[{"id":32063959,"name":"Let The Horns Blow","trackName":"Let The Horns Blow","artistName":"Chi-Ali","albumName":"The Fabulous Chi-Ali","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, one for your mother, two for your pops\n\nThree's for the niggas that's tryin' to kill the cops\nSo bust it, the Black Sheep are here\nPut the corner on the copy or E-S-O\nYes, I guess they're back and watch the track and roll\nIn transition, a pubic hair in Kessin\nI tell your mama I love you if you thought my style was missin'\n\nNot Snoopy, groupie, Casper or Punky\nYou're rollin' with dreads, the Black\nSheep guy says my breath is freakin' funky\nI know you wanna test me\nBut, but, but please don't try to sub me\n\n'Cause way before you ever get to snuff me\n\nBeretta to the head and yo, you better be on your jet ski\nI never could be the ruler but like Rick I say I'm slick\nYou're just a backwards kid, excuse me, I meant to say a dick\nSo now you got beef and broccoli, your ribs are cockaly\nBut we got style, we keep eighteen or yet two-nine\nSo let the horns blow 'cause you know that you're just a barkin' dog\n\nBark all along, Prince Snow or Frog\nDon't play post because we both know you're cowards\n\nI be the drama so watch the Wonderama\nCatch a dipstick sweeter when I call her mamacita\nNot a lover, a fighter, no need for lovin' me\nSee, didn't like the Brady Bunch, for many years I had a hunch\nLivin' like the Givens, big thanks for big banks\nI'm stickin' like a dish swash fish when I shanks\n\nMaximum is maximized, minimum is none\nYou wanna shoot the breeze, please pass the keys to Biggie's gun\nNot the vigilante, I'm walkin' with a stamp\nWanna hit the yes I can can and never say I can't\nI wear the Neil diamonds and fucks what Simon says\n\nHeck the freak the fat so I cut some of my dreads\nBut back again they come just a little sooner\nTo become one nation under the groove\n\nOh, I feel the Clinton soothin' me like Lipton tea\nAnd it's definitely under the groove\nI'm feelin' kinda hyper like my man Lonnie Piper\nRainin' with the raps so hit the window wiper\nTallyho brothers, go once on my cypher\nDon't babysit the bottle or I hit you with the viper\nNever took a smoke, I don't even own a lighter\nIf it's any pipe I'm lightin', it's the pipe that goes inside of her\nCheck the B-L-I-Y, Mr. That's Alright\nA break time from the rhyme 'cause now I'm actin' out of sight-a\n\nYeah, it's B-Nuts and Phash\nIt's the Beatnuts, yo, check it out\n\nSnort up a key, yo, better sex in Rio\nBashin' Jew unless I make a third of the trio\nFeel it P, feel it Phife, feel it Poe, feel it Funk\nI smell props, hit 'em hard and then I come\nLove to eat her skin but first I inspect it\nNot a criminal, man, no, don't gotta wreck it, go and check it\nOr you can get ate up, pass me a plate of\nA little seafood I find up on a ring of data\n\nSo never start a track without B-Nuts on the list\nBrothers buck shots point blank and still miss\nMillie miss, Millie miss, why would I ever diss?\n\nFellas who fight for peace and fight for it with fists\nAyo, hug your bear, do your manage and do your damage\nI'd let you tell the story but first give you a bandage\n'Cause you could go for miles and miles and miles\nAnd talk more trash than the dog doodle piles\nIn a kennel and I say when'll or when he stop\nBut let me see your girl and better believe the drawers'll drop\n'Cause gettin' freaky a B-Nuts thing that is\nSo let the horns blow 'cause that's what time it is\n\nYes, now here it is, it's the one\nPhife Dawg from the Tribe Called Quest\nAnd I give a shouts out to my son DJ Phife Jr\nAnd my girl Diane and I reckon like this\n\nYo, talkie talkie diamond, guess who's next?