[{"id":15516427,"name":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Majesty / 7 Sign","trackName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Majesty / 7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War [Disc 02]","duration":288.5333248,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nyou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nhave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nlet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Majesty / 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War [Disc 02]\n  duration_ms: 288533\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  you can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)\n"},{"id":6661525,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n[00:01.63] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.93] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:05.68] Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[00:08.46] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n[00:15.69] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:17.64] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:22.19] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:23.67] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:27.68] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.88] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.70] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n[00:33.73] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.47] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n[00:38.56] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.56] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.31] I see you but you can't see me\n[00:41.64] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.52] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.17] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.31] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:52.05] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.78] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:58.23] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.79] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:07.85] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.06] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.41] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:17.09] Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[01:18.07] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n[01:20.89] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:27.61] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:34.20] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:35.72] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:39.39] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:40.86] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.52] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.93] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.95] All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n[01:50.50] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.41] And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n[01:54.34] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.00] And I hope my mama really loves me\n[01:56.84] 'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.22] Inner pride with the Ripsta\n[01:59.97] Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.11] Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n[02:04.13] Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n[02:07.32] They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.63] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.31] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.54] Sacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.58] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:21.90] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.48] Sell a dream to 'em\n[02:25.68] Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n[02:29.05] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:33.14] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.29] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:42.04] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.91] Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:50.79] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.25] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.92] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:02.92] So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n[03:05.64] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:09.28] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:11.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.58] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.74] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.34] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.69] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.39] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:28.35] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.64] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.21] (Bizzy talking)\n[03:34.93] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.76] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.45] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:38.95] Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n[03:40.70] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.56] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:46.10] Where's the mob?\n[03:47.09] Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.36] Is you ready for jail?\n[03:50.58] Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.37] We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n[03:54.62] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.42] Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n[04:00.07] Will he put me in my tomb?\n[04:01.46] I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n[04:04.24] Stomped through Compton\n[04:05.16] And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n[04:07.61] I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n[04:09.36] \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n[04:10.98] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n[04:13.56] I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n[04:16.35] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.53] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:22.24] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.20] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.38] One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n[04:31.94] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n[04:35.73] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.38] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.41] And they got so? if it ain't?\n[04:41.36] This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n[04:43.35] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:44.97] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:46.12] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:46.96] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:49.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony\n  album: The Art of War\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 1630\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1630\n  end_ms: 2930\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2930\n  end_ms: 5680\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 5680\n  end_ms: 8460\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 15690\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 15690\n  end_ms: 17640\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 17640\n  end_ms: 22190\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 22190\n  end_ms: 23670\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 23670\n  end_ms: 27680\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27680\n  end_ms: 29880\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29880\n  end_ms: 31700\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  start_ms: 31700\n  end_ms: 33730\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33730\n  end_ms: 35470\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  start_ms: 35470\n  end_ms: 38560\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38560\n  end_ms: 39560\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39560\n  end_ms: 40310\n- text: I see you but you can't see me\n  start_ms: 40310\n  end_ms: 41640\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41640\n  end_ms: 43520\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43520\n  end_ms: 46170\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46170\n  end_ms: 49310\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49310\n  end_ms: 52050\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 52050\n  end_ms: 53780\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53780\n  end_ms: 58230\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 58230\n  end_ms: 61790\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61790\n  end_ms: 67850\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 67850\n  end_ms: 70060\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70060\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 77090\n- text: Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 77090\n  end_ms: 78070\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n  start_ms: 78070\n  end_ms: 80890\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 80890\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102520\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102520\n  end_ms: 104930\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104930\n  end_ms: 107950\n- text: All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107950\n  end_ms: 110500\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110500\n  end_ms: 112410\n- text: And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112410\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 115000\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me\n  start_ms: 115000\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: '''Cause daddy''s bye-bye'\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 118220\n- text: Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  start_ms: 118220\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 124130\n- text: Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  start_ms: 124130\n  end_ms: 127320\n- text: They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127320\n  end_ms: 130630\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130630\n  end_ms: 133310\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133310\n  end_ms: 136540\n- text: Sacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136540\n  end_ms: 138580\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138580\n  end_ms: 141900\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 141900\n  end_ms: 144480\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em\n  start_ms: 144480\n  end_ms: 145680\n- text: Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  start_ms: 145680\n  end_ms: 149050\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 149050\n  end_ms: 153140\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 153140\n  end_ms: 157290\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157290\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 170790\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 170790\n  end_ms: 176250\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176250\n  end_ms: 178920\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178920\n  end_ms: 182920\n- text: So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 182920\n  end_ms: 185640\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185640\n  end_ms: 189280\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 189280\n  end_ms: 191840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 191840\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196740\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196740\n  end_ms: 200340\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200340\n  end_ms: 202690\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202690\n  end_ms: 205390\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205390\n  end_ms: 208350\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 208350\n  end_ms: 211640\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211640\n  end_ms: 214210\n- text: (Bizzy talking)\n  start_ms: 214210\n  end_ms: 214930\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214930\n  end_ms: 215760\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215760\n  end_ms: 217450\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217450\n  end_ms: 218950\n- text: Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 218950\n  end_ms: 220700\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220700\n  end_ms: 222560\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222560\n  end_ms: 226100\n- text: Where's the mob?\n  start_ms: 226100\n  end_ms: 227090\n- text: Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 227090\n  end_ms: 229360\n- text: Is you ready for jail?\n  start_ms: 229360\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232370\n- text: We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232370\n  end_ms: 234620\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234620\n  end_ms: 237420\n- text: Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  start_ms: 237420\n  end_ms: 240070\n- text: Will he put me in my tomb?\n  start_ms: 240070\n  end_ms: 241460\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241460\n  end_ms: 244240\n- text: Stomped through Compton\n  start_ms: 244240\n  end_ms: 245160\n- text: And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  start_ms: 245160\n  end_ms: 247610\n- text: I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  start_ms: 247610\n  end_ms: 249360\n- text: '\"Murder, murderin'' ya\"'\n  start_ms: 249360\n  end_ms: 250980\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  start_ms: 250980\n  end_ms: 253560\n- text: I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  start_ms: 253560\n  end_ms: 256350\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256350\n  end_ms: 259530\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259530\n  end_ms: 262240\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 262240\n  end_ms: 265200\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265200\n  end_ms: 268380\n- text: One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  start_ms: 268380\n  end_ms: 271940\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271940\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275730\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275730\n  end_ms: 277380\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277380\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: And they got so? if it ain't?