[{"id":4353704,"name":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":159.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"CunninLynguists\n\nTitle track from Southernnderground read more\n\nMy oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation - Andre 3000\n\nWe're back for another round, southernunderground\nWe ain't following that traditional cookie-cutter sound\nThose that act like punks, treat 'em like trunks and shut-em-down\nRiding sound waves without sails, oars, or rudders now\n\nOther clowns suck worse than funnel clouds\nOne verse and your lungs are drowned with much dirt and rubble now\nI've come to Earth to hunt em down, spit linguistics, pick up bitches\nJizz on big tits and get your mistress to do my dishes\n\nCannibalistic, intangible mechanical misfit\nScandalous dipshit who's beats are too clean\nSo I'm back with some dirty tracks that were dubbed and played\nThrough an 8-Track and my grandma's hearing aid\n\nI'm afraid, though, we rap for food, we're still hungry\nIn cyphers eatin' up every muh'fuckah amongst me\nPeople try to axe stupid and stumped (HOT!)\nSo much proof in me that I'm drunk and stumbling\n\nMmmmmumblin' some thuggin' shit is not a sin to me\nBut doesn't hip-hop need a little positivity?\nIt's all guns and slangin' caine\nWe need some upliftment in the streets, somebody call David Blaine\n\nFuck positivity. I'll bang David Blaine's favorite dame\nMake her say my name and hog her hedge like a SEGA game\nStay insane, take her chain to sell on Ebay for change\nAnd use the money for weed to ease her labor pains\n\nI'm offended!\n\nWhy? Cause she's pregnant and smoking weed?\n\nNo, cus he let her toke for free, that's not how its supposed to be\nBut fuck it, you can find me at home lonely\nPraying to my Eminem shrine holding a rosary\n\nI can battle rappers for cash or sell trees\nBut I feel like Will High, cause I just wanna drop an LP\nRespect when it drops,\nIf not I'll make your girl put her breath on my cock\nBy tellin' her it tastes like peppermint schnapps\n\nAnd after doing the grown-up, sit with her in soap suds\nRoll up, some wack distribution and smoke BUDS\nFor fuckin' with my paper, getting me hype as a coke rush\nIt's Cunninlynguists bitch, loving this since Cold Crush\n\nY'all ain't ready\n\nHey, Hey we're back. We're back. Yeah! Yeah!\nOh, man. Not again\nOh Shit\nOh, for god's sake, don't screw this up","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 159000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n CunninLynguists\n\n Title track from Southernnderground read more\n\n My oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation - Andre 3000\n\n We're back for another round, southernunderground\n We ain't following that traditional cookie-cutter sound\n Those that act like punks, treat 'em like trunks and shut-em-down\n Riding sound waves without sails, oars, or rudders now\n\n Other clowns suck worse than funnel clouds\n One verse and your lungs are drowned with much dirt and rubble now\n I've come to Earth to hunt em down, spit linguistics, pick up bitches\n Jizz on big tits and get your mistress to do my dishes\n\n Cannibalistic, intangible mechanical misfit\n Scandalous dipshit who's beats are too clean\n So I'm back with some dirty tracks that were dubbed and played\n Through an 8-Track and my grandma's hearing aid\n\n I'm afraid, though, we rap for food, we're still hungry\n In cyphers eatin' up every muh'fuckah amongst me\n People try to axe stupid and stumped (HOT!)\n So much proof in me that I'm drunk and stumbling\n\n Mmmmmumblin' some thuggin' shit is not a sin to me\n But doesn't hip-hop need a little positivity?\n It's all guns and slangin' caine\n We need some upliftment in the streets, somebody call David Blaine\n\n Fuck positivity. I'll bang David Blaine's favorite dame\n Make her say my name and hog her hedge like a SEGA game\n Stay insane, take her chain to sell on Ebay for change\n And use the money for weed to ease her labor pains\n\n I'm offended!\n\n Why? Cause she's pregnant and smoking weed?\n\n No, cus he let her toke for free, that's not how its supposed to be\n But fuck it, you can find me at home lonely\n Praying to my Eminem shrine holding a rosary\n\n I can battle rappers for cash or sell trees\n But I feel like Will High, cause I just wanna drop an LP\n Respect when it drops,\n If not I'll make your girl put her breath on my cock\n By tellin' her it tastes like peppermint schnapps\n\n And after doing the grown-up, sit with her in soap suds\n Roll up, some wack distribution and smoke BUDS\n For fuckin' with my paper, getting me hype as a coke rush\n It's Cunninlynguists bitch, loving this since Cold Crush\n\n Y'all ain't ready\n\n Hey, Hey we're back. We're back. Yeah! Yeah!\n Oh, man. Not again\n Oh Shit\n Oh, for god's sake, don't screw this up\n"},{"id":31235062,"name":"Southernunderground","trackName":"Southernunderground","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":159.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"CunninLynguists\n\nTitle track from Southernnderground read more\n\nMy oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation - Andre 3000\n\nWe're back for another round, southernunderground\nWe ain't following that traditional cookie-cutter sound\nThose that act like punks, treat 'em like trunks and shut-em-down\nRiding sound waves without sails, oars, or rudders now\n\nOther clowns suck worse than funnel clouds\nOne verse and your lungs are drowned with much dirt and rubble now\nI've come to Earth to hunt em down, spit linguistics, pick up bitches\nJizz on big tits and get your mistress to do my dishes\n\nCannibalistic, intangible mechanical misfit\nScandalous dipshit who's beats are too clean\nSo I'm back with some dirty tracks that were dubbed and played\nThrough an 8-Track and my grandma's hearing aid\n\nI'm afraid, though, we rap for food, we're still hungry\nIn cyphers eatin' up every muh'fuckah amongst me\nPeople try to axe stupid and stumped (HOT!)\nSo much proof in me that I'm drunk and stumbling\n\nMmmmmumblin' some thuggin' shit is not a sin to me\nBut doesn't hip-hop need a little positivity?\nIt's all guns and slangin' caine\nWe need some upliftment in the streets, somebody call David Blaine\n\nFuck positivity. I'll bang David Blaine's favorite dame\nMake her say my name and hog her hedge like a SEGA game\nStay insane, take her chain to sell on Ebay for change\nAnd use the money for weed to ease her labor pains\n\nI'm offended!\n\nWhy? Cause she's pregnant and smoking weed?\n\nNo, cus he let her toke for free, that's not how its supposed to be\nBut fuck it, you can find me at home lonely\nPraying to my Eminem shrine holding a rosary\n\nI can battle rappers for cash or sell trees\nBut I feel like Will High, cause I just wanna drop an LP\nRespect when it drops,\nif not I'll make your girl put her breath on my cock\nBy tellin' her it tastes like peppermint schnapps\n\nAnd after doing the grown-up, sit with her in soap suds\nRoll up, some wack distribution and smoke BUDS\nFor fuckin' with my paper, getting me hype as a coke rush\nIt's Cunninlynguists bitch, loving this since Cold Crush\n\nY'all ain't ready\n\nHey, Hey we're back. We're back. Yeah! Yeah!\nOh, man. Not again\nOh Shit\nOh, for god's sake, don't screw this up","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Southernunderground\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 159000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n CunninLynguists\n\n Title track from Southernnderground read more\n\n My oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation - Andre 3000\n\n We're back for another round, southernunderground\n We ain't following that traditional cookie-cutter sound\n Those that act like punks, treat 'em like trunks and shut-em-down\n Riding sound waves without sails, oars, or rudders now\n\n Other clowns suck worse than funnel clouds\n One verse and your lungs are drowned with much dirt and rubble now\n I've come to Earth to hunt em down, spit linguistics, pick up bitches\n Jizz on big tits and get your mistress to do my dishes\n\n Cannibalistic, intangible mechanical misfit\n Scandalous dipshit who's beats are too clean\n So I'm back with some dirty tracks that were dubbed and played\n Through an 8-Track and my grandma's hearing aid\n\n I'm afraid, though, we rap for food, we're still hungry\n In cyphers eatin' up every muh'fuckah amongst me\n People try to axe stupid and stumped (HOT!)\n So much proof in me that I'm drunk and stumbling\n\n Mmmmmumblin' some thuggin' shit is not a sin to me\n But doesn't hip-hop need a little positivity?\n It's all guns and slangin' caine\n We need some upliftment in the streets, somebody call David Blaine\n\n Fuck positivity. I'll bang David Blaine's favorite dame\n Make her say my name and hog her hedge like a SEGA game\n Stay insane, take her chain to sell on Ebay for change\n And use the money for weed to ease her labor pains\n\n I'm offended!\n\n Why? Cause she's pregnant and smoking weed?\n\n No, cus he let her toke for free, that's not how its supposed to be\n But fuck it, you can find me at home lonely\n Praying to my Eminem shrine holding a rosary\n\n I can battle rappers for cash or sell trees\n But I feel like Will High, cause I just wanna drop an LP\n Respect when it drops,\n if not I'll make your girl put her breath on my cock\n By tellin' her it tastes like peppermint schnapps\n\n And after doing the grown-up, sit with her in soap suds\n Roll up, some wack distribution and smoke BUDS\n For fuckin' with my paper, getting me hype as a coke rush\n It's Cunninlynguists bitch, loving this since Cold Crush\n\n Y'all ain't ready\n\n Hey, Hey we're back. We're back. Yeah! Yeah!\n Oh, man. Not again\n Oh Shit\n Oh, for god's sake, don't screw this up\n"},{"id":7515022,"name":"Rain [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Rain [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":194.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Mr. SOS]\nThe saddest thing I ever learned is relationships don't last\nOr maybe I just feel that way cause of my past\nBad memories get to me when I drink mad Hennessey\nFeeling cold and alone even when I got mad friends with me\nI'll still see something that reminds me of her\nI got so used to her that without her my mind is a blur\nShe found somebody quick. I won't find another for a while\nShe was about to be my wife and mother of my child\nIt's crazy how you can have your life arranged\nAnd the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\nLike everything's changed and suddenly you don't trust her just the same\nThen you find out some other man's been fuckin out her brains\nThat's when your heart starts to feel the pain\nSo much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\nThat's when you Literally go insane\nAnd you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n\nWise Men say, \"It looks like rain today\"\nCrackled on the speakers\nTrickle down the sleepy subway train\n\nI'll never understand how a girl can say she loves a man\nAnd turn around and have sex with another man\nI would have much rather been robbed for a hundred grand\nThan to get interrupted and get a call that she's touching hands\nWith another man. Oh God! Another man!\nI can't even cry. My tears been dry. That's why it's thundering\nHard out tonight and it's dark and it's cold\nCause the angels can hear me cry, and it's all in my soul\nAnd all of them know I've never felt this pain in my past\nAnd it's ironic the first place we made love's the same as the last\nIn the shower ... that's why I put the rain with her name\nAnd my power to trust someone again has faded away\nOther girls want me? Tell em it looks like rain today\nI wallow in my sorrow, smoke, and watch tapes that we made\nAnd one of them tapes is the day I got played like games in arcades\nThe day I almost gave up everything that I gained\nIt's crazy how you can have your life arranged\nAnd the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\nLike everything's changed and suddenly it's on tape and you crumble\nCause you notice on the tape she doesn't kiss you, she just fucks you\nThat's when your heart starts to feel the pain\nSo much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\nThat's when you Literally go insane\nAnd you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.75] Mr. SOS]\n[00:07.23] The saddest thing I ever learned is relationships don't last\n[00:26.18] Or maybe I just feel that way cause of my past\n[00:28.94] Bad memories get to me when I drink mad Hennessey\n[00:31.69] Feeling cold and alone even when I got mad friends with me\n[00:34.32] I'll still see something that reminds me of her\n[00:37.04] I got so used to her that without her my mind is a blur\n[00:39.79] She found somebody quick. I won't find another for a while\n[00:42.45] She was about to be my wife and mother of my child\n[00:45.13] It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n[00:46.93] And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n[00:49.68] Like everything's changed and suddenly you don't trust her just the same\n[00:54.15] Then you find out some other man's been fuckin out her brains\n[00:55.95] That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n[00:57.77] So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n[01:00.42] That's when you Literally go insane\n[01:03.21] And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n[01:06.81] Wise Men say, \"It looks like rain today\"\n[01:24.04] Crackled on the speakers\n[01:24.96] Trickle down the sleepy subway train\n[01:33.92] I'll never understand how a girl can say she loves a man\n[01:41.22] And turn around and have sex with another man\n[01:43.93] I would have much rather been robbed for a hundred grand\n[01:46.61] Than to get interrupted and get a call that she's touching hands\n[01:49.37] With another man. Oh God! Another man!\n[01:52.02] I can't even cry. My tears been dry. That's why it's thundering\n[01:54.73] Hard out tonight and it's dark and it's cold\n[01:56.53] Cause the angels can hear me cry, and it's all in my soul\n[01:59.38] And all of them know I've never felt this pain in my past\n[02:02.05] And it's ironic the first place we made love's the same as the last\n[02:04.79] In the shower ... that's why I put the rain with her name\n[02:07.44] And my power to trust someone again has faded away\n[02:10.19] Other girls want me? Tell em it looks like rain today\n[02:12.87] I wallow in my sorrow, smoke, and watch tapes that we made\n[02:15.58] And one of them tapes is the day I got played like games in arcades\n[02:18.28] The day I almost gave up everything that I gained\n[02:21.00] It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n[02:22.83] And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n[02:25.57] Like everything's changed and suddenly it's on tape and you crumble\n[02:29.16] Cause you notice on the tape she doesn't kiss you, she just fucks you\n[02:31.87] That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n[02:33.62] So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n[02:37.34] That's when you Literally go insane\n[02:39.12] And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n[02:42.