\n\nThe five-footer assassin with the microphone check\nI'm all that and more 'cause there never was calm\nPlay Mr. Bad and you shall get stomped\nI had a head full of hair but I kept all my rhymes\nA brother from Queens and yo, I always gets mine\nNo shorts are bein' taken, no, not this year\nThe Phife Dawg is here so you better beware\nConceited? I guess it's somethin' like that\n'Cause God don't make no junk so I know I ain't wack\n\nSo relax and chill, sit your booty still\n\nOr just take the loss like the Buffalo Bills\n\nPut one up for the Phifer, long time since you heard that\nSuckers run around talkin' 'bout they can burn that\n\nSoft MC, he can't be talkin' to me\n'Cause I'm far from a wuss and I never was a puss\nI grab the mic, MCs start to get petrol\n'Cause there's no MC like Phife, like no soup like Progresso\nOver your back, now give no slack, see what I'm sayin', son?\nThere's more that is here than bein' short, dark and handsome\nMessin' with my lady, you know that that's a no-no\nWhy? Because you can't mess with my yo-yo\nYou know that I'm the one, you know that I'm the boss\n\nI'm in there (Like a god) nah, like Prego sauce\n\nWell it's me, T-L-E, and I'm last to spark\nYo, everywhere I go I gets bought by NARC\nAnd TNT just can't understand\nTo see a brother with gear, a beeper and in his pocket a grand\nBut enough of that, let me break it down\nWe are all black brothers on a quest, yes, we do have soul\nSome of us are hoin', some are on the positive roll\nMe, I'm hoin', on the mic I'm flowin'\n\nWith the tongue and we are constantly goin'\nNow when I'm in a battle, I just be havin' fun\nThe competition be so scared that they be whiter than Pum\nNow you heard me flow to a nice tempo so\nSo let the horns blow","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Let The Horns Blow\n  artist: Chi-Ali\n  album: The Fabulous Chi-Ali\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, one for your mother, two for your pops\n\n  Three's for the niggas that's tryin' to kill the cops\n  So bust it, the Black Sheep are here\n  Put the corner on the copy or E-S-O\n  Yes, I guess they're back and watch the track and roll\n  In transition, a pubic hair in Kessin\n  I tell your mama I love you if you thought my style was missin'\n\n  Not Snoopy, groupie, Casper or Punky\n  You're rollin' with dreads, the Black\n  Sheep guy says my breath is freakin' funky\n  I know you wanna test me\n  But, but, but please don't try to sub me\n\n  'Cause way before you ever get to snuff me\n\n  Beretta to the head and yo, you better be on your jet ski\n  I never could be the ruler but like Rick I say I'm slick\n  You're just a backwards kid, excuse me, I meant to say a dick\n  So now you got beef and broccoli, your ribs are cockaly\n  But we got style, we keep eighteen or yet two-nine\n  So let the horns blow 'cause you know that you're just a barkin' dog\n\n  Bark all along, Prince Snow or Frog\n  Don't play post because we both know you're cowards\n\n  I be the drama so watch the Wonderama\n  Catch a dipstick sweeter when I call her mamacita\n  Not a lover, a fighter, no need for lovin' me\n  See, didn't like the Brady Bunch, for many years I had a hunch\n  Livin' like the Givens, big thanks for big banks\n  I'm stickin' like a dish swash fish when I shanks\n\n  Maximum is maximized, minimum is none\n  You wanna shoot the breeze, please pass the keys to Biggie's gun\n  Not the vigilante, I'm walkin' with a stamp\n  Wanna hit the yes I can can and never say I can't\n  I wear the Neil diamonds and fucks what Simon says\n\n  Heck the freak the fat so I cut some of my dreads\n  But back again they come just a little sooner\n  To become one nation under the groove\n\n  Oh, I feel the Clinton soothin' me like Lipton