\n  start_ms: 279410\n  end_ms: 281360\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  start_ms: 281360\n  end_ms: 283350\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283350\n  end_ms: 284970\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 284970\n  end_ms: 286120\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 286120\n  end_ms: 286960\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 286960\n  end_ms: 289230\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":227838,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-n-Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War: World War 2","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n[00:01.63] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.93] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:05.68] Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[00:08.46] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n[00:15.69] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:17.64] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:22.19] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:23.67] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:27.68] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.88] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.70] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n[00:33.73] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.47] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n[00:38.56] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.56] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.31] I see you but you can't see me\n[00:41.64] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.52] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.17] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.31] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:52.05] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.78] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:58.23] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.79] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:07.85] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.06] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.41] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:17.09] Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[01:18.07] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n[01:20.89] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:27.61] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:34.20] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:35.72] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:39.39] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:40.86] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.52] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.93] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.95] All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n[01:50.50] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.41] And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n[01:54.34] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.00] And I hope my mama really loves me\n[01:56.84] 'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.22] Inner pride with the Ripsta\n[01:59.97] Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.11] Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n[02:04.13] Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n[02:07.32] They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.63] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.31] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.54] Sacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.58] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:21.90] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.48] Sell a dream to 'em\n[02:25.68] Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n[02:29.05] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:33.14] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.29] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:42.04] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.91] Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:50.79] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.25] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.92] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:02.92] So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n[03:05.64] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:09.28] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:11.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.58] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.74] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.34] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.69] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.39] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:28.35] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.64] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.21] (Bizzy talking)\n[03:34.93] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.76] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.45] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:38.95] Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n[03:40.70] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.56] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:46.10] Where's the mob?\n[03:47.09] Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.36] Is you ready for jail?\n[03:50.58] Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.37] We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n[03:54.62] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.42] Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n[04:00.07] Will he put me in my tomb?\n[04:01.46] I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n[04:04.24] Stomped through Compton\n[04:05.16] And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n[04:07.61] I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n[04:09.36] \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n[04:10.98] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n[04:13.56] I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n[04:16.35] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.53] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:22.24] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.20] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.38] One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n[04:31.94] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n[04:35.73] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.38] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.41] And they got so? if it ain't?\n[04:41.36] This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n[04:43.35] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:44.97] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:46.12] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:46.96] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:49.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-n-Harmony\n  album: 'The Art of War: World War 2'\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 1630\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1630\n  end_ms: 2930\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2930\n  end_ms: 5680\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 5680\n  end_ms: 8460\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 15690\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 15690\n  end_ms: 17640\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 17640\n  end_ms: 22190\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 22190\n  end_ms: 23670\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 23670\n  end_ms: 27680\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27680\n  end_ms: 29880\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29880\n  end_ms: 31700\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  start_ms: 31700\n  end_ms: 33730\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33730\n  end_ms: 35470\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  start_ms: 35470\n  end_ms: 38560\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38560\n  end_ms: 39560\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39560\n  end_ms: 40310\n- text: I see you but you can't see me\n  start_ms: 40310\n  end_ms: 41640\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41640\n  end_ms: 43520\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43520\n  end_ms: 46170\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46170\n  end_ms: 49310\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49310\n  end_ms: 52050\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 52050\n  end_ms: 53780\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53780\n  end_ms: 58230\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 58230\n  end_ms: 61790\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61790\n  end_ms: 67850\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 67850\n  end_ms: 70060\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70060\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 77090\n- text: Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 77090\n  end_ms: 78070\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n  start_ms: 78070\n  end_ms: 80890\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 80890\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102520\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102520\n  end_ms: 104930\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104930\n  end_ms: 107950\n- text: All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107950\n  end_ms: 110500\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110500\n  end_ms: 112410\n- text: And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112410\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 115000\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me\n  start_ms: 115000\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: '''Cause daddy''s bye-bye'\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 118220\n- text: Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  start_ms: 118220\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 124130\n- text: Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  start_ms: 124130\n  end_ms: 127320\n- text: They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127320\n  end_ms: 130630\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130630\n  end_ms: 133310\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133310\n  end_ms: 136540\n- text: Sacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136540\n  end_ms: 138580\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138580\n  end_ms: 141900\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 141900\n  end_ms: 144480\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em\n  start_ms: 144480\n  end_ms: 145680\n- text: Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  start_ms: 145680\n  end_ms: 149050\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 149050\n  end_ms: 153140\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 153140\n  end_ms: 157290\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157290\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 170790\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 170790\n  end_ms: 176250\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176250\n  end_ms: 178920\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178920\n  end_ms: 182920\n- text: So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 182920\n  end_ms: 185640\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185640\n  end_ms: 189280\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 189280\n  end_ms: 191840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 191840\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196740\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196740\n  end_ms: 200340\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200340\n  end_ms: 202690\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202690\n  end_ms: 205390\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205390\n  end_ms: 208350\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 208350\n  end_ms: 211640\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211640\n  end_ms: 214210\n- text: (Bizzy talking)\n  start_ms: 214210\n  end_ms: 214930\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214930\n  end_ms: 215760\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215760\n  end_ms: 217450\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217450\n  end_ms: 218950\n- text: Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 218950\n  end_ms: 220700\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220700\n  end_ms: 222560\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222560\n  end_ms: 226100\n- text: Where's the mob?\n  start_ms: 226100\n  end_ms: 227090\n- text: Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 227090\n  end_ms: 229360\n- text: Is you ready for jail?\n  start_ms: 229360\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232370\n- text: We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232370\n  end_ms: 234620\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234620\n  end_ms: 237420\n- text: Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  start_ms: 237420\n  end_ms: 240070\n- text: Will he put me in my tomb?\n  start_ms: 240070\n  end_ms: 241460\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241460\n  end_ms: 244240\n- text: Stomped through Compton\n  start_ms: 244240\n  end_ms: 245160\n- text: And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  start_ms: 245160\n  end_ms: 247610\n- text: I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  start_ms: 247610\n  end_ms: 249360\n- text: '\"Murder, murderin'' ya\"'\n  start_ms: 249360\n  end_ms: 250980\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  start_ms: 250980\n  end_ms: 253560\n- text: I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  start_ms: 253560\n  end_ms: 256350\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256350\n  end_ms: 259530\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259530\n  end_ms: 262240\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 262240\n  end_ms: 265200\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265200\n  end_ms: 268380\n- text: One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  start_ms: 268380\n  end_ms: 271940\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271940\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275730\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275730\n  end_ms: 277380\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277380\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: And they got so? if it ain't?