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Rain [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 194000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Mr. SOS]\n start_ms: 1750\n end_ms: 7230\n- text: The saddest thing I ever learned is relationships don't last\n start_ms: 7230\n end_ms: 26180\n- text: Or maybe I just feel that way cause of my past\n start_ms: 26180\n end_ms: 28940\n- text: Bad memories get to me when I drink mad Hennessey\n start_ms: 28940\n end_ms: 31690\n- text: Feeling cold and alone even when I got mad friends with me\n start_ms: 31690\n end_ms: 34320\n- text: I'll still see something that reminds me of her\n start_ms: 34320\n end_ms: 37040\n- text: I got so used to her that without her my mind is a blur\n start_ms: 37040\n end_ms: 39790\n- text: She found somebody quick. I won't find another for a while\n start_ms: 39790\n end_ms: 42450\n- text: She was about to be my wife and mother of my child\n start_ms: 42450\n end_ms: 45130\n- text: It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n start_ms: 45130\n end_ms: 46930\n- text: And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n start_ms: 46930\n end_ms: 49680\n- text: Like everything's changed and suddenly you don't trust her just the same\n start_ms: 49680\n end_ms: 54150\n- text: Then you find out some other man's been fuckin out her brains\n start_ms: 54150\n end_ms: 55950\n- text: That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n start_ms: 55950\n end_ms: 57770\n- text: So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n start_ms: 57770\n end_ms: 60420\n- text: That's when you Literally go insane\n start_ms: 60420\n end_ms: 63210\n- text: And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n start_ms: 63210\n end_ms: 66810\n- text: Wise Men say, \"It looks like rain today\"\n start_ms: 66810\n end_ms: 84040\n- text: Crackled on the speakers\n start_ms: 84040\n end_ms: 84960\n- text: Trickle down the sleepy subway train\n start_ms: 84960\n end_ms: 93920\n- text: I'll never understand how a girl can say she loves a man\n start_ms: 93920\n end_ms: 101220\n- text: And turn around and have sex with another man\n start_ms: 101220\n end_ms: 103930\n- text: I would have much rather been robbed for a hundred grand\n start_ms: 103930\n end_ms: 106610\n- text: Than to get interrupted and get a call that she's touching hands\n start_ms: 106610\n end_ms: 109370\n- text: With another man. Oh God! Another man!\n start_ms: 109370\n end_ms: 112020\n- text: I can't even cry. My tears been dry. That's why it's thundering\n start_ms: 112020\n end_ms: 114730\n- text: Hard out tonight and it's dark and it's cold\n start_ms: 114730\n end_ms: 116530\n- text: Cause the angels can hear me cry, and it's all in my soul\n start_ms: 116530\n end_ms: 119380\n- text: And all of them know I've never felt this pain in my past\n start_ms: 119380\n end_ms: 122050\n- text: And it's ironic the first place we made love's the same as the last\n start_ms: 122050\n end_ms: 124790\n- text: In the shower ... that's why I put the rain with her name\n start_ms: 124790\n end_ms: 127440\n- text: And my power to trust someone again has faded away\n start_ms: 127440\n end_ms: 130190\n- text: Other girls want me? Tell em it looks like rain today\n start_ms: 130190\n end_ms: 132870\n- text: I wallow in my sorrow, smoke, and watch tapes that we made\n start_ms: 132870\n end_ms: 135580\n- text: And one of them tapes is the day I got played like games in arcades\n start_ms: 135580\n end_ms: 138280\n- text: The day I almost gave up everything that I gained\n start_ms: 138280\n end_ms: 141000\n- text: It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n start_ms: 141000\n end_ms: 142830\n- text: And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n start_ms: 142830\n end_ms: 145570\n- text: Like everything's changed and suddenly it's on tape and you crumble\n start_ms: 145570\n end_ms: 149160\n- text: Cause you notice on the tape she doesn't kiss you, she just fucks you\n start_ms: 149160\n end_ms: 151870\n- text: That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n start_ms: 151870\n end_ms: 153620\n- text: So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n start_ms: 153620\n end_ms: 157340\n- text: That's when you Literally go insane\n start_ms: 157340\n end_ms: 159120\n- text: And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n start_ms: 159120\n end_ms: 162770\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 162770\nplain: |-\n Mr. SOS]\n The saddest thing I ever learned is relationships don't last\n Or maybe I just feel that way cause of my past\n Bad memories get to me when I drink mad Hennessey\n Feeling cold and alone even when I got mad friends with me\n I'll still see something that reminds me of her\n I got so used to her that without her my mind is a blur\n She found somebody quick. I won't find another for a while\n She was about to be my wife and mother of my child\n It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n Like everything's changed and suddenly you don't trust her just the same\n Then you find out some other man's been fuckin out her brains\n That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n That's when you Literally go insane\n And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n\n Wise Men say, \"It looks like rain today\"\n Crackled on the speakers\n Trickle down the sleepy subway train\n\n I'll never understand how a girl can say she loves a man\n And turn around and have sex with another man\n I would have much rather been robbed for a hundred grand\n Than to get interrupted and get a call that she's touching hands\n With another man. Oh God! Another man!\n I can't even cry. My tears been dry. That's why it's thundering\n Hard out tonight and it's dark and it's cold\n Cause the angels can hear me cry, and it's all in my soul\n And all of them know I've never felt this pain in my past\n And it's ironic the first place we made love's the same as the last\n In the shower ... that's why I put the rain with her name\n And my power to trust someone again has faded away\n Other girls want me? Tell em it looks like rain today\n I wallow in my sorrow, smoke, and watch tapes that we made\n And one of them tapes is the day I got played like games in arcades\n The day I almost gave up everything that I gained\n It's crazy how you can have your life arranged\n And the day you get engaged you notice she's acting strange\n Like everything's changed and suddenly it's on tape and you crumble\n Cause you notice on the tape she doesn't kiss you, she just fucks you\n That's when your heart starts to feel the pain\n So much that you can feel it in your veins and you can't forget her name\n That's when you Literally go insane\n And you feel like you're so sad you make it rain and then a song plays that says\n"},{"id":7511658,"name":"Karma [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Karma [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":181.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n\n{Deacon tha Villan}\nWhat do I really want in this stage of my life\nI'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\nI'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\nStruggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\nTime's are strange, I claim to be the man\nLike I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n\nBut I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n\nCookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\nTrue, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\nShut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\nThe world ain't all money, suckas and violence\nQuit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\nShit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\nThat's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\nIt's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\nLife's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\nCause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\nGet bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\nButts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\nWishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sings my song\nCause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n\nI try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\nScared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\nBut I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\nHanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\nStrangled by pride, suffocated by lies\nShowin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n\nMissin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\nUsing her death to instill strength inside of vibes\nI don't want old things I done to boomerang\nFeelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\nIt get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\nCause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\nAnd go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\nAn un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\nActing insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\nKnowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\nBut I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\nFame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\nWalking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\nNot knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sings my song\nCause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n\nKarma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.66] Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n[00:18.06] {Deacon tha Villan}\n[00:19.90] What do I really want in this stage of my life\n[00:22.52] I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n[00:25.28] I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n[00:27.98] Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n[00:29.76] Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n[00:32.53] Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n[00:35.23] But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n[00:37.94] Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n[00:40.67] True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n[00:42.45] Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n[00:45.29] The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n[00:47.98] Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n[00:50.63] Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n[00:52.46] That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n[00:56.00] It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n[00:57.87] Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n[01:02.48] Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n[01:03.31] Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n[01:05.17] Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n[01:07.81] Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n[01:09.65] You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n[01:14.25] But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n[01:16.95] And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[01:20.58] You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n[01:24.27] Before she sings my song\n[01:26.94] Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n[01:30.57] I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n[01:33.27] Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n[01:35.98] But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n[01:38.63] Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n[01:40.43] Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n[01:43.28] Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n[01:45.96] Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n[01:48.72] Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n[01:51.47] I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n[01:53.22] Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n[01:55.96] It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n[01:58.60] Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n[02:01.47] And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n[02:02.33] An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n[02:05.96] Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n[02:08.66] Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n[02:11.31] But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n[02:13.19] Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n[02:15.93] Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n[02:18.63] Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n[02:21.37] You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n[02:24.02] But I just keep choosin' wrong\n[02:27.63] And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[02:30.45] You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n[02:34.94] Before she sings my song\n[02:37.69] Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[02:45.89] Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n[02:53.99] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Karma [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 181000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n start_ms: 2660\n end_ms: 18060\n- text: '{Deacon tha Villan}'\n start_ms: 18060\n end_ms: 19900\n- text: What do I really want in this stage of my life\n start_ms: 19900\n end_ms: 22520\n- text: I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n start_ms: 22520\n end_ms: 25280\n- text: I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n start_ms: 25280\n end_ms: 27980\n- text: Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n start_ms: 27980\n end_ms: 29760\n- text: Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n start_ms: 29760\n end_ms: 32530\n- text: Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n start_ms: 32530\n end_ms: 35230\n- text: But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n start_ms: 35230\n end_ms: 37940\n- text: Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n start_ms: 37940\n end_ms: 40670\n- text: True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n start_ms: 40670\n end_ms: 42450\n- text: Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n start_ms: 42450\n end_ms: 45290\n- text: The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n start_ms: 45290\n end_ms: 47980\n- text: Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n start_ms: 47980\n end_ms: 50630\n- text: Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n start_ms: 50630\n end_ms: 52460\n- text: That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n start_ms: 52460\n end_ms: 56000\n- text: It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n start_ms: 56000\n end_ms: 57870\n- text: Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n start_ms: 57870\n end_ms: 62480\n- text: Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n start_ms: 62480\n end_ms: 63310\n- text: Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n start_ms: 63310\n end_ms: 65170\n- text: Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n start_ms: 65170\n end_ms: 67810\n- text: Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n start_ms: 67810\n end_ms: 69650\n- text: You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n start_ms: 69650\n end_ms: 74250\n- text: But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n start_ms: 74250\n end_ms: 76950\n- text: And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 76950\n end_ms: 80580\n- text: You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n start_ms: 80580\n end_ms: 84270\n- text: Before she sings my song\n start_ms: 84270\n end_ms: 86940\n- text: Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n start_ms: 86940\n end_ms: 90570\n- text: I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n start_ms: 90570\n end_ms: 