[{"id":12476054,"name":"Slam Pit","trackName":"Slam Pit","artistName":"The Beatnuts, Cuban Link, Common","albumName":"A Musical Massacre","duration":207.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":"[00:04.55] Yo, yo, flipmode is how this nigga roll\n[00:27.71] Finger on the trigger, load\n[00:29.07] Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n[00:31.31] Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n[00:33.63] If you gotta go, you gotta go, that's part of the show\n[00:36.44] My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailing niggas like carpenters\n[00:39.34] Stomp 'em, the hardest squad to spark 'em, from New York to Arkansas\n[00:42.21] Watching the projects how I got my logic\n[00:44.25] Economics is picking pockets, then we split the profit\n[00:46.88] The only shit I pop is what my Glocks spit\n[00:48.73] Watch for the cops as we spark the chocolate\n[00:50.66] 'Cause blocks are hotter than the fucking tropics\n[00:52.65] In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n[00:54.69] My whole squad got blow jobs, smoking Godfather cigars\n[00:57.32] Live large like Scarface, parlay in a far place\n[00:59.96] No car chasing, just watching all the stars in space\n[01:02.57] Safe and sound in my playground with my trey pound\n[01:05.05] Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n[01:07.76] I lay it down for them nonbelievers\n[01:09.51] Them nonachieving niggas that wanna be leaders but can never be this\n[01:12.87] Y'all better greet us if you ever see us\n[01:14.94] T.S., Beatnuts, knuckle up or grab your motherfucking heaters, word up\n[01:21.71] Slamming MC's on cement\n[01:26.17] The Beatnuts\n[01:27.35] Got you froze like gunpoint\n[01:31.12] It's the hard little niggas that's packing\n[01:33.60] It's the control freak, leave you with a hole in your cheek\n[01:36.45] Words attitude and rap, Juice stay in the street\n[01:38.91] I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playing is keeps\n[01:41.47] Your beats cost a lot of money, but they sound real cheap\n[01:44.21] You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n[01:47.06] Fucking with me, you out of your mind, get out of your Jeep\n[01:49.68] You know I'm gon' beat you 'til the police come\n[01:51.89] And tell niggas where the fuck I got that Rollie from\n[01:56.97] Jump in the pit, Beatnuts fucking with the shit\n[02:00.00] Ju hold my gun and the clip as I smoke one and spit\n[02:03.53] Ammo over the piano\n[02:05.51] One man show, you don't understand, bro\n[02:08.51] If you do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n[02:10.48] 'Cause you don't even know the half of the half\n[02:12.90] When I crash on the scene\n[02:14.55] You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats out of Queens\n[02:16.96] So hide your shine, hold your Vic, stop smiling\n[02:19.85] Beatnuts'll never stop wilding, pit fighting, rock wilding\n[02:25.85] Picture a king with heater, holy book, and big rings\n[02:28.88] Real nigga doing big things, interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n[02:32.52] Ain't shit sweet with 16's\n[02:34.13] My guys got the blocks sewn to the inseam\n[02:36.33] I'm on the other side trying to get green\n[02:38.69] So I fast on grass and ash at least a day\n[02:41.33] War with self, I battle the Middle Eastern way\n[02:44.30] Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n[02:46.82] Casted in the role of soul, a new school nigga that knows the old\n[02:49.73] In memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a road\n[02:52.18] Less traveled, you rock but been through less gravel\n[02:54.77] My mystique suggest battle and what have you\n[02:57.35] Rip a nigga from New York to West Coast, Chicago\n[02:59.79] Don't give a fuck where he from, he'll get beat like a drum\n[03:02.63] 'Til his rap goes numb, seeking a hot producer for circulation\n[03:06.67] I strangle his string music and suffocate his drum\n[03:09.46] Wanted to be a star 'til I seen I was the sun\n[03:11.65] Got my weight up like Pun\n[03:13.13] Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n[03:16.15] Nigga, mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n[03:21.64] Slamming MC's on cement\n[03:26.30] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit\n  artist: The Beatnuts, Cuban Link, Common\n  album: A Musical Massacre\n  duration_ms: 207000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, yo, flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  start_ms: 4550\n  end_ms: 27710\n- text: Finger on the trigger, load\n  start_ms: 27710\n  end_ms: 29070\n- text: Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  start_ms: 29070\n  end_ms: 31310\n- text: Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  start_ms: 31310\n  end_ms: 33630\n- text: If you gotta go, you gotta go, that's part of the show\n  start_ms: 33630\n  end_ms: 36440\n- text: My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailing niggas like carpenters\n  start_ms: 36440\n  end_ms: 39340\n- text: Stomp 'em, the hardest squad to spark 'em, from New York to Arkansas\n  start_ms: 39340\n  end_ms: 42210\n- text: Watching the projects how I got my logic\n  start_ms: 42210\n  end_ms: 44250\n- text: Economics