tea\n  And it's definitely under the groove\n  I'm feelin' kinda hyper like my man Lonnie Piper\n  Rainin' with the raps so hit the window wiper\n  Tallyho brothers, go once on my cypher\n  Don't babysit the bottle or I hit you with the viper\n  Never took a smoke, I don't even own a lighter\n  If it's any pipe I'm lightin', it's the pipe that goes inside of her\n  Check the B-L-I-Y, Mr. That's Alright\n  A break time from the rhyme 'cause now I'm actin' out of sight-a\n\n  Yeah, it's B-Nuts and Phash\n  It's the Beatnuts, yo, check it out\n\n  Snort up a key, yo, better sex in Rio\n  Bashin' Jew unless I make a third of the trio\n  Feel it P, feel it Phife, feel it Poe, feel it Funk\n  I smell props, hit 'em hard and then I come\n  Love to eat her skin but first I inspect it\n  Not a criminal, man, no, don't gotta wreck it, go and check it\n  Or you can get ate up, pass me a plate of\n  A little seafood I find up on a ring of data\n\n  So never start a track without B-Nuts on the list\n  Brothers buck shots point blank and still miss\n  Millie miss, Millie miss, why would I ever diss?\n\n  Fellas who fight for peace and fight for it with fists\n  Ayo, hug your bear, do your manage and do your damage\n  I'd let you tell the story but first give you a bandage\n  'Cause you could go for miles and miles and miles\n  And talk more trash than the dog doodle piles\n  In a kennel and I say when'll or when he stop\n  But let me see your girl and better believe the drawers'll drop\n  'Cause gettin' freaky a B-Nuts thing that is\n  So let the horns blow 'cause that's what time it is\n\n  Yes, now here it is, it's the one\n  Phife Dawg from the Tribe Called Quest\n  And I give a shouts out to my son DJ Phife Jr\n  And my girl Diane and I reckon like this\n\n  Yo, talkie talkie diamond, guess who's next?\n\n  The five-footer assassin with the microphone check\n  I'm all that and more 'cause there never was calm\n  Play Mr. Bad and you shall get stomped\n  I had a head full of hair but I kept all my rhymes\n  A brother from Queens and yo, I always gets mine\n  No shorts are bein' taken, no, not this year\n  The Phife Dawg is here so you better beware\n  Conceited? I guess it's somethin' like that\n  'Cause God don't make no junk so I know I ain't wack\n\n  So relax and chill, sit your booty still\n\n  Or just take the loss like the Buffalo Bills\n\n  Put one up for the Phifer, long time since you heard that\n  Suckers run around talkin' 'bout they can burn that\n\n  Soft MC, he can't be talkin' to me\n  'Cause I'm far from a wuss and I never was a puss\n  I grab the mic, MCs start to get petrol\n  'Cause there's no MC like Phife, like no soup like Progresso\n  Over your back, now give no slack, see what I'm sayin', son?\n  There's more that is here than bein' short, dark and handsome\n  Messin' with my lady, you know that that's a no-no\n  Why? Because you can't mess with my yo-yo\n  You know that I'm the one, you know that I'm the boss\n\n  I'm in there (Like a god) nah, like Prego sauce\n\n  Well it's me, T-L-E, and I'm last to spark\n  Yo, everywhere I go I gets bought by NARC\n  And TNT just can't understand\n  To see a brother with gear, a beeper and in his pocket a grand\n  But enough of that, let me break it down\n  We are all black brothers on a quest, yes, we do have soul\n  Some of us are hoin', some are on the positive roll\n  Me, I'm hoin', on the mic I'm flowin'\n\n  With the tongue and we are constantly goin'\n  Now when I'm in a battle, I just be havin' fun\n  The competition be so scared that they be whiter than Pum\n  Now you heard me flow to a nice tempo so\n  So let the horns blow\n"},{"id":39009926,"name":"Let the Horns Blow","trackName":"Let the Horns Blow","artistName":"Chi-Ali","albumName":"Hip-Hop Golden Age, Vol. 4 (The Greatest Songs of the 90's) [The Streetbangerz Presents]","duration":329.