93270\n- text: Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n start_ms: 93270\n end_ms: 95980\n- text: But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n start_ms: 95980\n end_ms: 98630\n- text: Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n start_ms: 98630\n end_ms: 100430\n- text: Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n start_ms: 100430\n end_ms: 103280\n- text: Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n start_ms: 103280\n end_ms: 105960\n- text: Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n start_ms: 105960\n end_ms: 108720\n- text: Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n start_ms: 108720\n end_ms: 111470\n- text: I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n start_ms: 111470\n end_ms: 113220\n- text: Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n start_ms: 113220\n end_ms: 115960\n- text: It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n start_ms: 115960\n end_ms: 118600\n- text: Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n start_ms: 118600\n end_ms: 121470\n- text: And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n start_ms: 121470\n end_ms: 122330\n- text: An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n start_ms: 122330\n end_ms: 125960\n- text: Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n start_ms: 125960\n end_ms: 128660\n- text: Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n start_ms: 128660\n end_ms: 131310\n- text: But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n start_ms: 131310\n end_ms: 133190\n- text: Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n start_ms: 133190\n end_ms: 135930\n- text: Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n start_ms: 135930\n end_ms: 138630\n- text: Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n start_ms: 138630\n end_ms: 141370\n- text: You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n start_ms: 141370\n end_ms: 144020\n- text: But I just keep choosin' wrong\n start_ms: 144020\n end_ms: 147630\n- text: And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 147630\n end_ms: 150450\n- text: You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n start_ms: 150450\n end_ms: 154940\n- text: Before she sings my song\n start_ms: 154940\n end_ms: 157690\n- text: Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 157690\n end_ms: 165890\n- text: Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n start_ms: 165890\n end_ms: 173990\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 173990\nplain: |-\n Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n\n {Deacon tha Villan}\n What do I really want in this stage of my life\n I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n\n But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n\n Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sings my song\n Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n\n I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n\n Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sings my song\n Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n\n Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n"},{"id":4354163,"name":"War [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"War [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":219.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"War! War!\nThere's a war goin' on outside, no man is safe from (repeated & scratched)\n(War is a continuation of politics by other means, the purpose of war is to\ninsert a political agenda...)\nKarma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\nWhat do I really want in this stage of my life\nI'd like a beautiful shelby that'll praise me right\nI'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\nStruggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\nTime's are strange, I claim to be the man\nLike I know G-d can understand his ingenius plan\nBut I'm just a simple Joe, livin low, avoiding conflict\nCookin food for stereos, so feed your CD-rom this\nTrue, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\nShut up shit-talkers and made want to-be thugs huddle\nThe world ain't all money, suckas and violence\nQuit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\nShit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\nThat's why niggaz drink and stress for cigars to roll\nIt's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\nLife's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you want in this diss dance\nCause we really fragle but thinkin' we tough\nGet bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\nButs back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\nWishin' a meal and G-d would multiply this bread now\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sinks my song\nCause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\nI try to help out my fellow man sometimes get yellow-hands\nScared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\nBut I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\nHanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\nStrangled by pride, suffocated by lies\nShowin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\nMissin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\nUsing her death to instill strength inside of vibes\nI don't want old things I done to boomerang\nFeelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\nIt get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\nCause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\nAnd go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\nAn un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\nActing insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\nKnowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\nBut I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\nFame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\nWalking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\nNot knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sinks my song\nCause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\nKarma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: War [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 219000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n War! War!\n There's a war goin' on outside, no man is safe from (repeated & scratched)\n (War is a continuation of politics by other means, the purpose of war is to\n insert a political agenda...)\n Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n What do I really want in this stage of my life\n I'd like a beautiful shelby that'll praise me right\n I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n Like I know G-d can understand his ingenius plan\n But I'm just a simple Joe, livin low, avoiding conflict\n Cookin food for stereos, so feed your CD-rom this\n True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n Shut up shit-talkers and made want to-be thugs huddle\n The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n That's why niggaz drink and stress for cigars to roll\n It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you want in this diss dance\n Cause we really fragle but thinkin' we tough\n Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n Buts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n Wishin' a meal and G-d would multiply this bread now\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sinks my song\n Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n I try to help out my fellow man sometimes get yellow-hands\n Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sinks my song\n Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n"},{"id":7724031,"name":"Dying Nation [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Dying Nation [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":218.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"There's an old saying in Tennesse, I know it's in Texas, it's probably in Tennesse\nThat says fool me once... shame on... shame on you.\nIf you fool me you can't fool me again.\n\nI live in a nation that relies on business and crime\nAnd the leaders are politician guys livin' a lie\nWho bullshit like everyone else for a nickel and dime\nAmerica ... just as corrupt as it is online\nUsing freedom and entertainment just to keep us sedated\nBut remember what the declaration of independence stated?\nAll men are equal and that's the way they're created?\nBut when that was written, black and white people were segregated\nAnd this country still breeds racism, just not as blatant\nTo call us the land of the free is overstatement\nCause ain't NOBODY free. We all being watched quietly\nNational security's an invasion of privacy\nDrug Trafficking, conspiracy, murder and piracy\nWhat America can't have they take silently\nSometimes violently, open up your eyes and see\nEven dirty money is supporting our economy\nIt's all backwards like negative split photography\nBut I guess that's the way it's got to be\nUnited we stand on this land and we do all crimes\nFacin' a Dyin' Nation?\n\nFacin' a dyin' nation. Listen to the retold lies I live in a nation where it ain't what's physical that fights us\nNow it's silent strikes from political insiders\nA black market government where being criminal is righteous\nRan by bloodlines that were dirty before Isis\nThe crisis has even spread to spiritual infestations\nConfessionals filled with sexual molestations\nProfessionals so set on capitalization\nThey don't notice their children freebasin' in their million\nDollar basements\nBabies having babies in the hood I grew up in\n\nHands are too small for the guns that they be bustin'\nSchools underfunded, graduates retain nothing\nOn Capitol Hll it's barely a topic of discussion\nKids like, why should I think about college\nWhen this hood situation is holding me hostage\nAnd even if I fought and bought the knowledge\nI'd prolly get shot 41 times by a cop over my wallet\nShiiiiit. So wherever you are\nDon't inhale the second hand smoke from its victory cigar\nMotivate yourself don't just stand on the side\nFacing a dying nation and listening to the new told lies\n\nSomebody dial 9-1-1\nIt's mass confusion, mass contusions\nAt last we losin' Uncle Sam to a mass of tumors\nAnd that's the rumor at least, it's soon to be seen\nIf its true that the beast is soon to decease\nCatchin' blood clots in the crude oil\nThat runs through his veins and up thru his brain\nIts tough to maintain\nIf he was low income he'd already been gone\nInsurance paperwork gettin handled by Enron\nAnd scandalous friends call to speak\nEven Bill O'Reilly's wrapped in a hospital bedsheet\nWith a pointed hat, where the ointment at?\nWax the taxpayers backside for a tax hike\nWoulda had a Catholic priest at his bedside\nBut they were too busy giving these Boy Scouts a leg ride\nTemperature stay high but no pain\nCus the presidents Hooked on Phonics and cocaine\nProduct of old age and Alzheimers disease\nMedical bills raised from all types of fees\nLooks to the American people to show love\nBut his Social Security ran out - pull the plug\n\n(Flatline)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Dying Nation [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 218000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n There's an old saying in Tennesse, I know it's in Texas, it's probably in Tennesse\n That says fool me once... shame on... shame on you.\n If you fool me you can't fool me again.\n\n I live in a nation that relies on business and crime\n And the leaders are politician guys livin' a lie\n Who bullshit like everyone else for a nickel and dime\n America ... just as corrupt as it is online\n Using freedom and entertainment just to keep us sedated\n But remember what the declaration of independence stated?\n All men are equal and that's the way they're created?\n But when that was written, black and white people were segregated\n And this country still breeds racism, just not as blatant\n To call us the land of the free is overstatement\n Cause ain't NOBODY free. We all being watched quietly\n National security's an invasion of privacy\n Drug Trafficking, conspiracy, murder and piracy\n What America can't have they take silently\n Sometimes violently, open up your eyes and see\n Even dirty money is supporting our economy\n It's all backwards like negative split photography\n But I guess that's the way it's got to be\n United we stand on this land and we do all crimes\n Facin' a Dyin' Nation?\n\n Facin' a dyin' nation. Listen to the retold lies I live in a nation where it ain't what's physical that fights us\n Now it's silent strikes from political insiders\n A black market government where being criminal is righteous\n Ran by bloodlines that were dirty before Isis\n The crisis has even spread to spiritual infestations\n Confessionals filled with sexual molestations\n Professionals so set on capitalization\n They don't notice their children freebasin' in their million\n Dollar basements\n Babies having babies in the hood I grew up in\n\n Hands are too small for the guns that they be bustin'\n Schools underfunded, graduates retain nothing\n On Capitol Hll it's barely a topic of discussion\n Kids like, why should I think about college\n When this hood situation is holding me hostage\n And even if I fought and bought the knowledge\n I'd prolly get shot 41 times by a cop over my wallet\n Shiiiiit. So wherever you are\n Don't inhale the second hand smoke from its victory cigar\n Motivate yourself don't just stand on the side\n Facing a dying nation and listening to the new told lies\n\n Somebody dial 9-1-1\n It's mass confusion, mass contusions\n At last we losin' Uncle Sam to a mass of tumors\n And that's the rumor at least, it's soon to be seen\n If its true that the beast is soon to decease\n Catchin' blood clots in the crude oil\n That runs through his veins and up thru his brain\n Its tough to maintain\n If he was low income he'd already been gone\n Insurance paperwork gettin handled by Enron\n And scandalous friends call to speak\n Even Bill O'Reilly's wrapped in a hospital bedsheet\n With a pointed hat, where the ointment at?\n Wax the taxpayers backside for a tax hike\n Woulda had a Catholic priest at his bedside\n But they were too busy giving these Boy Scouts a leg ride\n Temperature stay high but no pain\n Cus the presidents Hooked on Phonics and cocaine\n Product of old age and Alzheimers disease\n Medical bills raised from all types of fees\n Looks to the American people to show love\n But his Social Security ran out - pull the plug\n\n (Flatline)\n"},{"id":7516210,"name":"Sunrise Sunset [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Sunrise Sunset [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":219.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Deacon the Villain]\nLife is unusually beautiful\nBut sometimes I feel so unsuitable and it drowns out what's musical\nAnd then I just find myself drinkin' and thinkin'\nMaking no turns yet my signal is blinkin'\nFeeling bad cause no judge is giving me 10\nBreaking rules to get up out of the deep end\nOn the verge of having trouble begin\nDrama never leavin'\nHot! is the weather where I'm from\nHot! is situations that come\nHot! is how people get when\nThey're stuck in a pit, world not giving a shit\nLife is suppose to be beautiful, but it's a crucible\nTurning me into a person brutal who's\nPsychodependant on, money bitches drugs\nFunny business stuff, can I give it up?