\n  start_ms: 279410\n  end_ms: 281360\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  start_ms: 281360\n  end_ms: 283350\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283350\n  end_ms: 284970\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 284970\n  end_ms: 286120\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 286120\n  end_ms: 286960\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 286960\n  end_ms: 289230\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":227839,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War CD2","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n[00:01.63] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.93] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:05.68] Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[00:08.46] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n[00:15.69] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:17.64] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:22.19] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:23.67] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:27.68] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.88] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.70] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n[00:33.73] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.47] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n[00:38.56] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.56] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.31] I see you but you can't see me\n[00:41.64] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.52] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.17] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.31] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:52.05] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.78] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:58.23] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.79] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:07.85] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.06] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.41] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:17.09] Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[01:18.07] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n[01:20.89] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:27.61] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:34.20] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:35.72] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:39.39] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:40.86] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.52] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.93] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.95] All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n[01:50.50] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.41] And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n[01:54.34] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.00] And I hope my mama really loves me\n[01:56.84] 'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.22] Inner pride with the Ripsta\n[01:59.97] Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.11] Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n[02:04.13] Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n[02:07.32] They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.63] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.31] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.54] Sacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.58] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:21.90] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.48] Sell a dream to 'em\n[02:25.68] Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n[02:29.05] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:33.14] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.29] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:42.04] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.91] Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:50.79] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.25] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.92] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:02.92] So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n[03:05.64] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:09.28] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:11.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.58] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.74] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.34] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.69] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.39] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:28.35] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.64] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.21] (Bizzy talking)\n[03:34.93] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.76] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.45] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:38.95] Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n[03:40.70] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.56] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:46.10] Where's the mob?\n[03:47.09] Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.36] Is you ready for jail?\n[03:50.58] Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.37] We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n[03:54.62] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.42] Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n[04:00.07] Will he put me in my tomb?\n[04:01.46] I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n[04:04.24] Stomped through Compton\n[04:05.16] And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n[04:07.61] I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n[04:09.36] \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n[04:10.98] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n[04:13.56] I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n[04:16.35] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.53] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:22.24] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.20] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.38] One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n[04:31.94] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n[04:35.73] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.38] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.41] And they got so? if it ain't?\n[04:41.36] This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n[04:43.35] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:44.97] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:46.12] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:46.96] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:49.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War CD2\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 1630\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1630\n  end_ms: 2930\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2930\n  end_ms: 5680\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 5680\n  end_ms: 8460\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 15690\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 15690\n  end_ms: 17640\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 17640\n  end_ms: 22190\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 22190\n  end_ms: 23670\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 23670\n  end_ms: 27680\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27680\n  end_ms: 29880\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29880\n  end_ms: 31700\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  start_ms: 31700\n  end_ms: 33730\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33730\n  end_ms: 35470\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  start_ms: 35470\n  end_ms: 38560\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38560\n  end_ms: 39560\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39560\n  end_ms: 40310\n- text: I see you but you can't see me\n  start_ms: 40310\n  end_ms: 41640\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41640\n  end_ms: 43520\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43520\n  end_ms: 46170\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46170\n  end_ms: 49310\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49310\n  end_ms: 52050\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 52050\n  end_ms: 53780\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53780\n  end_ms: 58230\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 58230\n  end_ms: 61790\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61790\n  end_ms: 67850\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 67850\n  end_ms: 70060\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70060\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 77090\n- text: Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 77090\n  end_ms: 78070\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n  start_ms: 78070\n  end_ms: 80890\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 80890\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102520\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102520\n  end_ms: 104930\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104930\n  end_ms: 107950\n- text: All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107950\n  end_ms: 110500\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110500\n  end_ms: 112410\n- text: And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112410\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 115000\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me\n  start_ms: 115000\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: '''Cause daddy''s bye-bye'\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 118220\n- text: Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  start_ms: 118220\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 124130\n- text: Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  start_ms: 124130\n  end_ms: 127320\n- text: They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127320\n  end_ms: 130630\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130630\n  end_ms: 133310\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133310\n  end_ms: 136540\n- text: Sacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136540\n  end_ms: 138580\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138580\n  end_ms: 141900\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 141900\n  end_ms: 144480\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em\n  start_ms: 144480\n  end_ms: 145680\n- text: Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  start_ms: 145680\n  end_ms: 149050\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 149050\n  end_ms: 153140\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 153140\n  end_ms: 157290\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157290\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 170790\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 170790\n  end_ms: 176250\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176250\n  end_ms: 178920\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178920\n  end_ms: 182920\n- text: So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 182920\n  end_ms: 185640\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185640\n  end_ms: 189280\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 189280\n  end_ms: 191840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 191840\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196740\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196740\n  end_ms: 200340\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200340\n  end_ms: 202690\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202690\n  end_ms: 205390\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205390\n  end_ms: 208350\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 208350\n  end_ms: 211640\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211640\n  end_ms: 214210\n- text: (Bizzy talking)\n  start_ms: 214210\n  end_ms: 214930\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214930\n  end_ms: 215760\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215760\n  end_ms: 217450\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217450\n  end_ms: 218950\n- text: Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 218950\n  end_ms: 220700\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220700\n  end_ms: 222560\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222560\n  end_ms: 226100\n- text: Where's the mob?\n  start_ms: 226100\n  end_ms: 227090\n- text: Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 227090\n  end_ms: 229360\n- text: Is you ready for jail?\n  start_ms: 229360\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232370\n- text: We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232370\n  end_ms: 234620\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234620\n  end_ms: 237420\n- text: Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  start_ms: 237420\n  end_ms: 240070\n- text: Will he put me in my tomb?\n  start_ms: 240070\n  end_ms: 241460\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241460\n  end_ms: 244240\n- text: Stomped through Compton\n  start_ms: 244240\n  end_ms: 245160\n- text: And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  start_ms: 245160\n  end_ms: 247610\n- text: I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  start_ms: 247610\n  end_ms: 249360\n- text: '\"Murder, murderin'' ya\"'\n  start_ms: 249360\n  end_ms: 250980\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  start_ms: 250980\n  end_ms: 253560\n- text: I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  start_ms: 253560\n  end_ms: 256350\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256350\n  end_ms: 259530\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259530\n  end_ms: 262240\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 262240\n  end_ms: 265200\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265200\n  end_ms: 268380\n- text: One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  start_ms: 268380\n  end_ms: 271940\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271940\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275730\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275730\n  end_ms: 277380\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277380\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: And they got so? if it ain't?\n  start_ms: 279410\n  end_ms: 281360\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  start_ms: 281360\n  end_ms: 283350\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283350\n  end_ms: 284970\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 284970\n  end_ms: 286120\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 286120\n  end_ms: 286960\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 286960\n  end_ms: 289230\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":32894017,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War [Disc 2]","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War [Disc 2]\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":17549305,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War: World War 2","duration":288.6088192,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony\n  album: 'The Art of War: World War 2'\n  duration_ms: 288609\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":14355496,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War (CD2)","duration":288.574694,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony\n  album: The Art of War (CD2)\n  duration_ms: 288575\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":13442007,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War (Disc 2)","duration":288.574694,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War (Disc 2)\n  duration_ms: 288575\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":23839711,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War II","duration":288.6322944,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War II\n  duration_ms: 288632\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":22879199,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War [Disc 02]","duration":288.533333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War [Disc 02]\n  duration_ms: 288533\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":10057877,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art Of War","duration":287.