[{"id":12676152,"name":"Reform School","trackName":"Reform School","artistName":"Boldy James","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nget her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School\n  artist: Boldy James\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"},{"id":6615142,"name":"Reform School","trackName":"Reform School","artistName":"Boldy James feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nGet her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] Get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School\n  artist: Boldy James feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: Get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  Get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"},{"id":6615143,"name":"Reform School (feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis)","trackName":"Reform School (feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis)","artistName":"Boldy James","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nGet her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] Get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School (feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis)\n  artist: Boldy James\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: Get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  Get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"},{"id":15828103,"name":"Reform School (Featuring Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)","trackName":"Reform School (Featuring Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)","artistName":"Boldy James","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.44,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nget her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School (Featuring Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)\n  artist: Boldy James\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241440\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"},{"id":27965555,"name":"Reform School feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Dash and Domo Genesis","trackName":"Reform School feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Dash and Domo Genesis","artistName":"Boldy James","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nget her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Dash and Domo Genesis\n  artist: Boldy James\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"},{"id":29461586,"name":"Reform School (Feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)","trackName":"Reform School (Feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)","artistName":"Boldy James & The Alchemist","albumName":"My 1st Chemistry Set","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\nWe was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\nRunnin' with hooligans I put in my work\nWipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\nTwo .23's, when we ride on our enemies\nAnd hit em up if they don't hit me up first\nAnd my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\nNiggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\nBefore I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\nAnd how you niggas been some bitches since birth\nCause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\nTwistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\nWith a squig and a squirt\nHe dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\nGot some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\nUntil we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\nGive her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\nFuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\nBumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\nStuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\nLet me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\nDead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\nWith a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\nGrab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\nNow I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\nSpit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\nJust carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\nVarious hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\nCarry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\nI can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\nPantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\nFar from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\nYelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\nSpeak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\nRamp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\nBop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\nBars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\nSmokin' over green\nExhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\nAll the staples married with the basil\nIt's too reg, get it off my table\nWay I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\nDick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\nI'm spittin' rounds like a drum\nBitch said that man was a bum\nAnd he think he got that bag,\nget her high and dog her ass\nShe telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\nBefore the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\nJust got the word on what the lick bring\nEssex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\nIs you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\nRiding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\nNo license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\nI'll push that red line before fed time\nGet to flippin', write a verse or two\nNo, these niggas never heard of you\nDenzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.72] I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n[00:09.53] We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n[00:12.20] Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n[00:15.09] Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n[00:17.76] Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n[00:22.36] And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n[00:25.14] And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n[00:28.81] Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n[00:31.67] Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n[00:35.31] And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n[00:37.12] Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n[00:40.84] Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n[00:43.64] With a squig and a squirt\n[00:45.41] He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n[00:48.25] Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n[00:51.88] Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n[00:54.63] Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n[00:58.26] Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n[01:00.15] Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n[01:03.79] Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n[01:07.43] Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n[01:10.27] Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n[01:13.87] With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n[01:17.55] Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n[01:20.46] Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n[01:23.10] Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n[01:26.87] Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n[01:29.53] Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n[01:33.20] Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n[01:35.97] I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n[01:40.55] Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n[01:43.22] Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n[01:46.00] Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n[01:49.65] Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n[01:53.31] Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n[01:56.17] Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n[01:58.81] Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n[02:02.56] Smokin' over green\n[02:16.38] Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n[02:19.19] All the staples married with the basil\n[02:20.97] It's too reg, get it off my table\n[02:23.60] Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n[02:25.53] Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n[02:28.21] I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n[02:30.11] Bitch said that man was a bum\n[02:31.98] And he think he got that bag,\n[02:33.70] get her high and dog her ass\n[02:35.65] She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n[02:38.35] Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n[02:42.05] Just got the word on what the lick bring\n[02:44.75] Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n[02:48.48] Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n[02:51.12] Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n[02:54.82] No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n[02:57.53] I'll push that red line before fed time\n[03:00.38] Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n[03:02.13] No, these niggas never heard of you\n[03:04.00] Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n[03:59.