\nYes I love, to get paid, get laid\nGet drunk, get high, but then I hear kids cry\nSaying that they need a model to follow\nBut I still find a liquor bottle to hollow\n[Chorus]\nSitting on the dock of the bay wasting time\nInsecurities tingle racing up my spine\nFacing crime in an eye to eye, head to head\nThinking of how to get dough to bread, keep roses red\nI realize that my life is composed of\nThe actions I take combined with the feelings I hold but\nSometimes negativity molds a, heart from it's start is\nJust trying to get over\nBut you can't let it fold tha, soldier\nThat from it's inception, needn't lucks blessing from clovers\nCause when it fights, it strikes, it slices, it bites\nFrom morning to night, back through darkness to light\nIt's office is yo life, builds a fortress that's tight\nYou can call it Christ or whatever you like\nBut to ignore it is yo right, you deal your will\nYou reap what you sew, you till your field\nBut post battle, who will - heal - your shield\nSo many vices you can sacrifice, kill and grill\nCause you gotta see that the world will confuse you\nWith abused clues\nI flip through news\nAnd see that the world's a treasure chest of misuses jewels\nWho can't maintain... from sunrise, to sunset.. they face pain\nTheir used to blue skies got grey stains\nAnd are surrounded by friends who got snake fangs\nBut you gotta block it\nDon't avoide it, destroy it, throw it up in a box and then lock it\nCut power when docs try to shock it\nCause that ain't the shit you should welcome your block with\n[Chorus]","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Sunrise Sunset [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 219000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n [Deacon the Villain]\n Life is unusually beautiful\n But sometimes I feel so unsuitable and it drowns out what's musical\n And then I just find myself drinkin' and thinkin'\n Making no turns yet my signal is blinkin'\n Feeling bad cause no judge is giving me 10\n Breaking rules to get up out of the deep end\n On the verge of having trouble begin\n Drama never leavin'\n Hot! is the weather where I'm from\n Hot! is situations that come\n Hot! is how people get when\n They're stuck in a pit, world not giving a shit\n Life is suppose to be beautiful, but it's a crucible\n Turning me into a person brutal who's\n Psychodependant on, money bitches drugs\n Funny business stuff, can I give it up?\n Yes I love, to get paid, get laid\n Get drunk, get high, but then I hear kids cry\n Saying that they need a model to follow\n But I still find a liquor bottle to hollow\n [Chorus]\n Sitting on the dock of the bay wasting time\n Insecurities tingle racing up my spine\n Facing crime in an eye to eye, head to head\n Thinking of how to get dough to bread, keep roses red\n I realize that my life is composed of\n The actions I take combined with the feelings I hold but\n Sometimes negativity molds a, heart from it's start is\n Just trying to get over\n But you can't let it fold tha, soldier\n That from it's inception, needn't lucks blessing from clovers\n Cause when it fights, it strikes, it slices, it bites\n From morning to night, back through darkness to light\n It's office is yo life, builds a fortress that's tight\n You can call it Christ or whatever you like\n But to ignore it is yo right, you deal your will\n You reap what you sew, you till your field\n But post battle, who will - heal - your shield\n So many vices you can sacrifice, kill and grill\n Cause you gotta see that the world will confuse you\n With abused clues\n I flip through news\n And see that the world's a treasure chest of misuses jewels\n Who can't maintain... from sunrise, to sunset.. they face pain\n Their used to blue skies got grey stains\n And are surrounded by friends who got snake fangs\n But you gotta block it\n Don't avoide it, destroy it, throw it up in a box and then lock it\n Cut power when docs try to shock it\n Cause that ain't the shit you should welcome your block with\n [Chorus]\n"},{"id":4353339,"name":"Old School [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Old School [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":234.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\nSlick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\nMartin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\nOr Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n\nNah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\nTaught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\nI caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\nAnd two chickens on my arm\n\nThat's true... and when I came through\nNoticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n\nGuess who rescued Repunzel\nClimbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n\nBefore EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\nI was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\nAnd made em famous way before Eminem could flow\nEven ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n\n- Scratching\n\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n\" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n\" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n\" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n\" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"\n\nI'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\nAnd Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\nThat pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\nAnd that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\nEven when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\nI told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\nBut after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\nThen Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n\nHad a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\nSmacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\nSince a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\nHad a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n\nI had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\nStarted doing end to end burners on buses\nTrust this, put King Midas' touch to use\nHe grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n\nWhen lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\nHe was the first to electric boogaloo\nThe wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\nAnd in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n\n- Scratching\n\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n\" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n\" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n\" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n\" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"\n\nTransylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\nLike, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\nThrowing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\nAnd she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n\nI had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\nGiving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\nSpellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\nEven battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\nAnd made his wives my hoes\n\nI told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\nSo he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\nRemember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\nThat was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n\nMoses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\nWith his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\nI sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\nM. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n\nThat was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\nOr Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\nBut anyway... flip through ya history books\nYou'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\nCunninlynguists!!\n\n\" Old School\"\n\" Word\"","syncedLyrics":"[00:09.01] Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\n[00:11.71] Slick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\n[00:14.48] Martin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\n[00:17.20] Or Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n[00:19.95] Nah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\n[00:21.75] Taught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\n[00:24.45] I caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\n[00:28.95] And two chickens on my arm\n[00:29.88] That's true... and when I came through\n[00:31.62] Noticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n[00:34.32] Guess who rescued Repunzel\n[00:36.23] Climbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n[00:39.88] Before EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\n[00:42.53] I was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\n[00:45.20] And made em famous way before Eminem could flow\n[00:47.02] Even ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n[00:50.63] - Scratching\n[00:53.48] \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n[00:57.07] \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n[00:58.85] \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n[01:00.69] \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n[01:02.43] \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"\n[01:05.17] I'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\n[01:12.36] And Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\n[01:15.06] That pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\n[01:17.83] And that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\n[01:20.55] Even when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\n[01:22.34] I told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\n[01:25.00] But after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\n[01:27.76] Then Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n[01:30.47] Had a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\n[01:32.21] Smacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\n[01:34.98] Since a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\n[01:37.75] Had a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n[01:39.51] I had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\n[01:42.23] Started doing end to end burners on buses\n[01:44.91] Trust this, put King Midas' touch to use\n[01:47.67] He grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n[01:50.39] When lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\n[01:53.09] He was the first to electric boogaloo\n[01:55.89] The wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\n[01:58.52] And in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n[02:01.23] - Scratching\n[02:04.88] \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n[02:07.55] \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n[02:08.44] \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n[02:10.20] \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n[02:20.30] \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"\n[02:22.22] Transylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\n[02:24.08] Like, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\n[02:25.85] Throwing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\n[02:27.62] And she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n[02:30.31] I had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\n[02:33.93] Giving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\n[02:35.79] Spellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\n[02:37.67] Even battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\n[02:40.35] And made his wives my hoes\n[02:41.24] I told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\n[02:43.01] So he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\n[02:45.75] Remember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\n[02:48.40] That was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n[02:51.18] Moses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\n[02:53.86] With his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\n[02:55.68] I sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\n[02:58.34] M. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n[03:01.18] That was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\n[03:03.82] Or Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\n[03:05.65] But anyway... flip through ya history books\n[03:08.36] You'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\n[03:11.01] Cunninlynguists!!\n[03:17.35] \" Old School\"\n[03:19.25] \" Word\"\n[03:27.33] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Old School [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 234000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\n start_ms: 9010\n end_ms: 11710\n- text: Slick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\n start_ms: 11710\n end_ms: 14480\n- text: Martin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\n start_ms: 14480\n end_ms: 17200\n- text: Or Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n start_ms: 17200\n end_ms: 19950\n- text: Nah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\n start_ms: 19950\n end_ms: 21750\n- text: Taught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\n start_ms: 21750\n end_ms: 24450\n- text: I caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\n start_ms: 24450\n end_ms: 28950\n- text: And two chickens on my arm\n start_ms: 28950\n end_ms: 29880\n- text: That's true... and when I came through\n start_ms: 29880\n end_ms: 31620\n- text: Noticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n start_ms: 31620\n end_ms: 34320\n- text: Guess who rescued Repunzel\n start_ms: 34320\n end_ms: 36230\n- text: Climbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n start_ms: 36230\n end_ms: 39880\n- text: Before EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\n start_ms: 39880\n end_ms: 42530\n- text: I was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\n start_ms: 42530\n end_ms: 45200\n- text: And made em famous way before Eminem could flow\n start_ms: 45200\n end_ms: 47020\n- text: Even ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n start_ms: 47020\n end_ms: 50630\n- text: '- Scratching'\n start_ms: 50630\n end_ms: 53480\n- text: '\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli''s \" Down For The Count\"'\n start_ms: 53480\n end_ms: 57070\n- text: '\" I''m so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"'\n start_ms: 57070\n end_ms: 58850\n- text: '\" I''m old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul''s \" My Writes\"'\n start_ms: 58850\n end_ms: 60690\n- text: '\" True, that''s old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr''s \" Very Well\"'\n start_ms: 60690\n end_ms: 62430\n- text: '\" I''ll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks''s \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"'\n start_ms: 62430\n end_ms: 65170\n- text: I'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\n start_ms: 65170\n end_ms: 72360\n- text: And Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\n start_ms: 72360\n end_ms: 75060\n- text: That pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\n start_ms: 75060\n end_ms: 77830\n- text: And that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\n start_ms: 77830\n end_ms: 80550\n- text: Even when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\n start_ms: 80550\n end_ms: 82340\n- text: I told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\n start_ms: 