I must represent, no question\n[00:24.73]Get up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section\n[00:27.78]Roots hit me off lovely\n[00:29.25]Coming out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\n[00:32.50]I'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\n[00:35.21]Buck's pulling out on cops cause I want free Glocks\n[00:37.53]What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\n[00:40.26]Hitting them all, hand guns and hand grenades\n[00:42.69]Unreasonable the man that's wanted for murder\n[00:45.43]Got your block locked down, so don't come any further\n[00:48.18]In my clip is a .22 dum-dum\n[00:50.83]Oh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\n[00:53.20]You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\n[00:55.53]I'm like the short and fly so I'mma still get paid, I don't sweat it\n[00:58.49]I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\n[01:01.26]A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\n[01:03.69]This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\n[01:06.39]Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n[01:09.12]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:11.96]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:14.58]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:17.16]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:19.65]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:22.43]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:25.04]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[01:27.46]Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n[01:30.25]Rest in peace to my niggas in the East\n[01:32.38]And all the real niggas that was shot by beast\n[01:35.05]Around the way all we do is spark mad ism\n[01:37.62]Ladies be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\n[01:40.33]But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\n[01:43.03]So I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\n[01:45.62]Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n[01:48.09]'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\n[01:50.93]Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit\n[01:53.67]On the real, gettin played, what, I never did\n[01:56.28]'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas\n[01:59.03]The field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers\n[02:01.65]Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb\n[02:03.87]And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\n[02:06.20]I never got caught by a undercover DT\n[02:09.35]Nah chill AT&T can't see me\n[02:11.98]You grab mics from the ones I left broken\n[02:14.16]Kid, don't front, you know I got you open\n[02:17.36]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:19.71]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:22.21]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:24.86]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:27.41]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:30.12]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:32.82]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[02:35.35]Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n[02:37.72]Late at night I catch a buzz, then I write\n[02:40.29]The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\n[02:42.92]And be wanting to battle like every five minutes\n[02:45.39]But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\n[02:48.09]Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\n[02:50.75]You faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\n[02:53.41]I hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain\n[02:55.83]When it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns\n[02:58.45]I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n[03:01.23]Bitches be like \"Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that\"\n[03:03.69]Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\n[03:06.36]I used to make money, now I just take it\n[03:09.02]I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\n[03:11.62]Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\n[03:14.06]I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\n[03:16.73]Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\n[03:19.22]Buck to your head, now die is my slogan\n[03:21.92]Don't front, you know I got you open\n[03:25.06]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:27.82]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:30.28]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:32.81]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:35.55]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:37.93]Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n[03:40.59]Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n[03:43.21]Yo stop frontin' you know I got you open, kid","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: I Got Cha Opin\n artist: Black Moon\n album: I GOT CHA OPIN b/w REALITY (KILLING EVERY...)\n duration_ms: 261000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 440\n end_ms: 3510\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 3510\n end_ms: 6190\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 6190\n end_ms: 8950\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 8950\n end_ms: 11580\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 11580\n end_ms: 14000\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 14000\n end_ms: 16710\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 16710\n end_ms: 19270\n- text: Don't front\n start_ms: 19270\n end_ms: 21840\n- text: When I get bent I must represent, no question\n start_ms: 21840\n end_ms: 24730\n- text: Get up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section\n start_ms: 24730\n end_ms: 27780\n- text: Roots hit me off lovely\n start_ms: 27780\n end_ms: 29250\n- text: Coming out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\n start_ms: 29250\n end_ms: 32500\n- text: I'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\n start_ms: 32500\n end_ms: 35210\n- text: Buck's pulling out on cops cause I want free Glocks\n start_ms: 35210\n end_ms: 37530\n- text: What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\n start_ms: 37530\n end_ms: 40260\n- text: Hitting them all, hand guns and hand grenades\n start_ms: 40260\n end_ms: 42690\n- text: Unreasonable the man that's wanted for murder\n start_ms: 42690\n end_ms: 45430\n- text: Got your block locked down, so don't come any further\n start_ms: 45430\n end_ms: 48180\n- text: In my clip is a .22 dum-dum\n start_ms: 48180\n end_ms: 50830\n- text: Oh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\n start_ms: 50830\n end_ms: 53200\n- text: You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\n start_ms: 53200\n end_ms: 55530\n- text: I'm like the short and fly so I'mma still get paid, I don't sweat it\n start_ms: 55530\n end_ms: 58490\n- text: I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\n start_ms: 58490\n end_ms: 61260\n- text: A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\n start_ms: 61260\n end_ms: 63690\n- text: This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\n start_ms: 63690\n end_ms: 66390\n- text: Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n start_ms: 66390\n end_ms: 69120\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 69120\n end_ms: 71960\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 71960\n end_ms: 74580\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 74580\n end_ms: 77160\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 77160\n end_ms: 79650\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 79650\n end_ms: 82430\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 82430\n end_ms: 85040\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 85040\n end_ms: 87460\n- text: Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 87460\n end_ms: 90250\n- text: Rest in peace to my niggas in the East\n