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art Of War\n  duration_ms: 287000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":35236426,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War","duration":71.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs‐n‐Harmony\n  album: The Art of War\n  duration_ms: 71000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":27897858,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War Disc2","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: The Art of War Disc2\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":37466911,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs -N- Harmony","albumName":"Art Of War","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs -N- Harmony\n  album: Art Of War\n  duration_ms: 288744\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":40049017,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-n-Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War [Clean Edit]","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.02] Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n[00:01.63] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.93] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:05.68] Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[00:08.46] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n[00:15.69] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:17.64] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:22.19] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[00:23.67] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[00:27.68] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.88] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.70] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n[00:33.73] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.47] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n[00:38.56] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.56] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.31] I see you but you can't see me\n[00:41.64] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.52] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.17] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.31] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:52.05] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.78] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:58.23] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.79] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:07.85] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.06] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.41] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:17.09] Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n[01:18.07] You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n[01:20.89] I put who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:27.61] Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:34.20] Look who got you, too, who shot you\n[01:35.72] Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n[01:39.39] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:40.86] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.52] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.93] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.95] All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n[01:50.50] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.41] And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n[01:54.34] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.00] And I hope my mama really loves me\n[01:56.84] 'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.22] Inner pride with the Ripsta\n[01:59.97] Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.11] Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n[02:04.13] Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n[02:07.32] They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.63] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.31] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.54] Sacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.58] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:21.90] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.48] Sell a dream to 'em\n[02:25.68] Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n[02:29.05] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:33.14] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.29] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:42.04] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.91] Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:50.79] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.25] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.92] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:02.92] So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n[03:05.64] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:09.28] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:11.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.58] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.74] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.34] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.69] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.39] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:28.35] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.64] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.21] (Bizzy talking)\n[03:34.93] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.76] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.45] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:38.95] Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n[03:40.70] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.56] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:46.10] Where's the mob?\n[03:47.09] Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.36] Is you ready for jail?\n[03:50.58] Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.37] We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n[03:54.62] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.42] Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n[04:00.07] Will he put me in my tomb?\n[04:01.46] I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n[04:04.24] Stomped through Compton\n[04:05.16] And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n[04:07.61] I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n[04:09.36] \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n[04:10.98] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n[04:13.56] I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n[04:16.35] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.53] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:22.24] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.20] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.38] One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n[04:31.94] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n[04:35.73] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.38] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.41] And they got so? if it ain't?\n[04:41.36] This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n[04:43.35] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:44.97] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:46.12] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:46.96] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:49.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-n-Harmony\n  album: The Art of War [Clean Edit]\n  duration_ms: 289200\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  start_ms: 20\n  end_ms: 1630\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1630\n  end_ms: 2930\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2930\n  end_ms: 5680\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 5680\n  end_ms: 8460\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n  start_ms: 8460\n  end_ms: 15690\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 15690\n  end_ms: 17640\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 17640\n  end_ms: 22190\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 22190\n  end_ms: 23670\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 23670\n  end_ms: 27680\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27680\n  end_ms: 29880\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29880\n  end_ms: 31700\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  start_ms: 31700\n  end_ms: 33730\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33730\n  end_ms: 35470\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  start_ms: 35470\n  end_ms: 38560\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38560\n  end_ms: 39560\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39560\n  end_ms: 40310\n- text: I see you but you can't see me\n  start_ms: 40310\n  end_ms: 41640\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41640\n  end_ms: 43520\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43520\n  end_ms: 46170\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46170\n  end_ms: 49310\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49310\n  end_ms: 52050\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 52050\n  end_ms: 53780\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53780\n  end_ms: 58230\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 58230\n  end_ms: 61790\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61790\n  end_ms: 67850\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 67850\n  end_ms: 70060\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70060\n  end_ms: 72410\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72410\n  end_ms: 77090\n- text: Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  start_ms: 77090\n  end_ms: 78070\n- text: You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n  start_ms: 78070\n  end_ms: 80890\n- text: I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 80890\n  end_ms: 87610\n- text: Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 87610\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 102520\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102520\n  end_ms: 104930\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104930\n  end_ms: 107950\n- text: All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107950\n  end_ms: 110500\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110500\n  end_ms: 112410\n- text: And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112410\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 115000\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me\n  start_ms: 115000\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: '''Cause daddy''s bye-bye'\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 118220\n- text: Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  start_ms: 118220\n  end_ms: 119970\n- text: Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 119970\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 124130\n- text: Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  start_ms: 124130\n  end_ms: 127320\n- text: They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127320\n  end_ms: 130630\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130630\n  end_ms: 133310\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133310\n  end_ms: 136540\n- text: Sacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136540\n  end_ms: 138580\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138580\n  end_ms: 141900\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 141900\n  end_ms: 144480\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em\n  start_ms: 144480\n  end_ms: 145680\n- text: Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  start_ms: 145680\n  end_ms: 149050\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 149050\n  end_ms: 153140\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 153140\n  end_ms: 157290\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157290\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 166910\n- text: Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166910\n  end_ms: 170790\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 170790\n  end_ms: 176250\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176250\n  end_ms: 178920\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178920\n  end_ms: 182920\n- text: So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 182920\n  end_ms: 185640\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185640\n  end_ms: 189280\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 189280\n  end_ms: 191840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 191840\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196740\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196740\n  end_ms: 200340\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200340\n  end_ms: 202690\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202690\n  end_ms: 205390\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205390\n  end_ms: 208350\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 208350\n  end_ms: 211640\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211640\n  end_ms: 214210\n- text: (Bizzy talking)\n  start_ms: 214210\n  end_ms: 214930\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214930\n  end_ms: 215760\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215760\n  end_ms: 217450\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217450\n  end_ms: 218950\n- text: Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 218950\n  end_ms: 220700\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220700\n  end_ms: 222560\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222560\n  end_ms: 226100\n- text: Where's the mob?\n  start_ms: 226100\n  end_ms: 227090\n- text: Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 227090\n  end_ms: 229360\n- text: Is you ready for jail?\n  start_ms: 229360\n  end_ms: 230580\n- text: Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 230580\n  end_ms: 232370\n- text: We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232370\n  end_ms: 234620\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234620\n  end_ms: 237420\n- text: Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  start_ms: 237420\n  end_ms: 240070\n- text: Will he put me in my tomb?\n  start_ms: 240070\n  end_ms: 241460\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241460\n  end_ms: 244240\n- text: Stomped through Compton\n  start_ms: 244240\n  end_ms: 245160\n- text: And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  start_ms: 245160\n  end_ms: 247610\n- text: I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  start_ms: 247610\n  end_ms: 249360\n- text: '\"Murder, murderin'' ya\"'\n  start_ms: 249360\n  end_ms: 250980\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  start_ms: 250980\n  end_ms: 253560\n- text: I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  start_ms: 253560\n  end_ms: 256350\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256350\n  end_ms: 259530\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259530\n  end_ms: 262240\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 262240\n  end_ms: 265200\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265200\n  end_ms: 268380\n- text: One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  start_ms: 268380\n  end_ms: 271940\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271940\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275730\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275730\n  end_ms: 277380\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277380\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: And they got so? if it ain't?