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, one for your mother, two for your pops\n\nThree's for the niggas that's tryin' to kill the cops\nSo bust it, the Black Sheep are here\nPut the corner on the copy or E-S-O\nYes, I guess they're back and watch the track and roll\nIn transition, a pubic hair in Kessin\nI tell your mama I love you if you thought my style was missin'\n\nNot Snoopy, groupie, Casper or Punky\nYou're rollin' with dreads, the Black\nSheep guy says my breath is freakin' funky\nI know you wanna test me\nBut, but, but please don't try to sub me\n\n'Cause way before you ever get to snuff me\n\nBeretta to the head and yo, you better be on your jet ski\nI never could be the ruler but like Rick I say I'm slick\nYou're just a backwards kid, excuse me, I meant to say a dick\nSo now you got beef and broccoli, your ribs are cockaly\nBut we got style, we keep eighteen or yet two-nine\nSo let the horns blow 'cause you know that you're just a barkin' dog\n\nBark all along, Prince Snow or Frog\nDon't play post because we both know you're cowards\n\nI be the drama so watch the Wonderama\nCatch a dipstick sweeter when I call her mamacita\nNot a lover, a fighter, no need for lovin' me\nSee, didn't like the Brady Bunch, for many years I had a hunch\nLivin' like the Givens, big thanks for big banks\nI'm stickin' like a dish swash fish when I shanks\n\nMaximum is maximized, minimum is none\nYou wanna shoot the breeze, please pass the keys to Biggie's gun\nNot the vigilante, I'm walkin' with a stamp\nWanna hit the yes I can can and never say I can't\nI wear the Neil diamonds and fucks what Simon says\n\nHeck the freak the fat so I cut some of my dreads\nBut back again they come just a little sooner\nTo become one nation under the groove\n\nOh, I feel the Clinton soothin' me like Lipton tea\nAnd it's definitely under the groove\nI'm feelin' kinda hyper like my man Lonnie Piper\nRainin' with the raps so hit the window wiper\nTallyho brothers, go once on my cypher\nDon't babysit the bottle or I hit you with the viper\nNever took a smoke, I don't even own a lighter\nIf it's any pipe I'm lightin', it's the pipe that goes inside of her\nCheck the B-L-I-Y, Mr. That's Alright\nA break time from the rhyme 'cause now I'm actin' out of sight-a\n\nYeah, it's B-Nuts and Phash\nIt's the Beatnuts, yo, check it out\n\nSnort up a key, yo, better sex in Rio\nBashin' Jew unless I make a third of the trio\nFeel it P, feel it Phife, feel it Poe, feel it Funk\nI smell props, hit 'em hard and then I come\nLove to eat her skin but first I inspect it\nNot a criminal, man, no, don't gotta wreck it, go and check it\nOr you can get ate up, pass me a plate of\nA little seafood I find up on a ring of data\n\nSo never start a track without B-Nuts on the list\nBrothers buck shots point blank and still miss\nMillie miss, Millie miss, why would I ever diss?\n\nFellas who fight for peace and fight for it with fists\nAyo, hug your bear, do your manage and do your damage\nI'd let you tell the story but first give you a bandage\n'Cause you could go for miles and miles and miles\nAnd talk more trash than the dog doodle piles\nIn a kennel and I say when'll or when he stop\nBut let me see your girl and better believe the drawers'll drop\n'Cause gettin' freaky a B-Nuts thing that is\nSo let the horns blow 'cause that's what time it is\n\nYes, now here it is, it's the one\nPhife Dawg from the Tribe Called Quest\nAnd I give a shouts out to my son DJ Phife Jr\nAnd my girl Diane and I reckon like this\n\nYo, talkie talkie diamond, guess who's next?