start_ms: 90250\n end_ms: 92380\n- text: And all the real niggas that was shot by beast\n start_ms: 92380\n end_ms: 95050\n- text: Around the way all we do is spark mad ism\n start_ms: 95050\n end_ms: 97620\n- text: Ladies be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\n start_ms: 97620\n end_ms: 100330\n- text: But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\n start_ms: 100330\n end_ms: 103030\n- text: So I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\n start_ms: 103030\n end_ms: 105620\n- text: Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n start_ms: 105620\n end_ms: 108090\n- text: '''Cause I''m too nice to do bids or ever hit skid'\n start_ms: 108090\n end_ms: 110930\n- text: Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit\n start_ms: 110930\n end_ms: 113670\n- text: On the real, gettin played, what, I never did\n start_ms: 113670\n end_ms: 116280\n- text: '''Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas'\n start_ms: 116280\n end_ms: 119030\n- text: The field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers\n start_ms: 119030\n end_ms: 121650\n- text: Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb\n start_ms: 121650\n end_ms: 123870\n- text: And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\n start_ms: 123870\n end_ms: 126200\n- text: I never got caught by a undercover DT\n start_ms: 126200\n end_ms: 129350\n- text: Nah chill AT&T can't see me\n start_ms: 129350\n end_ms: 131980\n- text: You grab mics from the ones I left broken\n start_ms: 131980\n end_ms: 134160\n- text: Kid, don't front, you know I got you open\n start_ms: 134160\n end_ms: 137360\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 137360\n end_ms: 139710\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 139710\n end_ms: 142210\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 142210\n end_ms: 144860\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 144860\n end_ms: 147410\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 147410\n end_ms: 150120\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 150120\n end_ms: 152820\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 152820\n end_ms: 155350\n- text: Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 155350\n end_ms: 157720\n- text: Late at night I catch a buzz, then I write\n start_ms: 157720\n end_ms: 160290\n- text: The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\n start_ms: 160290\n end_ms: 162920\n- text: And be wanting to battle like every five minutes\n start_ms: 162920\n end_ms: 165390\n- text: But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\n start_ms: 165390\n end_ms: 168090\n- text: Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\n start_ms: 168090\n end_ms: 170750\n- text: You faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\n start_ms: 170750\n end_ms: 173410\n- text: I hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain\n start_ms: 173410\n end_ms: 175830\n- text: When it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns\n start_ms: 175830\n end_ms: 178450\n- text: I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n start_ms: 178450\n end_ms: 181230\n- text: Bitches be like \"Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that\"\n start_ms: 181230\n end_ms: 183690\n- text: Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\n start_ms: 183690\n end_ms: 186360\n- text: I used to make money, now I just take it\n start_ms: 186360\n end_ms: 189020\n- text: I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\n start_ms: 189020\n end_ms: 191620\n- text: Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\n start_ms: 191620\n end_ms: 194060\n- text: I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\n start_ms: 194060\n end_ms: 196730\n- text: Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\n start_ms: 196730\n end_ms: 199220\n- text: Buck to your head, now die is my slogan\n start_ms: 199220\n end_ms: 201920\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open\n start_ms: 201920\n end_ms: 205060\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 205060\n end_ms: 207820\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 207820\n end_ms: 210280\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 210280\n end_ms: 212810\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 212810\n end_ms: 215550\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 215550\n end_ms: 217930\n- text: Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 217930\n end_ms: 220590\n- text: Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 220590\n end_ms: 223210\n- text: Yo stop frontin' you know I got you open, kid\n start_ms: 223210\nplain: |-\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n Don't front\n When I get bent I must represent, no question\n Get up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section\n Roots hit me off lovely\n Coming out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me\n I'm easing on the Glock like, \"What up, hop\"\n Buck's pulling out on cops cause I want free Glocks\n What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade\n Hitting them all, hand guns and hand grenades\n Unreasonable the man that's wanted for murder\n Got your block locked down, so don't come any further\n In my clip is a .22 dum-dum\n Oh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum\n You know what I'm saying? Fret it or forget it\n I'm like the short and fly so I'mma still get paid, I don't sweat it\n I'm every MC's nightmare manifesting\n A little shorty pushing the fact that I'm best in\n This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne\n Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n Rest in peace to my niggas in the East\n And all the real niggas that was shot by beast\n Around the way all we do is spark mad ism\n Ladies be like, \"Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him\"\n But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight\n So I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face\n Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid\n 'Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid\n Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit\n On the real, gettin played, what, I never did\n 'Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas\n The field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers\n Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb\n And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb\n I never got caught by a undercover DT\n Nah chill AT&T can't see me\n You grab mics from the ones I left broken\n Kid, don't front, you know I got you open\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n Late at night I catch a buzz, then I write\n The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight\n And be wanting to battle like every five minutes\n But I'm in this like Guinness so that ass get finished\n Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame\n You faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine\n I hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain\n When it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns\n I overthrow the flow, niggas be like, \"Yo, how'd you do that?\"\n Bitches be like \"Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that\"\n Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it\n I used to make money, now I just take it\n I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete\n Bucking niggas down 'cause they think shit is sweet\n I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects\n Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx\n Buck to your head, now die is my slogan\n Don't front, you know I got you open\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Don't front, you know I got you open, kid\n Why you frontin'? You know I got you open, kid\n Yo stop frontin' you know I got you open, kid\n"}]