\n  start_ms: 279410\n  end_ms: 281360\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  start_ms: 281360\n  end_ms: 283350\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283350\n  end_ms: 284970\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 284970\n  end_ms: 286120\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 286120\n  end_ms: 286960\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 286960\n  end_ms: 289230\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 289230\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":31878898,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony & Bizzy Bone","albumName":"The Art of War","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n(Bizzy talking)\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony & Bizzy Bone\n  album: The Art of War\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  (Bizzy talking)\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":32880157,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Majesty","albumName":"The Art Of War (Disc 2)","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nyou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nhave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nlet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony/Majesty\n  album: The Art Of War (Disc 2)\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  you can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)\n"},{"id":12151933,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Majesty","albumName":"The Art of War: World War 2","duration":288.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nyou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nhave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nlet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.25] Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n[00:01.82] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.66] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:04.80] Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n[00:08.29] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[00:12.75] I'm talented\n[00:13.88] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n[00:15.79] I put who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:17.25] Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:21.64] Look who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:23.84] Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:27.54] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.44] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.88] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n[00:33.84] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.12] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n[00:38.57] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.82] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.32] I see you but You can't see me\n[00:41.94] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.46] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.37] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.19] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:51.98] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.82] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:57.72] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.28] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:08.08] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.10] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.21] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:15.66] I'm talented\n[01:16.83] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:21.66] I'm talented\n[01:22.82] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:27.75] I'm talented\n[01:28.95] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:33.78] I'm talented\n[01:34.97] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:39.56] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:41.17] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.86] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.72] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.51] All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n[01:50.45] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.74] And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n[01:54.58] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.15] And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.19] And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.12] Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n[02:04.08] Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n[02:07.33] They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.18] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.16] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.44] Slacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.57] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:22.17] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.46] Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n[02:26.16] No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n[02:28.56] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:32.75] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.36] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:41.52] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.59] Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:49.93] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.35] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.94] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:03.08] So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n[03:05.53] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:08.92] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:10.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.30] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.48] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.37] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.42] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.23] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:27.92] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.51] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.19] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.81] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.43] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:39.07] Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n[03:40.75] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.22] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:44.72] Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.18] Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.29] We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n[03:54.50] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.43] Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n[04:00.06] When he put me in my tomb\n[04:01.26] I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n[04:04.19] Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n[04:06.62] And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n[04:11.08] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n[04:13.18] I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n[04:16.16] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.03] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:21.93] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.54] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.08] One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n[04:31.35] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n[04:35.78] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.33] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.36] And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n[04:41.30] This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n[04:43.37] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:45.09] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:48.61] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, Majesty\n  album: 'The Art of War: World War 2'\n  duration_ms: 288000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n  start_ms: 250\n  end_ms: 1820\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1820\n  end_ms: 2660\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2660\n  end_ms: 4800\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n  start_ms: 4800\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 12750\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 12750\n  end_ms: 13880\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n  start_ms: 13880\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I put who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 17250\n- text: Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 17250\n  end_ms: 21640\n- text: Look who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 21640\n  end_ms: 23840\n- text: Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 23840\n  end_ms: 27540\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27540\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 31880\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n  start_ms: 31880\n  end_ms: 33840\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33840\n  end_ms: 35120\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n  start_ms: 35120\n  end_ms: 38570\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38570\n  end_ms: 39820\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39820\n  end_ms: 40320\n- text: I see you but You can't see me\n  start_ms: 40320\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 43460\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43460\n  end_ms: 46370\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46370\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 51980\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 51980\n  end_ms: 53820\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53820\n  end_ms: 57720\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 57720\n  end_ms: 61280\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61280\n  end_ms: 68080\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 68080\n  end_ms: 70100\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70100\n  end_ms: 72210\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72210\n  end_ms: 75660\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 75660\n  end_ms: 76830\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 76830\n  end_ms: 81660\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 81660\n  end_ms: 82820\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 82820\n  end_ms: 87750\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 87750\n  end_ms: 88950\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 88950\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 94970\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 94970\n  end_ms: 99560\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99560\n  end_ms: 101170\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 101170\n  end_ms: 102860\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102860\n  end_ms: 104720\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104720\n  end_ms: 107510\n- text: All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107510\n  end_ms: 110450\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110450\n  end_ms: 112740\n- text: And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112740\n  end_ms: 114580\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114580\n  end_ms: 115150\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n  start_ms: 115150\n  end_ms: 118190\n- text: And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 118190\n  end_ms: 121120\n- text: Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n  start_ms: 121120\n  end_ms: 124080\n- text: Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n  start_ms: 124080\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 130180\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130180\n  end_ms: 133160\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133160\n  end_ms: 136440\n- text: Slacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136440\n  end_ms: 138570\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138570\n  end_ms: 142170\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 142170\n  end_ms: 144460\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n  start_ms: 144460\n  end_ms: 146160\n- text: No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n  start_ms: 146160\n  end_ms: 148560\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 148560\n  end_ms: 152750\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 152750\n  end_ms: 157360\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157360\n  end_ms: 161520\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 161520\n  end_ms: 166590\n- text: Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166590\n  end_ms: 169930\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 169930\n  end_ms: 176350\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176350\n  end_ms: 178940\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178940\n  end_ms: 183080\n- text: So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 183080\n  end_ms: 185530\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185530\n  end_ms: 188920\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 188920\n  end_ms: 190840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 190840\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196480\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196480\n  end_ms: 200370\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200370\n  end_ms: 202420\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202420\n  end_ms: 205230\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205230\n  end_ms: 207920\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 207920\n  end_ms: 211510\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211510\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 215810\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215810\n  end_ms: 217430\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217430\n  end_ms: 219070\n- text: Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 219070\n  end_ms: 220750\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220750\n  end_ms: 222220\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222220\n  end_ms: 224720\n- text: Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 224720\n  end_ms: 229180\n- text: Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 229180\n  end_ms: 232290\n- text: We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232290\n  end_ms: 234500\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234500\n  end_ms: 237430\n- text: Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n  start_ms: 237430\n  end_ms: 240060\n- text: When he put me in my tomb\n  start_ms: 240060\n  