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Reform School (Feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis)\n  artist: Boldy James & The Alchemist\n  album: My 1st Chemistry Set\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  start_ms: 6720\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 12200\n- text: Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  start_ms: 12200\n  end_ms: 15090\n- text: Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  start_ms: 15090\n  end_ms: 17760\n- text: Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  start_ms: 17760\n  end_ms: 22360\n- text: And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  start_ms: 22360\n  end_ms: 25140\n- text: And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  start_ms: 25140\n  end_ms: 28810\n- text: Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  start_ms: 28810\n  end_ms: 31670\n- text: Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  start_ms: 31670\n  end_ms: 35310\n- text: And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  start_ms: 35310\n  end_ms: 37120\n- text: Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  start_ms: 37120\n  end_ms: 40840\n- text: Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  start_ms: 40840\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: With a squig and a squirt\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45410\n- text: He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  start_ms: 45410\n  end_ms: 48250\n- text: Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  start_ms: 48250\n  end_ms: 51880\n- text: Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  start_ms: 51880\n  end_ms: 54630\n- text: Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n  start_ms: 54630\n  end_ms: 58260\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  start_ms: 58260\n  end_ms: 60150\n- text: Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  start_ms: 60150\n  end_ms: 63790\n- text: Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  start_ms: 63790\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 70270\n- text: Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  start_ms: 70270\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77550\n- text: Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  start_ms: 77550\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83100\n- text: Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  start_ms: 83100\n  end_ms: 86870\n- text: Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  start_ms: 86870\n  end_ms: 89530\n- text: Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  start_ms: 89530\n  end_ms: 93200\n- text: Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  start_ms: 93200\n  end_ms: 95970\n- text: I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  start_ms: 95970\n  end_ms: 100550\n- text: Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  start_ms: 100550\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106000\n- text: Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  start_ms: 106000\n  end_ms: 109650\n- text: Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  start_ms: 109650\n  end_ms: 113310\n- text: Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  start_ms: 113310\n  end_ms: 116170\n- text: Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  start_ms: 116170\n  end_ms: 118810\n- text: Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n  start_ms: 118810\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: Smokin' over green\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 136380\n- text: Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  start_ms: 136380\n  end_ms: 139190\n- text: All the staples married with the basil\n  start_ms: 139190\n  end_ms: 140970\n- text: It's too reg, get it off my table\n  start_ms: 140970\n  end_ms: 143600\n- text: Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  start_ms: 143600\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 148210\n- text: I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  start_ms: 148210\n  end_ms: 150110\n- text: Bitch said that man was a bum\n  start_ms: 150110\n  end_ms: 151980\n- text: And he think he got that bag,\n  start_ms: 151980\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: get her high and dog her ass\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 155650\n- text: She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  start_ms: 155650\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 164750\n- text: Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  start_ms: 164750\n  end_ms: 168480\n- text: Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  start_ms: 168480\n  end_ms: 171120\n- text: Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  start_ms: 171120\n  end_ms: 174820\n- text: No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  start_ms: 174820\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: I'll push that red line before fed time\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180380\n- text: Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  start_ms: 180380\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: No, these niggas never heard of you\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 239020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239020\nplain: |-\n  I'm a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit\n  We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips\n  Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work\n  Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt\n  Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies\n  And hit em up if they don't hit me up first\n  And my army fatigued, it's still gunpowder on the sleeve\n  Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt\n  Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy\n  And how you niggas been some bitches since birth\n  Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts\n  Twistin nigga's cap back and pop a nigga\n  With a squig and a squirt\n  He dug his own grave, I'm just revealin' the dirt\n  Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth\n  Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt\n  Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk\n\n  Fuck y'all niggas what y'all wanna do\n  Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew\n  Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool\n  Let me know if it's a problem cause the solving we could do\n\n  Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach\n  With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly\n  Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it\n  Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it\n  Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit\n  Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders\n  Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur\n  Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean\n  I can't help it it's Tan Cressida, gram sellers\n  Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar\n  Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back\n  Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can't tell us\n  Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off\n  Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot\n  Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly\n  Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly\n\n  Smokin' over green\n  Exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal\n  All the staples married with the basil\n  It's too reg, get it off my table\n  Way I pimp, shoulda stuck withe shrimp\n  Dick stuck to her lips, the money stuck to my thumbs\n  I'm spittin' rounds like a drum\n  Bitch said that man was a bum\n  And he think he got that bag,\n  get her high and dog her ass\n  She telling me 'bout homie's stash, I'm listening up and roll my grass\n  Before the blunt was even ashed, I hit my homie on the jag like\n  Just got the word on what the lick bring\n  Essex Country and he's sittin' on 'bout 6 Ps\n  Is you 'bout it? He say 'for sure' and we bust a move\n  Riding with my Top Gun like Tom fucking Cruise\n  No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs\n  I'll push that red line before fed time\n  Get to flippin', write a verse or two\n  No, these niggas never heard of you\n  Denzel in Training Day, motherfucker, I'm getting surgical\n"}]