82340\n end_ms: 85000\n- text: But after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\n start_ms: 85000\n end_ms: 87760\n- text: Then Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n start_ms: 87760\n end_ms: 90470\n- text: Had a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\n start_ms: 90470\n end_ms: 92210\n- text: Smacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\n start_ms: 92210\n end_ms: 94980\n- text: Since a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\n start_ms: 94980\n end_ms: 97750\n- text: Had a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n start_ms: 97750\n end_ms: 99510\n- text: I had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\n start_ms: 99510\n end_ms: 102230\n- text: Started doing end to end burners on buses\n start_ms: 102230\n end_ms: 104910\n- text: Trust this, put King Midas' touch to use\n start_ms: 104910\n end_ms: 107670\n- text: He grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n start_ms: 107670\n end_ms: 110390\n- text: When lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\n start_ms: 110390\n end_ms: 113090\n- text: He was the first to electric boogaloo\n start_ms: 113090\n end_ms: 115890\n- text: The wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\n start_ms: 115890\n end_ms: 118520\n- text: And in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n start_ms: 118520\n end_ms: 121230\n- text: '- Scratching'\n start_ms: 121230\n end_ms: 124880\n- text: '\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli''s \" Down For The Count\"'\n start_ms: 124880\n end_ms: 127550\n- text: '\" I''m so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"'\n start_ms: 127550\n end_ms: 128440\n- text: '\" I''m old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul''s \" My Writes\"'\n start_ms: 128440\n end_ms: 130200\n- text: '\" True, that''s old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr''s \" Very Well\"'\n start_ms: 130200\n end_ms: 140300\n- text: '\" I''ll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks''s \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"'\n start_ms: 140300\n end_ms: 142220\n- text: Transylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\n start_ms: 142220\n end_ms: 144080\n- text: Like, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\n start_ms: 144080\n end_ms: 145850\n- text: Throwing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\n start_ms: 145850\n end_ms: 147620\n- text: And she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n start_ms: 147620\n end_ms: 150310\n- text: I had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\n start_ms: 150310\n end_ms: 153930\n- text: Giving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\n start_ms: 153930\n end_ms: 155790\n- text: Spellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\n start_ms: 155790\n end_ms: 157670\n- text: Even battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\n start_ms: 157670\n end_ms: 160350\n- text: And made his wives my hoes\n start_ms: 160350\n end_ms: 161240\n- text: I told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\n start_ms: 161240\n end_ms: 163010\n- text: So he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\n start_ms: 163010\n end_ms: 165750\n- text: Remember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\n start_ms: 165750\n end_ms: 168400\n- text: That was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n start_ms: 168400\n end_ms: 171180\n- text: Moses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\n start_ms: 171180\n end_ms: 173860\n- text: With his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\n start_ms: 173860\n end_ms: 175680\n- text: I sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\n start_ms: 175680\n end_ms: 178340\n- text: M. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n start_ms: 178340\n end_ms: 181180\n- text: That was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\n start_ms: 181180\n end_ms: 183820\n- text: Or Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\n start_ms: 183820\n end_ms: 185650\n- text: But anyway... flip through ya history books\n start_ms: 185650\n end_ms: 188360\n- text: You'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\n start_ms: 188360\n end_ms: 191010\n- text: Cunninlynguists!!\n start_ms: 191010\n end_ms: 197350\n- text: '\" Old School\"'\n start_ms: 197350\n end_ms: 199250\n- text: '\" Word\"'\n start_ms: 199250\n end_ms: 207330\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 207330\nplain: |-\n Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\n Slick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\n Martin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\n Or Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n\n Nah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\n Taught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\n I caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\n And two chickens on my arm\n\n That's true... and when I came through\n Noticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n\n Guess who rescued Repunzel\n Climbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n\n Before EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\n I was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\n And made em famous way before Eminem could flow\n Even ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n\n - Scratching\n \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"\n\n I'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\n And Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\n That pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\n And that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\n Even when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\n I told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\n But after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\n Then Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n\n Had a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\n Smacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\n Since a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\n Had a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n\n I had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\n Started doing end to end burners on buses\n Trust this, put King Midas' touch to use\n He grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n\n When lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\n He was the first to electric boogaloo\n The wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\n And in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n\n - Scratching\n \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"\n\n Transylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\n Like, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\n Throwing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\n And she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n\n I had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\n Giving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\n Spellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\n Even battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\n And made his wives my hoes\n\n I told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\n So he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\n Remember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\n That was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n\n Moses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\n With his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\n I sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\n M. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n\n That was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\n Or Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\n But anyway... flip through ya history books\n You'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\n Cunninlynguists!!\n\n \" Old School\"\n \" Word\"\n"},{"id":4352495,"name":"Doin Alright [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Doin Alright [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":280.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"X2\nI'll be doin' alright. I'll be doin' ok\nAnd as long as I can live to see another day\nI'll be doin alright. I'll be doin ok\n\nBack in the sixteenth century ... way way back in the day\nNostradamus predicted the end of the world would be on May\n5th... 1999 and I don't know how\nBut as I'm writing this that's only one day from right now\nWhat the fuck! I pull up to Shell in my truck\nLook up, \"nah... Earth ain't about to erupt\"\nOpen my door, get up, slam it shut, \"Marv, what up\nLet me get a bag of ice and a stack of plastic cups\"\nFor a minute we chat 'bout life and all o that\nThen we dap. \"Check you out tomorrow night, I'll be back\"\nGrab a bidi and light it, turn the key and start driving\nBack off into the night and then I start to get frightened\nThinking \"Damn! My whole life I was just a dreamer\nI never got to put on a show in a packed arena\nI wanted to go on Rap City and act witty\nBut all I ever did was put up with hoes who act shitty\nWhat a wack pity! Was I choosin a road\nThat didn't get me there in time and now we losin our globe?\nHold up I'm losin control. Think realistically on it\nWhat could fuck up a planet in one day without warning?\nAnd even if the world does end and I can be mad at guys\nCause life coulda been much worse. At least I'm satisfied\nAt least my dad's alive married to my mother\nI have a sister and friends that I could call my brothers\nAt least I have life. Some people, their life was stolen\nSet up for a crime and behind bars is where they hold em\nWe got kids killin kids cause Earth is cold\nWomen using abortions as a form of birth control\nIt hurts the soul and leaves a scar on your conscience\nBut it's a blessing that I made it through this nonsense\nSo even if this will be my last night\nAt least when it's over I'll be doin alright...\n\nBack in the 16th century, way way back in the day\nNostradamous predicted the world would be on may\n5th, 99, three years later and change\nThe World Trades frame got struck by planes\nLooking like God unleashed his fury and rained flames\nExchanged pain for how America came to fame\nCluthing my brain, my sense of security changed\nUsually confidence was pure in me, now fear in my veins\nSaid \"any of this shit could brang nuclear weapons\n...any of this shit could end at any second\"\nIf the Commander in Chief couldn't insure our protection\nThat's no more additions to my memory's collection\nMissing me and my girls matrimonial connection\nNo child and videotapin' her first steppings\nOr growing old and teaching grandchildren lifes lessons\nBut thankfully I got saved during them church sessions\nSo I thank God for earth's blessings... health\nNot alot of wealth, but alot of peace within my self\nNot a whole lot of forgotten pieces upon the shelf\nDisclipline from loving parents, though they raised me\nBy the belt\nWhen I was young, I was wild\n(Life) took it for granted\n(Nights) living outlandish\n(Christ) hope he could stand it\nNow I do right. wherever I can manage\nThe devil was eating me alive but I climbed out of that sandwich\nNow possibly on the verge of having everything vanish\nFeeling as if I didn't do anything as I planned it\nLike I was trying to live my life right, but somebody panned it\nBut I still had love, when down helping hands lifted\nMe up, outta the mud, outta the muck\nAnd outta the dark and attitude when I didn't give a fuck\nFrom them days in the park, alone, drinking gin by the cup\nThrough an exitless maze, wandering and constantly stuck\nThe blessings were always there, I just chose to ignore them\nShit started getting sweeter when I learned to explore them\nWasn't selfish with them, trying to stretch and contort them\nAnd didn't let the world get to them first and distort them\nSo as I. kick back and ponder on armeggedon\nAnd I... spit raps about where my life could've been headin'\nI. admit that. I do have a wonderful life\nSo if this night was my last, i'll be doin' alright","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.75] X2\n[00:09.96] I'll be doin' alright. I'll be doin' ok\n[00:11.72] And as long as I can live to see another day\n[00:14.65] I'll be doin alright. I'll be doin ok\n[00:29.03] Back in the sixteenth century ... way way back in the day\n[00:31.72] Nostradamus predicted the end of the world would be on May\n[00:34.45] 5th... 1999 and I don't know how\n[00:37.10] But as I'm writing this that's only one day from right now\n[00:39.90] What the fuck! I pull up to Shell in my truck\n[00:41.71] Look up, \"nah... Earth ain't about to erupt\"\n[00:44.42] Open my door, get up, slam it shut, \"Marv, what up\n[00:47.13] Let me get a bag of ice and a stack of plastic cups\"\n[00:49.89] For a minute we chat 'bout life and all o that\n[00:51.68] Then we dap. \"Check you out tomorrow night, I'll be back\"\n[00:54.37] Grab a bidi and light it, turn the key and start driving\n[00:57.05] Back off into the night and then I start to get frightened\n[00:59.70] Thinking \"Damn! My whole life I was just a dreamer\n[01:02.53] I never got to put on a show in a packed arena\n[01:05.25] I wanted to go on Rap City and act witty\n[01:07.06] But all I ever did was put up with hoes who act shitty\n[01:09.79] What a wack pity! Was I choosin a road\n[01:12.48] That didn't get me there in time and now we losin our globe?\n[01:15.10] Hold up I'm losin control. Think realistically on it\n[01:17.89] What could fuck up a planet in one day without warning?\n[01:19.66] And even if the world does end and I can be mad at guys\n[01:23.24] Cause life coulda been much worse. At least I'm satisfied\n[01:25.99] At least my dad's alive married to my mother\n[01:27.79] I have a sister and friends that I could call my brothers\n[01:30.43] At least I have life. Some people, their life was stolen\n[01:33.20] Set up for a crime and behind bars is where they hold em\n[01:35.06] We got kids killin kids cause Earth is cold\n[01:37.79] Women using abortions as a form of birth control\n[01:40.47] It hurts the soul and leaves a scar on your conscience\n[01:43.19] But it's a blessing that I made it through this nonsense\n[01:45.84] So even if this will be my last night\n[01:47.60] At least when it's over I'll be doin alright...