\n\nThe five-footer assassin with the microphone check\nI'm all that and more 'cause there never was calm\nPlay Mr. Bad and you shall get stomped\nI had a head full of hair but I kept all my rhymes\nA brother from Queens and yo, I always gets mine\nNo shorts are bein' taken, no, not this year\nThe Phife Dawg is here so you better beware\nConceited? I guess it's somethin' like that\n'Cause God don't make no junk so I know I ain't wack\n\nSo relax and chill, sit your booty still\n\nOr just take the loss like the Buffalo Bills\n\nPut one up for the Phifer, long time since you heard that\nSuckers run around talkin' 'bout they can burn that\n\nSoft MC, he can't be talkin' to me\n'Cause I'm far from a wuss and I never was a puss\nI grab the mic, MCs start to get petrol\n'Cause there's no MC like Phife, like no soup like Progresso\nOver your back, now give no slack, see what I'm sayin', son?\nThere's more that is here than bein' short, dark and handsome\nMessin' with my lady, you know that that's a no-no\nWhy? Because you can't mess with my yo-yo\nYou know that I'm the one, you know that I'm the boss\n\nI'm in there (Like a god) nah, like Prego sauce\n\nWell it's me, T-L-E, and I'm last to spark\nYo, everywhere I go I gets bought by NARC\nAnd TNT just can't understand\nTo see a brother with gear, a beeper and in his pocket a grand\nBut enough of that, let me break it down\nWe are all black brothers on a quest, yes, we do have soul\nSome of us are hoin', some are on the positive roll\nMe, I'm hoin', on the mic I'm flowin'\n\nWith the tongue and we are constantly goin'\nNow when I'm in a battle, I just be havin' fun\nThe competition be so scared that they be whiter than Pum\nNow you heard me flow to a nice tempo so\nSo let the horns blow","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Let the Horns Blow\n  artist: Chi-Ali\n  album: Hip-Hop Golden Age, Vol. 4 (The Greatest Songs of the 90's) [The Streetbangerz Presents]\n  duration_ms: 329000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, one for your mother, two for your pops\n\n  Three's for the niggas that's tryin' to kill the cops\n  So bust it, the Black Sheep are here\n  Put the corner on the copy or E-S-O\n  Yes, I guess they're back and watch the track and roll\n  In transition, a pubic hair in Kessin\n  I tell your mama I love you if you thought my style was missin'\n\n  Not Snoopy, groupie, Casper or Punky\n  You're rollin' with dreads, the Black\n  Sheep guy says my breath is freakin' funky\n  I know you wanna test me\n  But, but, but please don't try to sub me\n\n  'Cause way before you ever get to snuff me\n\n  Beretta to the head and yo, you better be on your jet ski\n  I never could be the ruler but like Rick I say I'm slick\n  You're just a backwards kid, excuse me, I meant to say a dick\n  So now you got beef and broccoli, your ribs are cockaly\n  But we got style, we keep eighteen or yet two-nine\n  So let the horns blow 'cause you know that you're just a barkin' dog\n\n  Bark all along, Prince Snow or Frog\n  Don't play post because we both know you're cowards\n\n  I be the drama so watch the Wonderama\n  Catch a dipstick sweeter when I call her mamacita\n  Not a lover, a fighter, no need for lovin' me\n  See, didn't like the Brady Bunch, for many years I had a hunch\n  Livin' like the Givens, big thanks for big banks\n  I'm stickin' like a dish swash fish when I shanks\n\n  Maximum is maximized, minimum is none\n  You wanna shoot the breeze, please pass the keys to Biggie's gun\n  Not the vigilante, I'm walkin' with a stamp\n  Wanna hit the yes I can can and never say I can't\n  I wear the Neil diamonds and fucks what Simon says\n\n  Heck the freak the fat so I cut some of my dreads\n  But back again they come just a little sooner\n  To