end_ms: 241260\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241260\n  end_ms: 244190\n- text: Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n  start_ms: 244190\n  end_ms: 246620\n- text: And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n  start_ms: 246620\n  end_ms: 251080\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n  start_ms: 251080\n  end_ms: 253180\n- text: I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n  start_ms: 253180\n  end_ms: 256160\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256160\n  end_ms: 259030\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259030\n  end_ms: 261930\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 261930\n  end_ms: 265540\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265540\n  end_ms: 268080\n- text: One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n  start_ms: 268080\n  end_ms: 271350\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271350\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275780\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275780\n  end_ms: 277330\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277330\n  end_ms: 279360\n- text: And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n  start_ms: 279360\n  end_ms: 281300\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n  start_ms: 281300\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285090\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 285090\n  end_ms: 288610\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  you can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)\n"},{"id":29182273,"name":"7 Sign","trackName":"7 Sign","artistName":"Majesty, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War: World War 2","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all You non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\n\nWoo! Yeah, I'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\nI'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n\nI put who got You, too, who shot You\nWho got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\nLook who got You, too, who shot You\nWho got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but You can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\n\nI'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\nI'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\nI'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\nI'm talented\nWhen I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\nAnd I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n\nThree sixty-five, I revolve around trees\nThey'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSlacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em - cash\nNo loyality, grab they royalties and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\nSo when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no corvie - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\nWhen he put me in my tomb\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\nStomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\nAnd listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\nI'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray everybody and gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so hard if it ain't starved\nThis family that don't give a fuck who You are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)?","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.25] Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n[00:01.84] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.62] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:04.83] Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n[00:08.27] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[00:12.75] I'm talented\n[00:13.86] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n[00:15.71] I put who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:17.27] Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:21.61] Look who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:23.80] Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:27.56] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.49] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.87] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n[00:33.82] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.12] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n[00:38.58] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.86] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.35] I see you but You can't see me\n[00:41.97] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.41] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.36] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.18] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:51.96] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.85] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:57.74] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.25] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:04.10] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.18] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.24] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:15.69] I'm talented\n[01:16.84] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:21.68] I'm talented\n[01:22.82] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:27.76] I'm talented\n[01:28.95] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:33.76] I'm talented\n[01:34.93] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:39.56] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:41.13] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.83] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.75] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.51] All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n[01:50.40] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.72] And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n[01:54.53] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.14] And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.10] And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.19] Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n[02:04.08] Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n[02:07.35] They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.11] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.14] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.45] Slacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.56] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:22.10] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.48] Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n[02:26.10] No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n[02:28.50] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:32.77] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.35] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:41.50] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.50] Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:49.93] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.30] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.96] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:03.09] So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n[03:05.57] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:08.99] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:10.85] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.30] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.41] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.39] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.42] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.22] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:27.91] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.53] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.16] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.81] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.43] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:39.03] Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n[03:40.75] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.22] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:44.77] Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.11] Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.20] We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n[03:54.55] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.48] Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n[04:00.09] When he put me in my tomb\n[04:01.26] I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n[04:04.15] Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n[04:06.64] And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n[04:11.05] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n[04:13.15] I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n[04:16.19] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.04] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:21.92] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.57] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.03] One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n[04:31.32] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.44] Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n[04:35.77] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.38] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.30] And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n[04:41.38] This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n[04:43.33] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:45.03] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:47.88] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign\n  artist: Majesty, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony\n  album: 'The Art of War: World War 2'\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n  start_ms: 250\n  end_ms: 1840\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1840\n  end_ms: 2620\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2620\n  end_ms: 4830\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n  start_ms: 4830\n  end_ms: 8270\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 8270\n  end_ms: 12750\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 12750\n  end_ms: 13860\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n  start_ms: 13860\n  end_ms: 15710\n- text: I put who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 15710\n  end_ms: 17270\n- text: Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 17270\n  end_ms: 21610\n- text: Look who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 21610\n  end_ms: 23800\n- text: Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 23800\n  end_ms: 27560\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27560\n  end_ms: 29490\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29490\n  end_ms: 31870\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n  start_ms: 31870\n  end_ms: 33820\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33820\n  end_ms: 35120\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n  start_ms: 35120\n  end_ms: 38580\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38580\n  end_ms: 39860\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39860\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: I see you but You can't see me\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 41970\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41970\n  end_ms: 43410\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43410\n  end_ms: 46360\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46360\n  end_ms: 49180\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49180\n  end_ms: 51960\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 51960\n  end_ms: 53850\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53850\n  end_ms: 57740\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 57740\n  end_ms: 61250\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61250\n  end_ms: 64100\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 64100\n  end_ms: 70180\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70180\n  end_ms: 72240\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72240\n  end_ms: 75690\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 75690\n  end_ms: 76840\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 76840\n  end_ms: 81680\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 81680\n  end_ms: 82820\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 82820\n  end_ms: 87760\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 87760\n  end_ms: 88950\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 88950\n  end_ms: 93760\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 93760\n  end_ms: 94930\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 94930\n  end_ms: 99560\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99560\n  end_ms: 101130\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 101130\n  end_ms: 102830\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102830\n  end_ms: 104750\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104750\n  end_ms: 107510\n- text: All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107510\n  end_ms: 110400\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110400\n  end_ms: 112720\n- text: And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112720\n  end_ms: 114530\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114530\n  end_ms: 115140\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n  start_ms: 115140\n  end_ms: 118100\n- text: And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 118100\n  end_ms: 121190\n- text: Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n  start_ms: 121190\n  end_ms: 124080\n- text: Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n  start_ms: 124080\n  end_ms: 127350\n- text: They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127350\n  end_ms: 130110\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130110\n  end_ms: 133140\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133140\n  end_ms: 136450\n- text: Slacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136450\n  end_ms: 138560\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138560\n  end_ms: 142100\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 142100\n  end_ms: 144480\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n  start_ms: 144480\n  end_ms: 146100\n- text: No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n  start_ms: 146100\n  end_ms: 148500\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 148500\n  end_ms: 152770\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 152770\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 161500\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 161500\n  end_ms: 166500\n- text: Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166500\n  end_ms: 169930\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 169930\n  end_ms: 176300\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176300\n  end_ms: 178960\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178960\n  end_ms: 183090\n- text: So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 183090\n  end_ms: 185570\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185570\n  end_ms: 188990\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 188990\n  end_ms: 190850\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 