is picking pockets, then we split the profit\n  start_ms: 44250\n  end_ms: 46880\n- text: The only shit I pop is what my Glocks spit\n  start_ms: 46880\n  end_ms: 48730\n- text: Watch for the cops as we spark the chocolate\n  start_ms: 48730\n  end_ms: 50660\n- text: '''Cause blocks are hotter than the fucking tropics'\n  start_ms: 50660\n  end_ms: 52650\n- text: In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  start_ms: 52650\n  end_ms: 54690\n- text: My whole squad got blow jobs, smoking Godfather cigars\n  start_ms: 54690\n  end_ms: 57320\n- text: Live large like Scarface, parlay in a far place\n  start_ms: 57320\n  end_ms: 59960\n- text: No car chasing, just watching all the stars in space\n  start_ms: 59960\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Safe and sound in my playground with my trey pound\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65050\n- text: Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  start_ms: 65050\n  end_ms: 67760\n- text: I lay it down for them nonbelievers\n  start_ms: 67760\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: Them nonachieving niggas that wanna be leaders but can never be this\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 72870\n- text: Y'all better greet us if you ever see us\n  start_ms: 72870\n  end_ms: 74940\n- text: T.S., Beatnuts, knuckle up or grab your motherfucking heaters, word up\n  start_ms: 74940\n  end_ms: 81710\n- text: Slamming MC's on cement\n  start_ms: 81710\n  end_ms: 86170\n- text: The Beatnuts\n  start_ms: 86170\n  end_ms: 87350\n- text: Got you froze like gunpoint\n  start_ms: 87350\n  end_ms: 91120\n- text: It's the hard little niggas that's packing\n  start_ms: 91120\n  end_ms: 93600\n- text: It's the control freak, leave you with a hole in your cheek\n  start_ms: 93600\n  end_ms: 96450\n- text: Words attitude and rap, Juice stay in the street\n  start_ms: 96450\n  end_ms: 98910\n- text: I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playing is keeps\n  start_ms: 98910\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: Your beats cost a lot of money, but they sound real cheap\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104210\n- text: You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  start_ms: 104210\n  end_ms: 107060\n- text: Fucking with me, you out of your mind, get out of your Jeep\n  start_ms: 107060\n  end_ms: 109680\n- text: You know I'm gon' beat you 'til the police come\n  start_ms: 109680\n  end_ms: 111890\n- text: And tell niggas where the fuck I got that Rollie from\n  start_ms: 111890\n  end_ms: 116970\n- text: Jump in the pit, Beatnuts fucking with the shit\n  start_ms: 116970\n  end_ms: 120000\n- text: Ju hold my gun and the clip as I smoke one and spit\n  start_ms: 120000\n  end_ms: 123530\n- text: Ammo over the piano\n  start_ms: 123530\n  end_ms: 125510\n- text: One man show, you don't understand, bro\n  start_ms: 125510\n  end_ms: 128510\n- text: If you do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  start_ms: 128510\n  end_ms: 130480\n- text: '''Cause you don''t even know the half of the half'\n  start_ms: 130480\n  end_ms: 132900\n- text: When I crash on the scene\n  start_ms: 132900\n  end_ms: 134550\n- text: You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats out of Queens\n  start_ms: 134550\n  end_ms: 136960\n- text: So hide your shine, hold your Vic, stop smiling\n  start_ms: 136960\n  end_ms: 139850\n- text: Beatnuts'll never stop wilding, pit fighting, rock wilding\n  start_ms: 139850\n  end_ms: 145850\n- text: Picture a king with heater, holy book, and big rings\n  start_ms: 145850\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: Real nigga doing big things, interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152520\n- text: Ain't shit sweet with 16's\n  start_ms: 152520\n  end_ms: 154130\n- text: My guys got the blocks sewn to the inseam\n  start_ms: 154130\n  end_ms: 156330\n- text: I'm on the other side trying to get green\n  start_ms: 156330\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: So I fast on grass and ash at least a day\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161330\n- text: War with self, I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  start_ms: 161330\n  end_ms: 164300\n- text: Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  start_ms: 164300\n  end_ms: 166820\n- text: Casted in the role of soul, a new school nigga that knows the old\n  start_ms: 166820\n  end_ms: 169730\n- text: In memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a road\n  start_ms: 169730\n  end_ms: 172180\n- text: Less traveled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  start_ms: 172180\n  end_ms: 174770\n- text: My mystique suggest battle and what have you\n  start_ms: 174770\n  end_ms: 177350\n- text: Rip a nigga from New York to West Coast, Chicago\n  start_ms: 177350\n  end_ms: 179790\n- text: Don't give a fuck where he from, he'll get beat like a drum\n  start_ms: 179790\n  end_ms: 182630\n- text: '''Til his rap goes numb, seeking a hot producer for circulation'\n  start_ms: 182630\n  end_ms: 186670\n- text: I strangle his string music and suffocate his drum\n  start_ms: 186670\n  end_ms: 189460\n- text: Wanted to be a star 'til I seen I was the sun\n  start_ms: 189460\n  end_ms: 191650\n- text: Got my weight up like Pun\n  start_ms: 191650\n  end_ms: 193130\n- text: Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  start_ms: 193130\n  end_ms: 196150\n- text: Nigga, mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n  start_ms: 196150\n  end_ms: 201640\n- text: Slamming MC's on cement\n  start_ms: 201640\n  end_ms: 206300\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"},{"id":3589705,"name":"Slam Pit","trackName":"Slam Pit","artistName":"The Beatnuts feat. Cuban Link & Common","albumName":"A Musical Massacre","duration":207.