become one nation under the groove\n\n  Oh, I feel the Clinton soothin' me like Lipton tea\n  And it's definitely under the groove\n  I'm feelin' kinda hyper like my man Lonnie Piper\n  Rainin' with the raps so hit the window wiper\n  Tallyho brothers, go once on my cypher\n  Don't babysit the bottle or I hit you with the viper\n  Never took a smoke, I don't even own a lighter\n  If it's any pipe I'm lightin', it's the pipe that goes inside of her\n  Check the B-L-I-Y, Mr. That's Alright\n  A break time from the rhyme 'cause now I'm actin' out of sight-a\n\n  Yeah, it's B-Nuts and Phash\n  It's the Beatnuts, yo, check it out\n\n  Snort up a key, yo, better sex in Rio\n  Bashin' Jew unless I make a third of the trio\n  Feel it P, feel it Phife, feel it Poe, feel it Funk\n  I smell props, hit 'em hard and then I come\n  Love to eat her skin but first I inspect it\n  Not a criminal, man, no, don't gotta wreck it, go and check it\n  Or you can get ate up, pass me a plate of\n  A little seafood I find up on a ring of data\n\n  So never start a track without B-Nuts on the list\n  Brothers buck shots point blank and still miss\n  Millie miss, Millie miss, why would I ever diss?\n\n  Fellas who fight for peace and fight for it with fists\n  Ayo, hug your bear, do your manage and do your damage\n  I'd let you tell the story but first give you a bandage\n  'Cause you could go for miles and miles and miles\n  And talk more trash than the dog doodle piles\n  In a kennel and I say when'll or when he stop\n  But let me see your girl and better believe the drawers'll drop\n  'Cause gettin' freaky a B-Nuts thing that is\n  So let the horns blow 'cause that's what time it is\n\n  Yes, now here it is, it's the one\n  Phife Dawg from the Tribe Called Quest\n  And I give a shouts out to my son DJ Phife Jr\n  And my girl Diane and I reckon like this\n\n  Yo, talkie talkie diamond, guess who's next?\n\n  The five-footer assassin with the microphone check\n  I'm all that and more 'cause there never was calm\n  Play Mr. Bad and you shall get stomped\n  I had a head full of hair but I kept all my rhymes\n  A brother from Queens and yo, I always gets mine\n  No shorts are bein' taken, no, not this year\n  The Phife Dawg is here so you better beware\n  Conceited? I guess it's somethin' like that\n  'Cause God don't make no junk so I know I ain't wack\n\n  So relax and chill, sit your booty still\n\n  Or just take the loss like the Buffalo Bills\n\n  Put one up for the Phifer, long time since you heard that\n  Suckers run around talkin' 'bout they can burn that\n\n  Soft MC, he can't be talkin' to me\n  'Cause I'm far from a wuss and I never was a puss\n  I grab the mic, MCs start to get petrol\n  'Cause there's no MC like Phife, like no soup like Progresso\n  Over your back, now give no slack, see what I'm sayin', son?\n  There's more that is here than bein' short, dark and handsome\n  Messin' with my lady, you know that that's a no-no\n  Why? Because you can't mess with my yo-yo\n  You know that I'm the one, you know that I'm the boss\n\n  I'm in there (Like a god) nah, like Prego sauce\n\n  Well it's me, T-L-E, and I'm last to spark\n  Yo, everywhere I go I gets bought by NARC\n  And TNT just can't understand\n  To see a brother with gear, a beeper and in his pocket a grand\n  But enough of that, let me break it down\n  We are all black brothers on a quest, yes, we do have soul\n  Some of us are hoin', some are on the positive roll\n  Me, I'm hoin', on the mic I'm flowin'\n\n  With the tongue and we are constantly goin'\n  Now when I'm in a battle, I just be havin' fun\n  The competition be so scared that they be whiter than Pum\n  Now you heard me flow to a nice tempo so\n  So let the horns blow\n"}]