190850\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196410\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196410\n  end_ms: 200390\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200390\n  end_ms: 202420\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202420\n  end_ms: 205220\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205220\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 211530\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211530\n  end_ms: 214160\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214160\n  end_ms: 215810\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215810\n  end_ms: 217430\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217430\n  end_ms: 219030\n- text: Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 219030\n  end_ms: 220750\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220750\n  end_ms: 222220\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222220\n  end_ms: 224770\n- text: Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 224770\n  end_ms: 229110\n- text: Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 229110\n  end_ms: 232200\n- text: We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232200\n  end_ms: 234550\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234550\n  end_ms: 237480\n- text: Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n  start_ms: 237480\n  end_ms: 240090\n- text: When he put me in my tomb\n  start_ms: 240090\n  end_ms: 241260\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241260\n  end_ms: 244150\n- text: Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n  start_ms: 244150\n  end_ms: 246640\n- text: And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n  start_ms: 246640\n  end_ms: 251050\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n  start_ms: 251050\n  end_ms: 253150\n- text: I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n  start_ms: 253150\n  end_ms: 256190\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256190\n  end_ms: 259040\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259040\n  end_ms: 261920\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 261920\n  end_ms: 265570\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265570\n  end_ms: 268030\n- text: One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n  start_ms: 268030\n  end_ms: 271320\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271320\n  end_ms: 273440\n- text: Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273440\n  end_ms: 275770\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275770\n  end_ms: 277380\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277380\n  end_ms: 279300\n- text: And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n  start_ms: 279300\n  end_ms: 281380\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n  start_ms: 281380\n  end_ms: 283330\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283330\n  end_ms: 285030\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 285030\n  end_ms: 287880\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287880\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n\n  I put who got You, too, who shot You\n  Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  Look who got You, too, who shot You\n  Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but You can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n\n  I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  I'm talented\n  When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n  And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n\n  Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n  They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Slacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n  No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n  When he put me in my tomb\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n  And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n  I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n  This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n"},{"id":7508809,"name":"7 Sign (feat. Majesty)","trackName":"7 Sign (feat. Majesty)","artistName":"Bone Thugs-n-Harmony","albumName":"The Art of War","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, this for all you non-believers\nEspecially out in the C-O\nMan, fuck y'all niggas\nWoo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nNigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\nEven if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\nWanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\nWhat am I yellin'? Murderer\nNigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n(Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\nNigga, not today\nI see you but you can't see me\nI know with all of government and\nYes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\nGot your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\nBlastin' out your steroes or your headphones\nThe roots exploited clones; therefore\nIt's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\nArtistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\nIt's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\nSeven sign, seven, seven sign\nSeven, seventh sign seal\nYeah, now y'all know, yeah\nYeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\nYou can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\nI put who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\nLook who got you, too, who shot you\nWho got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\nThe Rip here to run in the street\nAnd flippin' on police, yeah they know me\nI'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\nAnd at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\nAll bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\nWell, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\nAnd you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\nI'm ready to die\nAnd I hope my mama really loves me\n'Cause daddy's bye-bye\nInner pride with the Ripsta\nLet 'em hit ya with the scripture\nPicture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\nThree sixty-five out of all the round trees\nThey'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\nNigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\nAnd crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\nSacks only in dress pants\nHave you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\nI have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\nSell a dream to 'em\nCash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\nMy overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\nLyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\nPockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\nIt's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\nGrab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\nDon't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\nGot bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\nExplore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\nI had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\nWord sound 'til I'm foamin'\nCybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\nDisownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\nMore than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\nAnd promotions make me more potent\nDeadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\nRe-define lines entertwined with all mankind\nWould that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\nThe boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\nI'm a let a nigga know\nYou know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\nI gives a fuck about no nigga\nDon't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\nI'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\nOff the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\nWhere's the mob?\nFind your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\nIs you ready for jail?\nYes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\nWe can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\nI'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\nBetter look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\nWill he put me in my tomb?\nI've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\nStomped through Compton\nAnd cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\nI bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n\"Murder, murderin' ya\"\nHypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\nI'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\nTrues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\nI shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\nSo I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\nSo piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\nOne nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\nThey took a chance and lost\nLet's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\nDon't finish the wars when they ain't over\nI love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\nAnd they got so? if it ain't?\nThis family that don't give a fuck who you are\nIt ain't nothin' like some trouble\nHow close? How far (how far, how far)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.25] Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n[00:01.82] Especially out in the C-O\n[00:02.66] Man, fuck y'all niggas\n[00:04.80] Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n[00:08.29] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[00:12.75] I'm talented\n[00:13.88] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n[00:15.79] I put who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:17.25] Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:21.64] Look who got You, too, who shot You\n[00:23.84] Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n[00:27.54] Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n[00:29.44] Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n[00:31.88] Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n[00:33.84] What am I yellin'? Murderer\n[00:35.12] Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n[00:38.57] (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n[00:39.82] Nigga, not today\n[00:40.32] I see you but You can't see me\n[00:41.94] I know with all of government and\n[00:43.46] Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n[00:46.37] Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n[00:49.19] Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n[00:51.98] The roots exploited clones; therefore\n[00:53.82] It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n[00:57.72] Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n[01:01.28] It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n[01:08.08] Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n[01:10.10] Seven, seventh sign seal\n[01:12.21] Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n[01:15.66] I'm talented\n[01:16.83] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:21.66] I'm talented\n[01:22.82] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:27.75] I'm talented\n[01:28.95] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:33.78] I'm talented\n[01:34.97] When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n[01:39.56] The Rip here to run in the street\n[01:41.17] And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n[01:42.86] I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n[01:44.72] And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n[01:47.51] All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n[01:50.45] Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n[01:52.74] And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n[01:54.58] I'm ready to die\n[01:55.15] And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n[01:58.19] And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n[02:01.12] Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n[02:04.08] Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n[02:07.33] They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n[02:10.18] Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n[02:13.16] And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n[02:16.44] Slacks only in dress pants\n[02:18.57] Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n[02:22.17] I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n[02:24.46] Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n[02:26.16] No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n[02:28.56] My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n[02:32.75] Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n[02:37.36] Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n[02:41.52] It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n[02:46.59] Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n[02:49.93] Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n[02:56.35] Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n[02:58.94] Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n[03:03.08] So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n[03:05.53] I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n[03:08.92] Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n[03:10.84] Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n[03:13.30] Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n[03:16.48] More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n[03:20.37] And promotions make me more potent\n[03:22.42] Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n[03:25.23] Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n[03:27.92] Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n[03:31.51] The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n[03:34.19] I'm a let a nigga know\n[03:35.81] You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n[03:37.43] I gives a fuck about no nigga\n[03:39.07] Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n[03:40.75] I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n[03:42.22] Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n[03:44.72] Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n[03:49.18] Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n[03:52.29] We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n[03:54.50] I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n[03:57.43] Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n[04:00.06] When he put me in my tomb\n[04:01.26] I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n[04:04.19] Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n[04:06.62] And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n[04:11.08] Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n[04:13.18] I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n[04:16.16] Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n[04:19.03] I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n[04:21.93] So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n[04:25.54] So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n[04:28.08] One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n[04:31.35] They took a chance and lost\n[04:33.49] Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n[04:35.78] Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n[04:37.33] I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n[04:39.36] And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n[04:41.30] This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n[04:43.37] It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n[04:45.09] How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n[04:48.61] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 