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*Gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit\n  artist: The Beatnuts feat. Cuban Link & Common\n  album: A Musical Massacre\n  duration_ms: 207000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *Gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"},{"id":31343443,"name":"Slam Pit (feat Cuban Link and","trackName":"Slam Pit (feat Cuban Link and","artistName":"The Beatnuts","albumName":"A Musical Massacre","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit (feat Cuban Link and\n  artist: The Beatnuts\n  album: A Musical Massacre\n  duration_ms: 206000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"},{"id":17656924,"name":"Slam Pit [ft. Cuban Link & Common]","trackName":"Slam Pit [ft. Cuban Link & Common]","artistName":"Beatnuts, The","albumName":"A Musical Massacre","duration":206.506667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit [ft. Cuban Link & Common]\n  artist: Beatnuts, The\n  album: A Musical Massacre\n  duration_ms: 206507\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"},{"id":20461133,"name":"Slam Pit Featuring Cuban Link And Common (Explicit Version)","trackName":"Slam Pit Featuring Cuban Link And Common (Explicit Version)","artistName":"The Beatnuts","albumName":"A Musical Massacre (Explicit)","duration":206.506667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit Featuring Cuban Link And Common (Explicit Version)\n  artist: The Beatnuts\n  album: A Musical Massacre (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 206507\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"},{"id":36339208,"name":"Slam Pit featuring Cuban Link and Common (Explicit Version)","trackName":"Slam Pit featuring Cuban Link and Common (Explicit Version)","artistName":"The Beatnuts","albumName":"A Musical Massacre","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n(\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\nMarlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\nMarlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\nI DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n*gunshots and screams*\n\n\"I Links with the Cuban\"\n\"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\nYo flipmode is how this nigga roll\nFinger on the trigger low\nQuick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\nLock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\nIf you gotta go, you gotta go\nThat's part of the show\nMy heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\nStalkin the hardest squadrons\nSpark them from New York to Arkansas\nWatchin the projects how I got my logic\nEconomics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\nThe only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\nWatch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\nCuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\nIn topless bars, college girls with no bras\nMy whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\nLive large like Scarface\nParlay in a far place\nNo car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\nSafe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\nGot eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\nI lay it down for them non-believers\nThem non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\nYa'll better greet us if you ever see us\nTS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n\"The Beats and Nuts\"\n\"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n\"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\nIt's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\nWorst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\nI gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\nYou beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\nYou sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\nFuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\nKnow I'm gonna beat you till the police come\nAnd tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\nJump in the Pit\nBeatnuts fuckin up shit\nJu hold my gun and the clip\nAs I smoke one and spit\nAmmo over the piano\nFor a man's show, you don't understand bro!