\n[02:10.22] Back in the 16th century, way way back in the day\n[02:13.00] Nostradamous predicted the world would be on may\n[02:15.61] 5th, 99, three years later and change\n[02:18.32] The World Trades frame got struck by planes\n[02:20.10] Looking like God unleashed his fury and rained flames\n[02:22.84] Exchanged pain for how America came to fame\n[02:25.55] Cluthing my brain, my sense of security changed\n[02:28.30] Usually confidence was pure in me, now fear in my veins\n[02:31.02] Said \"any of this shit could brang nuclear weapons\n[02:33.73] ...any of this shit could end at any second\"\n[02:35.55] If the Commander in Chief couldn't insure our protection\n[02:38.22] That's no more additions to my memory's collection\n[02:40.97] Missing me and my girls matrimonial connection\n[02:43.60] No child and videotapin' her first steppings\n[02:45.49] Or growing old and teaching grandchildren lifes lessons\n[02:48.15] But thankfully I got saved during them church sessions\n[02:50.88] So I thank God for earth's blessings... health\n[02:53.69] Not alot of wealth, but alot of peace within my self\n[02:56.35] Not a whole lot of forgotten pieces upon the shelf\n[02:58.14] Disclipline from loving parents, though they raised me\n[03:00.84] By the belt\n[03:01.74] When I was young, I was wild\n[03:02.64] (Life) took it for granted\n[03:03.58] (Nights) living outlandish\n[03:04.44] (Christ) hope he could stand it\n[03:06.21] Now I do right. wherever I can manage\n[03:08.07] The devil was eating me alive but I climbed out of that sandwich\n[03:10.72] Now possibly on the verge of having everything vanish\n[03:13.42] Feeling as if I didn't do anything as I planned it\n[03:16.14] Like I was trying to live my life right, but somebody panned it\n[03:18.96] But I still had love, when down helping hands lifted\n[03:21.67] Me up, outta the mud, outta the muck\n[03:23.49] And outta the dark and attitude when I didn't give a fuck\n[03:26.18] From them days in the park, alone, drinking gin by the cup\n[03:28.82] Through an exitless maze, wandering and constantly stuck\n[03:30.62] The blessings were always there, I just chose to ignore them\n[03:34.28] Shit started getting sweeter when I learned to explore them\n[03:36.08] Wasn't selfish with them, trying to stretch and contort them\n[03:38.70] And didn't let the world get to them first and distort them\n[03:41.40] So as I. kick back and ponder on armeggedon\n[03:44.26] And I... spit raps about where my life could've been headin'\n[03:46.03] I. admit that. I do have a wonderful life\n[03:48.76] So if this night was my last, i'll be doin' alright\n[03:52.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Doin Alright [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 280000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: X2\n start_ms: 2750\n end_ms: 9960\n- text: I'll be doin' alright. I'll be doin' ok\n start_ms: 9960\n end_ms: 11720\n- text: And as long as I can live to see another day\n start_ms: 11720\n end_ms: 14650\n- text: I'll be doin alright. I'll be doin ok\n start_ms: 14650\n end_ms: 29030\n- text: Back in the sixteenth century ... way way back in the day\n start_ms: 29030\n end_ms: 31720\n- text: Nostradamus predicted the end of the world would be on May\n start_ms: 31720\n end_ms: 34450\n- text: 5th... 1999 and I don't know how\n start_ms: 34450\n end_ms: 37100\n- text: But as I'm writing this that's only one day from right now\n start_ms: 37100\n end_ms: 39900\n- text: What the fuck! I pull up to Shell in my truck\n start_ms: 39900\n end_ms: 41710\n- text: Look up, \"nah... Earth ain't about to erupt\"\n start_ms: 41710\n end_ms: 44420\n- text: Open my door, get up, slam it shut, \"Marv, what up\n start_ms: 44420\n end_ms: 47130\n- text: Let me get a bag of ice and a stack of plastic cups\"\n start_ms: 47130\n end_ms: 49890\n- text: For a minute we chat 'bout life and all o that\n start_ms: 49890\n end_ms: 51680\n- text: Then we dap. \"Check you out tomorrow night, I'll be back\"\n start_ms: 51680\n end_ms: 54370\n- text: Grab a bidi and light it, turn the key and start driving\n start_ms: 54370\n end_ms: 57050\n- text: Back off into the night and then I start to get frightened\n start_ms: 57050\n end_ms: 59700\n- text: Thinking \"Damn! My whole life I was just a dreamer\n start_ms: 59700\n end_ms: 62530\n- text: I never got to put on a show in a packed arena\n start_ms: 62530\n end_ms: 65250\n- text: I wanted to go on Rap City and act witty\n start_ms: 65250\n end_ms: 67060\n- text: But all I ever did was put up with hoes who act shitty\n start_ms: 67060\n end_ms: 69790\n- text: What a wack pity! Was I choosin a road\n start_ms: 69790\n end_ms: 72480\n- text: That didn't get me there in time and now we losin our globe?\n start_ms: 72480\n end_ms: 75100\n- text: Hold up I'm losin control. Think realistically on it\n start_ms: 75100\n end_ms: 77890\n- text: What could fuck up a planet in one day without warning?\n start_ms: 77890\n end_ms: 79660\n- text: And even if the world does end and I can be mad at guys\n start_ms: 79660\n end_ms: 83240\n- text: Cause life coulda been much worse. At least I'm satisfied\n start_ms: 83240\n end_ms: 85990\n- text: At least my dad's alive married to my mother\n start_ms: 85990\n end_ms: 87790\n- text: I have a sister and friends that I could call my brothers\n start_ms: 87790\n end_ms: 90430\n- text: At least I have life. Some people, their life was stolen\n start_ms: 90430\n end_ms: 93200\n- text: Set up for a crime and behind bars is where they hold em\n start_ms: 93200\n end_ms: 95060\n- text: We got kids killin kids cause Earth is cold\n start_ms: 95060\n end_ms: 97790\n- text: Women using abortions as a form of birth control\n start_ms: 97790\n end_ms: 100470\n- text: It hurts the soul and leaves a scar on your conscience\n start_ms: 100470\n end_ms: 103190\n- text: But it's a blessing that I made it through this nonsense\n start_ms: 103190\n end_ms: 105840\n- text: So even if this will be my last night\n start_ms: 105840\n end_ms: 107600\n- text: At least when it's over I'll be doin alright...\n start_ms: 107600\n end_ms: 130220\n- text: Back in the 16th century, way way back in the day\n start_ms: 130220\n end_ms: 133000\n- text: Nostradamous predicted the world would be on may\n start_ms: 133000\n end_ms: 135610\n- text: 5th, 99, three years later and change\n start_ms: 135610\n end_ms: 138320\n- text: The World Trades frame got struck by planes\n start_ms: 138320\n end_ms: 140100\n- text: Looking like God unleashed his fury and rained flames\n start_ms: 140100\n end_ms: 142840\n- text: Exchanged pain for how America came to fame\n start_ms: 142840\n end_ms: 145550\n- text: Cluthing my brain, my sense of security changed\n start_ms: 145550\n end_ms: 148300\n- text: Usually confidence was pure in me, now fear in my veins\n start_ms: 148300\n end_ms: 151020\n- text: Said \"any of this shit could brang nuclear weapons\n start_ms: 151020\n end_ms: 153730\n- text: '...any of this shit could end at any second\"'\n start_ms: 153730\n end_ms: 155550\n- text: If the Commander in Chief couldn't insure our protection\n start_ms: 155550\n end_ms: 158220\n- text: That's no more additions to my memory's collection\n start_ms: 158220\n end_ms: 160970\n- text: Missing me and my girls matrimonial connection\n start_ms: 160970\n end_ms: 163600\n- text: No child and videotapin' her first steppings\n start_ms: 163600\n end_ms: 165490\n- text: Or growing old and teaching grandchildren lifes lessons\n start_ms: 165490\n end_ms: 168150\n- text: But thankfully I got saved during them church sessions\n start_ms: 168150\n end_ms: 170880\n- text: So I thank God for earth's blessings... health\n start_ms: 170880\n end_ms: 173690\n- text: Not alot of wealth, but alot of peace within my self\n start_ms: 173690\n end_ms: 176350\n- text: Not a whole lot of forgotten pieces upon the shelf\n start_ms: 176350\n end_ms: 178140\n- text: Disclipline from loving parents, though they raised me\n start_ms: 178140\n end_ms: 180840\n- text: By the belt\n start_ms: 180840\n end_ms: 181740\n- text: When I was young, I was wild\n start_ms: 181740\n end_ms: 182640\n- text: (Life) took it for granted\n start_ms: 182640\n end_ms: 183580\n- text: (Nights) living outlandish\n start_ms: 183580\n end_ms: 184440\n- text: (Christ) hope he could stand it\n start_ms: 184440\n end_ms: 186210\n- text: Now I do right. wherever I can manage\n start_ms: 186210\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: The devil was eating me alive but I climbed out of that sandwich\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 190720\n- text: Now possibly on the verge of having everything vanish\n start_ms: 190720\n end_ms: 193420\n- text: Feeling as if I didn't do anything as I planned it\n start_ms: 193420\n end_ms: 196140\n- text: Like I was trying to live my life right, but somebody panned it\n start_ms: 196140\n end_ms: 198960\n- text: But I still had love, when down helping hands lifted\n start_ms: 198960\n end_ms: 201670\n- text: Me up, outta the mud, outta the muck\n start_ms: 201670\n end_ms: 203490\n- text: And outta the dark and attitude when I didn't give a fuck\n start_ms: 203490\n end_ms: 206180\n- text: From them days in the park, alone, drinking gin by the cup\n start_ms: 206180\n end_ms: 208820\n- text: Through an exitless maze, wandering and constantly stuck\n start_ms: 208820\n end_ms: 210620\n- text: The blessings were always there, I just chose to ignore them\n start_ms: 210620\n end_ms: 214280\n- text: Shit started getting sweeter when I learned to explore them\n start_ms: 214280\n end_ms: 216080\n- text: Wasn't selfish with them, trying to stretch and contort them\n start_ms: 216080\n end_ms: 218700\n- text: And didn't let the world get to them first and distort them\n start_ms: 218700\n end_ms: 221400\n- text: So as I. kick back and ponder on armeggedon\n start_ms: 221400\n end_ms: 224260\n- text: And I... spit raps about where my life could've been headin'\n start_ms: 224260\n end_ms: 226030\n- text: I. admit that. I do have a wonderful life\n start_ms: 226030\n end_ms: 228760\n- text: So if this night was my last, i'll be doin' alright\n start_ms: 228760\n end_ms: 232320\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 232320\nplain: |-\n X2\n I'll be doin' alright. I'll be doin' ok\n And as long as I can live to see another day\n I'll be doin alright. I'll be doin ok\n\n Back in the sixteenth century ... way way back in the day\n Nostradamus predicted the end of the world would be on May\n 5th... 1999 and I don't know how\n But as I'm writing this that's only one day from right now\n What the fuck! I pull up to Shell in my truck\n Look up, \"nah... Earth ain't about to erupt\"\n Open my door, get up, slam it shut, \"Marv, what up\n Let me get a bag of ice and a stack of plastic cups\"\n For a minute we chat 'bout life and all o that\n Then we dap. \"Check you out tomorrow night, I'll be back\"\n Grab a bidi and light it, turn the key and start driving\n Back off into the night and then I start to get frightened\n Thinking \"Damn! My whole life I was just a dreamer\n I never got to put on a show in a packed arena\n I wanted to go on Rap City and act witty\n But all I ever did was put up with hoes who act shitty\n What a wack pity! Was I choosin a road\n That didn't get me there in time and now we losin our globe?\n Hold up I'm losin control. Think realistically on it\n What could fuck up a planet in one day without warning?\n And even if the world does end and I can be mad at guys\n Cause life coulda been much worse. At least I'm satisfied\n At least my dad's alive married to my mother\n I have a sister and friends that I could call my brothers\n At least I have life. Some people, their life was stolen\n Set up for a crime and behind bars is where they hold em\n We got kids killin kids cause Earth is cold\n Women using abortions as a form of birth control\n It hurts the soul and leaves a scar on your conscience\n But it's a blessing that I made it through this nonsense\n So even if this will be my last night\n At least when it's over I'll be doin alright...\n\n Back in the 16th century, way way back in the day\n Nostradamous predicted the world would be on may\n 5th, 99, three years later and change\n The World Trades frame got struck by planes\n Looking like God unleashed his fury and rained flames\n Exchanged pain for how America came to fame\n Cluthing my brain, my sense of security changed\n Usually confidence was pure in me, now fear in my veins\n Said \"any of this shit could brang nuclear weapons\n ...any of this shit could end at any second\"\n If the Commander in Chief couldn't insure our protection\n That's no more additions to my memory's collection\n Missing me and my girls matrimonial connection\n No child and videotapin' her first steppings\n Or growing old and teaching grandchildren lifes lessons\n But thankfully I got saved during them church sessions\n So I thank God for earth's blessings... health\n Not alot of wealth, but alot of peace within my self\n Not a whole lot of forgotten pieces upon the shelf\n Disclipline from loving parents, though they raised me\n By the belt\n When I was young, I was wild\n (Life) took it for granted\n (Nights) living outlandish\n (Christ) hope he could stand it\n Now I do right. wherever I can manage\n The devil was eating me alive but I climbed out of that sandwich\n Now possibly on the verge of having everything vanish\n Feeling as if I didn't do anything as I planned it\n Like I was trying to live my life right, but somebody panned it\n But I still had love, when down helping hands lifted\n Me up, outta the mud, outta the muck\n And outta the dark and attitude when I didn't give a fuck\n From them days in the park, alone, drinking gin by the cup\n Through an exitless maze, wandering and constantly stuck\n The blessings were always there, I just chose to ignore them\n Shit started getting sweeter when I learned to explore them\n Wasn't selfish with them, trying to stretch and contort them\n And didn't let the world get to them first and distort them\n So as I. kick back and ponder on armeggedon\n And I... spit raps about where my life could've been headin'\n I. admit that. I do have a wonderful life\n So if this night was my last, i'll be doin' alright\n"},{"id":4353984,"name":"The South [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"The South [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":207.