7 Sign (feat. Majesty)\n  artist: Bone Thugs-n-Harmony\n  album: The Art of War\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah, this for all You non-believers\n  start_ms: 250\n  end_ms: 1820\n- text: Especially out in the C-O\n  start_ms: 1820\n  end_ms: 2660\n- text: Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  start_ms: 2660\n  end_ms: 4800\n- text: Woo! Yeah, I'm talented\n  start_ms: 4800\n  end_ms: 8290\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 8290\n  end_ms: 12750\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 12750\n  end_ms: 13880\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (seven Sign)\n  start_ms: 13880\n  end_ms: 15790\n- text: I put who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 15790\n  end_ms: 17250\n- text: Who got You, Glock You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 17250\n  end_ms: 21640\n- text: Look who got You, too, who shot You\n  start_ms: 21640\n  end_ms: 23840\n- text: Who got You, pop You and stop You (stop You, stop You)\n  start_ms: 23840\n  end_ms: 27540\n- text: Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  start_ms: 27540\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 31880\n- text: Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up seven\n  start_ms: 31880\n  end_ms: 33840\n- text: What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  start_ms: 33840\n  end_ms: 35120\n- text: Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if You\n  start_ms: 35120\n  end_ms: 38570\n- text: (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  start_ms: 38570\n  end_ms: 39820\n- text: Nigga, not today\n  start_ms: 39820\n  end_ms: 40320\n- text: I see you but You can't see me\n  start_ms: 40320\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: I know with all of government and\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 43460\n- text: Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n  start_ms: 43460\n  end_ms: 46370\n- text: Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  start_ms: 46370\n  end_ms: 49190\n- text: Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  start_ms: 49190\n  end_ms: 51980\n- text: The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  start_ms: 51980\n  end_ms: 53820\n- text: It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  start_ms: 53820\n  end_ms: 57720\n- text: Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  start_ms: 57720\n  end_ms: 61280\n- text: It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n  start_ms: 61280\n  end_ms: 68080\n- text: Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  start_ms: 68080\n  end_ms: 70100\n- text: Seven, seventh sign seal\n  start_ms: 70100\n  end_ms: 72210\n- text: Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  start_ms: 72210\n  end_ms: 75660\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 75660\n  end_ms: 76830\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 76830\n  end_ms: 81660\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 81660\n  end_ms: 82820\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 82820\n  end_ms: 87750\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 87750\n  end_ms: 88950\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 88950\n  end_ms: 93780\n- text: I'm talented\n  start_ms: 93780\n  end_ms: 94970\n- text: When I die, You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye)\n  start_ms: 94970\n  end_ms: 99560\n- text: The Rip here to run in the street\n  start_ms: 99560\n  end_ms: 101170\n- text: And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  start_ms: 101170\n  end_ms: 102860\n- text: I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  start_ms: 102860\n  end_ms: 104720\n- text: And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  start_ms: 104720\n  end_ms: 107510\n- text: All bitches, look into it as You want the real killa?\n  start_ms: 107510\n  end_ms: 110450\n- text: Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  start_ms: 110450\n  end_ms: 112740\n- text: And You knew it, do it, when, when You looked in my eyes\n  start_ms: 112740\n  end_ms: 114580\n- text: I'm ready to die\n  start_ms: 114580\n  end_ms: 115150\n- text: And I hope my mama really loves me cause daddy's bye-bye\n  start_ms: 115150\n  end_ms: 118190\n- text: And I riot with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  start_ms: 118190\n  end_ms: 121120\n- text: Picture me loced out and smoked out with a half of fifth of liquor\n  start_ms: 121120\n  end_ms: 124080\n- text: Three sixty-five, I revolve around trees\n  start_ms: 124080\n  end_ms: 127330\n- text: They'll be Japanese Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  start_ms: 127330\n  end_ms: 130180\n- text: Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  start_ms: 130180\n  end_ms: 133160\n- text: And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  start_ms: 133160\n  end_ms: 136440\n- text: Slacks only in dress pants\n  start_ms: 136440\n  end_ms: 138570\n- text: Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  start_ms: 138570\n  end_ms: 142170\n- text: I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  start_ms: 142170\n  end_ms: 144460\n- text: Sell a dream to 'em - cash\n  start_ms: 144460\n  end_ms: 146160\n- text: No loyality, grab they royalties and dash\n  start_ms: 146160\n  end_ms: 148560\n- text: My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  start_ms: 148560\n  end_ms: 152750\n- text: Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  start_ms: 152750\n  end_ms: 157360\n- text: Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  start_ms: 157360\n  end_ms: 161520\n- text: It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  start_ms: 161520\n  end_ms: 166590\n- text: Grab your earlobe and bend, this is big business, buy tapes\n  start_ms: 166590\n  end_ms: 169930\n- text: Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  start_ms: 169930\n  end_ms: 176350\n- text: Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  start_ms: 176350\n  end_ms: 178940\n- text: Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the hook\n  start_ms: 178940\n  end_ms: 183080\n- text: So when You slip, gots it, I ride up on it\n  start_ms: 183080\n  end_ms: 185530\n- text: I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  start_ms: 185530\n  end_ms: 188920\n- text: Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  start_ms: 188920\n  end_ms: 190840\n- text: Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  start_ms: 190840\n  end_ms: 193300\n- text: Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  start_ms: 193300\n  end_ms: 196480\n- text: More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  start_ms: 196480\n  end_ms: 200370\n- text: And promotions make me more potent\n  start_ms: 200370\n  end_ms: 202420\n- text: Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  start_ms: 202420\n  end_ms: 205230\n- text: Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  start_ms: 205230\n  end_ms: 207920\n- text: Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  start_ms: 207920\n  end_ms: 211510\n- text: The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n  start_ms: 211510\n  end_ms: 214190\n- text: I'm a let a nigga know\n  start_ms: 214190\n  end_ms: 215810\n- text: You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  start_ms: 215810\n  end_ms: 217430\n- text: I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  start_ms: 217430\n  end_ms: 219070\n- text: Don't be no corvie - ass nigga\n  start_ms: 219070\n  end_ms: 220750\n- text: I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  start_ms: 220750\n  end_ms: 222220\n- text: Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n  start_ms: 222220\n  end_ms: 224720\n- text: Where's tha mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  start_ms: 224720\n  end_ms: 229180\n- text: Is you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  start_ms: 229180\n  end_ms: 232290\n- text: We can spar, but You'll get drop (drop)\n  start_ms: 232290\n  end_ms: 234500\n- text: I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  start_ms: 234500\n  end_ms: 237430\n- text: Better look out for mom, been doomed since the womb\n  start_ms: 237430\n  end_ms: 240060\n- text: When he put me in my tomb\n  start_ms: 240060\n  end_ms: 241260\n- text: I've been thuggin' so assume when I entered your room, boom\n  start_ms: 241260\n  end_ms: 244190\n- text: Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of\n  start_ms: 244190\n  end_ms: 246620\n- text: And listen I bet there's thousand people screamin' out murder, murder, rip ya\n  start_ms: 246620\n  end_ms: 251080\n- text: Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got alive\n  start_ms: 251080\n  end_ms: 253180\n- text: I'm talented, when I die You can see what's deep in my eyes\n  start_ms: 253180\n  end_ms: 256160\n- text: Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  start_ms: 256160\n  end_ms: 259030\n- text: I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  start_ms: 259030\n  end_ms: 261930\n- text: So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  start_ms: 261930\n  end_ms: 265540\n- text: So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  start_ms: 265540\n  end_ms: 268080\n- text: One nigga got amped and off he in the trap with some\n  start_ms: 268080\n  end_ms: 271350\n- text: They took a chance and lost\n  start_ms: 271350\n  end_ms: 273490\n- text: Let's spray everybody and gangsta gone\n  start_ms: 273490\n  end_ms: 275780\n- text: Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  start_ms: 275780\n  end_ms: 277330\n- text: I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  start_ms: 277330\n  end_ms: 279360\n- text: And they got so hard if it ain't starved\n  start_ms: 279360\n  end_ms: 281300\n- text: This family that don't give a fuck who You are\n  start_ms: 281300\n  end_ms: 283370\n- text: It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  start_ms: 283370\n  end_ms: 285090\n- text: How close? How far (how far, how far)?\n  start_ms: 285090\n  end_ms: 288610\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, this for all you non-believers\n  Especially out in the C-O\n  Man, fuck y'all niggas\n  Woo! Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eye) 7 Sign...\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up\n  Even if I'm under surveillance, I watch out\n  Wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up 7\n  What am I yellin'? Murderer\n  Nigga, once you come you must pay like crazy if you\n  (Muthafucka, don't play me) play me\n  Nigga, not today\n  I see you but you can't see me\n  I know with all of government and\n  Yes, this will get crazy and blow (bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb)\n\n  Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn\n  Blastin' out your steroes or your headphones\n  The roots exploited clones; therefore\n  It's my job to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit\n  Artistic skin abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections\n  It's magnified to new levels of elevation\n\n  Seven sign, seven, seven sign\n  Seven, seventh sign seal\n  Yeah, now y'all know, yeah\n  Yeah, I'm tellin ya when I die\n  You can see what's deep in my eye (my eyes, my eyes)\n\n  I put who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, glock you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n  Look who got you, too, who shot you\n  Who got you, pop you and stop you (stop you, stop you)\n\n  The Rip here to run in the street\n  And flippin' on police, yeah they know me\n  I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears\n  And at least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie\n  All bitches, look into it as you want the real killa?\n  Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot it, shoot it\n  And you knew it, do it, when, when you looked in my eyes\n  I'm ready to die\n  And I hope my mama really loves me\n  'Cause daddy's bye-bye\n  Inner pride with the Ripsta\n  Let 'em hit ya with the scripture\n  Picture me locked out and smoked out with a half of fifth of\n\n  Three sixty-five out of all the round trees\n  They'll be Japanese, Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies\n  Nigga, jump for cheese, catch sub-zero freeze\n  And crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back\n  Sacks only in dress pants\n  Have you ever danced with the devil in pale moonlight?\n  I have, Hollywood niggas make me laugh\n  Sell a dream to 'em\n  Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash\n  My overhead projects how ends meet to foul or ejected\n  Lyrics was selected beyond my control, last door on the totem pole\n  Pockets swoll from tape residue, last interview and went in daytime\n  It's made a promise to let down smooth criminals gently in my business\n  Grab your earlobe and billion, this is big business, buy tapes\n  Don't lend, niggas mad while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me?\n  Got bigger balls to chase waterfalls with Chili\n  Explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over the So when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it\n  I had to maintain my mental frame, and now I'm Boneless\n  Word sound 'til I'm foamin'\n  Cybergenics wanted my genes for clonin'\n  Disownin' heads like Romans fight rebel Trojans\n  More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles\n  And promotions make me more potent\n  Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind\n  Re-define lines entertwined with all mankind\n  Would that rain outshine divine Maje$ty, shame\n  The boogie down punks is where the hearts still remain\n\n  I'm a let a nigga know\n  You know what I'm sayin', just right off the bat\n  I gives a fuck about no nigga\n  Don't be no (corvie) - ass nigga\n  I'm tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip\n  Off the rippa, baby (I must me losin' my mind)\n\n  Where's the mob?\n  Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job\n  Is you ready for jail?\n  Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob\n  We can spar, but you gon' drop (drop)\n  I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop pop\n  Better look out for miles, been doomed since I womb\n  Will he put me in my tomb?\n  I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room, boom\n  Stomped through Compton\n  And cities y'all ain't never heard of and listen\n  I bet there's thousand people screamin' out\n  \"Murder, murderin' ya\"\n  Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a life\n  I'm tatted so when I die you can see what's deep my eyes\n  Trues ride but trues die, my nigga, don't cry\n  I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie\n  So I try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental\n  So piss off my pencil, and I blast, dash in a rental\n  One nigga got out and off he in a trap with sawed-off\n  They took a chance and lost\n  Let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone\n  Don't finish the wars when they ain't over\n  I love you thugs, but all them skeletons got so close\n  And they got so? if it ain't?\n  This family that don't give a fuck who you are\n  It ain't nothin' like some trouble\n  How close? How far (how far, how far)\n"}]