\nYou do, don't make me laugh at your ass\nCuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\nWhen I crash on the scene\nYou know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\nSo hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\nBeatnuts will never stop wildin\nPit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n\"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\nPicture a king\nWit heater, holy book, and big rings\nReal niggas doin big things\nInterpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\nAin't shit Sweet but Sixteens\nMy gods got the block sewn to the inseem\nI'm on the other side tryin to get green\nSo I fast at grass and ass at least a day\nWar with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\nBring heat like the months that's east of May\nCasted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\nG memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\nLess Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\nMy mystique suggest battle, and what have you\nRip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\nDon't give a fuck where he from\nHe'll get beat like a drum\nTill this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\nI strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\nWanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\nGot my weight up like Pun\nImprovise to get ass, emphasize to get past\nFuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n\"Slammin MC's on cement\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Slam Pit featuring Cuban Link and Common (Explicit Version)\n  artist: The Beatnuts\n  album: A Musical Massacre\n  duration_ms: 206000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Marlon: \"Yo it's, yo B\"\n  (\"Chill chill Marlon, chill\")\n  Marlon: \"Nah, yo, it's... I don't know this nigga B\" (\"Chill Marlon\")\n  Marlon: \"Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!\n  I DON'T KNOW YOU SON! HOLD UP HOLD UP!\"\n\n  *gunshots and screams*\n\n  \"I Links with the Cuban\"\n  \"I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill\" [Cuban Link]\n\n  Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll\n  Finger on the trigger low\n  Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold\n  Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls\n  If you gotta go, you gotta go\n  That's part of the show\n  My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters\n  Stalkin the hardest squadrons\n  Spark them from New York to Arkansas\n  Watchin the projects how I got my logic\n  Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit\n  The only shit I pop is when my Glock spit\n  Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate\n  Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics\n  In topless bars, college girls with no bras\n  My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars\n  Live large like Scarface\n  Parlay in a far place\n  No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space\n  Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound\n  Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around\n  I lay it down for them non-believers\n  Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us\n  Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us\n  TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\" [Nas]\n  \"The Beats and Nuts\"\n  \"Got you froze like gunpoint\" [Psycho Les]\n  \"It's the hard little pistol packin\" [JuJu]\n\n  It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek\n  Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets\n  I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps\n  You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap\n  You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep\n  Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!\n  Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come\n  And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)\n\n  Jump in the Pit\n  Beatnuts fuckin up shit\n  Ju hold my gun and the clip\n  As I smoke one and spit\n  Ammo over the piano\n  For a man's show, you don't understand bro!\n  You do, don't make me laugh at your ass\n  Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!\n  When I crash on the scene\n  You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens\n  So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling\n  Beatnuts will never stop wildin\n  Pit Fighting and rockwilding!\n\n  \"Common Sense gonna tell ya!\"\n\n  Picture a king\n  Wit heater, holy book, and big rings\n  Real niggas doin big things\n  Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam\n  Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens\n  My gods got the block sewn to the inseem\n  I'm on the other side tryin to get green\n  So I fast at grass and ass at least a day\n  War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way\n  Bring heat like the months that's east of May\n  Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old\n  G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road\n  Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel\n  My mystique suggest battle, and what have you\n  Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago\n  Don't give a fuck where he from\n  He'll get beat like a drum\n  Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation\n  I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum\n  Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun\n  Got my weight up like Pun\n  Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past\n  Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash\n\n  \"Slammin MC's on cement\"\n"}]