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\nCreepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\nLike a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\nCause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\nAnd we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\nVisitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\nBlowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\nHumidity floats in the breeze\nAnd this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\nLike GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\nCause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\nParties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\nBirds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\nAnd they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\nFollow me and any questions just ask the leaders\nAnd the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\nSippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\nSo come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\nTricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\nHospitality? we treat our company well\nFrom Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\nGals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\nNiggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\nYou try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\nYour trip'll last about as long as the XFL\nHere, the weather's hot\nStreets? we keep em blocked\nMardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\nFrom them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\nSwing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\nSo please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\nWelcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\nBirdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\nThe southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\nBut in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\nWe still got racist people with inflated egos\nGot foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\nRough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\nFiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\nStreets with much hype and some like to kill people\nAnd if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\nRemember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\nBut still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\nThe home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\nThe home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\nCadillac grills, battle rap skills\nThe home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\nGirls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\nThe home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\nThe home of everything under the mason dixie line","syncedLyrics":"[00:35.04] Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n[00:36.34] Creepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\n[00:39.76] Like a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\n[00:42.03] Cause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\n[00:44.54] And we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\n[00:47.09] Visitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\n[00:49.24] Blowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\n[00:51.63] Humidity floats in the breeze\n[00:53.08] And this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\n[00:56.60] Like GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\n[00:59.54] Cause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\n[01:01.85] Parties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\n[01:04.31] Birds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\n[01:06.92] And they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\n[01:09.77] Follow me and any questions just ask the leaders\n[01:11.78] And the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\n[01:14.69] Sippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\n[01:17.12] So come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\n[01:19.11] Tricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\n[01:21.84] Hospitality? we treat our company well\n[01:24.06] From Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\n[01:26.66] Gals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\n[01:29.21] Niggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\n[01:31.83] You try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\n[01:34.05] Your trip'll last about as long as the XFL\n[01:36.73] Here, the weather's hot\n[01:38.04] Streets? we keep em blocked\n[01:39.17] Mardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\n[01:41.65] From them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\n[01:43.90] Swing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\n[01:46.60] So please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\n[01:48.93] Welcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\n[01:51.60] Birdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\n[01:54.02] The southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\n[02:06.42] But in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\n[02:18.72] We still got racist people with inflated egos\n[02:21.30] Got foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\n[02:23.96] Rough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\n[02:26.11] Fiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\n[02:28.56] Streets with much hype and some like to kill people\n[02:31.12] And if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\n[02:33.51] Remember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\n[02:36.05] But still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\n[02:38.47] The home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\n[02:40.87] The home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\n[02:43.51] Cadillac grills, battle rap skills\n[02:45.86] The home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\n[02:48.44] Girls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\n[02:50.83] The home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\n[02:53.48] The home of everything under the mason dixie line\n[02:55.80] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The South [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 207000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n start_ms: 35040\n end_ms: 36340\n- text: Creepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\n start_ms: 36340\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Like a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42030\n- text: Cause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\n start_ms: 42030\n end_ms: 44540\n- text: And we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\n start_ms: 44540\n end_ms: 47090\n- text: Visitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\n start_ms: 47090\n end_ms: 49240\n- text: Blowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\n start_ms: 49240\n end_ms: 51630\n- text: Humidity floats in the breeze\n start_ms: 51630\n end_ms: 53080\n- text: And this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\n start_ms: 53080\n end_ms: 56600\n- text: Like GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\n start_ms: 56600\n end_ms: 59540\n- text: Cause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\n start_ms: 59540\n end_ms: 61850\n- text: Parties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\n start_ms: 61850\n end_ms: 64310\n- text: Birds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\n start_ms: 64310\n end_ms: 66920\n- text: And they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\n start_ms: 66920\n end_ms: 69770\n- text: Follow me and any questions just ask the leaders\n start_ms: 69770\n end_ms: 71780\n- text: And the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\n start_ms: 71780\n end_ms: 74690\n- text: Sippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\n start_ms: 74690\n end_ms: 77120\n- text: So come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\n start_ms: 77120\n end_ms: 79110\n- text: Tricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\n start_ms: 79110\n end_ms: 81840\n- text: Hospitality? we treat our company well\n start_ms: 81840\n end_ms: 84060\n- text: From Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\n start_ms: 84060\n end_ms: 86660\n- text: Gals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\n start_ms: 86660\n end_ms: 89210\n- text: Niggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\n start_ms: 89210\n end_ms: 91830\n- text: You try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\n start_ms: 91830\n end_ms: 94050\n- text: Your trip'll last about as long as the XFL\n start_ms: 94050\n end_ms: 96730\n- text: Here, the weather's hot\n start_ms: 96730\n end_ms: 98040\n- text: Streets? we keep em blocked\n start_ms: 98040\n end_ms: 99170\n- text: Mardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\n start_ms: 99170\n end_ms: 101650\n- text: From them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\n start_ms: 101650\n end_ms: 103900\n- text: Swing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\n start_ms: 103900\n end_ms: 106600\n- text: So please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\n start_ms: 106600\n end_ms: 108930\n- text: Welcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\n start_ms: 108930\n end_ms: 111600\n- text: Birdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\n start_ms: 111600\n end_ms: 114020\n- text: The southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\n start_ms: 114020\n end_ms: 126420\n- text: But in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\n start_ms: 126420\n end_ms: 138720\n- text: We still got racist people with inflated egos\n start_ms: 138720\n end_ms: 141300\n- text: Got foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\n start_ms: 141300\n end_ms: 143960\n- text: Rough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\n start_ms: 143960\n end_ms: 146110\n- text: Fiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\n start_ms: 146110\n end_ms: 148560\n- text: Streets with much hype and some like to kill people\n start_ms: 148560\n end_ms: 151120\n- text: And if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\n start_ms: 151120\n end_ms: 153510\n- text: Remember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\n start_ms: 153510\n end_ms: 156050\n- text: But still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\n start_ms: 156050\n end_ms: 158470\n- text: The home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\n start_ms: 158470\n end_ms: 160870\n- text: The home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\n start_ms: 160870\n end_ms: 163510\n- text: Cadillac grills, battle rap skills\n start_ms: 163510\n end_ms: 165860\n- text: The home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\n start_ms: 165860\n end_ms: 168440\n- text: Girls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\n start_ms: 168440\n end_ms: 170830\n- text: The home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\n start_ms: 170830\n end_ms: 173480\n- text: The home of everything under the mason dixie line\n start_ms: 173480\n end_ms: 175800\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 175800\nplain: |-\n Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\n Creepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\n Like a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\n Cause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\n And we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\n Visitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\n Blowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\n Humidity floats in the breeze\n And this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\n Like GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\n Cause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\n Parties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\n Birds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\n And they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\n Follow me and any questions just ask the leaders\n And the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\n Sippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\n So come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\n Tricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\n Hospitality? we treat our company well\n From Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\n Gals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\n Niggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\n You try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\n Your trip'll last about as long as the XFL\n Here, the weather's hot\n Streets? we keep em blocked\n Mardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\n From them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\n Swing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\n So please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\n Welcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\n Birdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\n The southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\n But in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\n We still got racist people with inflated egos\n Got foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\n Rough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\n Fiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\n Streets with much hype and some like to kill people\n And if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\n Remember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\n But still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\n The home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\n The home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\n Cadillac grills, battle rap skills\n The home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\n Girls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\n The home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\n The home of everything under the mason dixie line\n"},{"id":40168693,"name":"Southernunderground (Instrumental)","trackName":"Southernunderground (Instrumental)","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"SouthernUnderground (Deluxe Edition 2009)","duration":154.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Southernunderground (Instrumental)\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: SouthernUnderground (Deluxe Edition 2009)\n duration_ms: 153809\n instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":7517603,"name":"The South (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"The South (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":207.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\nCreepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\nLike a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\nCause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\nAnd we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\nVisitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\nBlowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\nHumidity floats in the breeze\nAnd this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\nLike GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\nCause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\nParties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\nBirds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\nAnd they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\nFollow me and any questions just ask the leaders\nAnd the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\nSippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\nSo come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\nTricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\nHospitality? we treat our company well\nFrom Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\nGals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\nNiggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\nYou try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\nYour trip'll last about as long as the XFL\nHere, the weather's hot\nStreets? we keep em blocked\nMardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\nFrom them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\nSwing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\nSo please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\nWelcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\nBirdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\nThe southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\nBut in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\nWe still got racist people with inflated egos\nGot foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\nRough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\nFiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\nStreets with much hype and some like to kill people\nAnd if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\nRemember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\nBut still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\nThe home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\nThe home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\nCadillac grills, battle rap skills\nThe home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\nGirls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\nThe home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\nThe home of everything under the mason dixie line","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The South (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 207000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\n Creepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\n Like a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\n Cause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\n And we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\n Visitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\n Blowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\n Humidity floats in the breeze\n And this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\n Like GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\n Cause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\n Parties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\n Birds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\n And they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\n Follow me and any questions just ask the leaders\n And the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\n Sippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\n So come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\n Tricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\n Hospitality? we treat our company well\n From Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\n Gals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\n Niggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\n You try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\n Your trip'll last about as long as the XFL\n Here, the weather's hot\n Streets? we keep em blocked\n Mardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\n From them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\n Swing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\n So please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\n Welcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\n Birdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\n The southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\n But in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\n We still got racist people with inflated egos\n Got foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\n Rough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\n Fiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\n Streets with much hype and some like to kill people\n And if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\n Remember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\n But still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\n The home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\n The home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\n Cadillac grills, battle rap skills\n The home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\n Girls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\n The home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\n The home of everything under the mason dixie line\n"},{"id":7514271,"name":"Old School (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Old School (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":244.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\nSlick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\nMartin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\nOr Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n\nNah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\nTaught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\nI caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\nAnd two chickens on my arm\n\nThat's true... and when I came through\nNoticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n\nGuess who rescued Repunzel\nClimbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n\nBefore EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\nI was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\nAnd made em famous way before Eminem could flow\nEven ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n\n- Scratching\n\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n\" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n\" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n\" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n\" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"\n\nI'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\nAnd Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\nThat pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\nAnd that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\nEven when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\nI told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\nBut after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\nThen Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n\nHad a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\nSmacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\nSince a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\nHad a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n\nI had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\nStarted doing end to end burners on buses\nTrust this, put King Midas' touch to use\nHe grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n\nWhen lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\nHe was the first to electric boogaloo\nThe wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\nAnd in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n\n- Scratching\n\" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n\" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n\" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n\" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n\" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"\n\nTransylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\nLike, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\nThrowing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\nAnd she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n\nI had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\nGiving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\nSpellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\nEven battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\nAnd made his wives my hoes\n\nI told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\nSo he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\nRemember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\nThat was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n\nMoses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\nWith his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\nI sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\nM. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n\nThat was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\nOr Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\nBut anyway... flip through ya history books\nYou'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\nCunninlynguists!!\n\n\" Old School\"\n\" Word\"","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Old School (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 244000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Before R. Kelly had his teens. Wutang had their cream\n Slick Rick had his rings... crack rock had it's fiends\n Martin Luther had his dreams, Stevie Wonder could sing\n Or Elvis was king, Hip Hop was on the scene\n\n Nah meeeeen, go back like Hitchcocks' hairline\n Taught Fred Estaire how to pop lock in my spare time\n I caught a ride on Noah's ark, cus I had a pair of Puma's\n And two chickens on my arm\n\n That's true... and when I came through\n Noticed Noah was first to \" check 1, check 2\"\n\n Guess who rescued Repunzel\n Climbing up her gold weave, then made her braid her hair like Alicia Keys\n\n Before EPMD met golddiggers fuckin for VISAs\n I was the first to pimp Jezebel and Mona Lisa\n And made em famous way before Eminem could flow\n Even ran trizz with JFK on Marilyn Monroe... Oh\n\n - Scratching\n \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"\n\n I'm so old school I was at the first supper serving soulfood\n And Arroz con Pollo', but I bet you had no clue\n That pilgrims were the first to name women after produce\n And that was the first Road Rules without toll booths\n Even when Adam and Eve sat by the weed tree\n I told Eve, \" Please don't tell him touch my weed leaves.\"\n But after I showed him Cypress Hill, he loved fire\n Then Eve left and became the first lady of Ruff Riders\n\n Had a horse carraige, sittin' on dubs, coastin'\n Smacked the thouroughbred in the ass and hit the 3-wheel motion\n Since a Frank and Jesse James shoot-out in the street\n Had a scoundrel c-walkin', shootin' bullets at his feet\n\n I had Michalangelo put down the horsehair brushes\n Started doing end to end burners on buses\n Trust this, put King Midas' touch to use\n He grabbed my bead necklace now I'm rockin truck jewels\n\n When lightin' struck Ben Frank's kite and sent currents through\n He was the first to electric boogaloo\n The wop, robot and helicopter on the pavement\n And in amazement, he was even Harlem-Shakin'\n\n - Scratching\n \" Blow the spot with some old school shit\" - Rah Digga on Talib Kweli's \" Down For The Count\"\n \" I'm so old school\"- Jay-Z off of \" Jigga That Nigga\"\n \" I'm old school like my dad is\"- J-Ro on De La Soul's \" My Writes\"\n \" True, that's old school\"- Mos Def on BlackStarr's \" Very Well\"\n \" I'll bust that old school boom bap all over this map\"- Declaime on Lootpacks's \" Episodes\" \" From the old school I consider loyally true\"- Big Pun off of \" You Came Up\"\n\n Transylvania was flossed out... but the facts have changed\n Like, me selling Dracula some platinum caps for his fangs\n Throwing daisy dukes upon that Mary Magdeline dame\n And she ran game, tricked me up out my platinum chain\n\n I had American Indians sending smoke signals with hydro\n Giving villages contact matching blunts with Tonto\n Spellin S.O.S. with my eyes closed\n Even battled Henry the Eighth with my rhyme flow\n And made his wives my hoes\n\n I told Jesus that GZA said sandles were feminine\n So he copped some shelltoes and suede Timberlands\n Remember when KRS ripped Shan? Do ya homework\n That was Amadeus playing the Bridge Is Over\n\n Moses parted two tables with a mixer and played great\n With his DJ crates. Before him, we played tapes\n I sipped fine wine with Einstein back in the days\n M. C. Square was his stage name and he rocked gray braids\n\n That was before we could sit and play, Kid N Play\n Or Nefertiti rocked the first flat-top fade\n But anyway... flip through ya history books\n You'll see about a thousand pictures of these infamous crooks\n Cunninlynguists!!\n\n \" Old School\"\n \" Word\"\n"},{"id":7513988,"name":"Nasty Filthy (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Nasty Filthy (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":212.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Word to the holes on my socks and my nose full of snot\nI got dope flows for shows but got no one to watch\nI got no dough for clothes but got hoes on my jock\nBut they don't know I'm broke cause I told em I'm not\nYo... Who said underground ain't supposed to be hot?\nI remember spinnin' records back before people stopped\nNow they spinnin CDs they download and get props\nLivin life for the ice like their soul's on the rocks\nBut ... down here shows we know how to rock\nAnd on wax WE RAP FOR FOOD like the old one we dropped\nLook at me! I been eatin Cherios out the box!\nI'm so skinny I get lost in my clothes when I walk!\nBut ... if you relate, press record on ya box\nGrab a pack of ramen noodles, let it boil in a pot\nAnd if you been here before you know not to talk\nCause I love the underground. It's the road to the top\n\nIt's just another story from the independent penniless\nMy D&D studio's a multitrack minidisk\nI'm bankrupt for life and past due on all my loans\nGot these bill collectors trying to reach me through studio phones\nHow can I stress less these damn fools be calling Freshchest\nSaying they gone put a freeze on my next test press\nGot an 97 BMW you might say it's fresh\nI got it brand new and I ain't made a single payment yet\nBe damn if they ass'll get it as long as I'm athletic\nBut with the Bad Luck I got Seven Years Of bad credit\nIf you see me wit' a TV in the back of my car\nDon't get twisted and start thinking I'mma spectacular star\nI got a TV in the front too it's packed in the car\nI'm taking it to da pawn shop but I won't be back for it tomorrow\nI got a ton of bills sittin here just chillin for at least a week\nOne day maybe I'll turn'em into Pete Rock beat CD's.\n\nEveryday stuck 'tween a rock and a hardplace (It's that nasty filthy underground)\nSo many obstacles making my heart race (It's that nasty filthy underground)\nIt's that nasty filthy underground\nThat naaaasty, filthy underground\n\nNow, which of you dude's a vet?\nWhen I could drop a double LP from a duel cassette\nNo MIDI to sport for... when I'm bringing the water\nI get the vocals straight off the tape of my Mini Recorder\nIn your city, with a label budget of 450\nEmpty Oatmeal box, for a kick that's so gritty\nA jansport with cds in it\nWith turntables on a floor model with the TV in it\nYou ain't all that cause you can afford DATs\nI got more wraps than Claus packs when rollin four tracks\nAnd I can only bag beats if them joints is mad cheap\nRecord right into the headphones - son that shit sounds mad street!\nYall take the PC way, let ya CD's play\nI rock a 120 Minute TDK\nHey! Looking for a way to the hype\n\"Welcome to the underground!\" Shit, that's just a day in the life\n\nRents due, in less than 2 weeks now\nLabel's calling, claiming they loving my street sound\n(They on the west coast!) iIm thinking I'm pacific sea bound\nDays passed, now they're saying that they'll catch me on the rebound\nNext day at my job, clock in and my boss watches\nMaking sure that I properly stack boxes\nThe tick-tock on the clock seems to be moving in slo-mo\nWaiting on 4-so I can go home and work on my promo\nI'm writing so many dope songs (but who's hearing 'em)\nDeacon hits the open mics (but who's cheerin' him)\nFeeling nasty, filthy, or any of those synonyms\n\"Without Me\" the games the same, I ain't Eminem\nI'm just a broke rapper, southern backpacker\nWatchin' all these wack niggaz and all of their cash stackup\nSo next Thursday when my paycheck is sent\nWill it be for that studio time or rent... i don't know yo\n\nEveryday stuck 'tween a rock and a hardplace (It's that nasty filthy underground)\nSo many obstacles making my heart race (It's that nasty filthy underground)\nIt's that nasty filthy underground\nThat naaaasty, filthy underground","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Nasty Filthy (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 212000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Word to the holes on my socks and my nose full of snot\n I got dope flows for shows but got no one to watch\n I got no dough for clothes but got hoes on my jock\n But they don't know I'm broke cause I told em I'm not\n Yo... Who said underground ain't supposed to be hot?\n I remember spinnin' records back before people stopped\n Now they spinnin CDs they download and get props\n Livin life for the ice like their soul's on the rocks\n But ... down here shows we know how to rock\n And on wax WE RAP FOR FOOD like the old one we dropped\n Look at me! I been eatin Cherios out the box!\n I'm so skinny I get lost in my clothes when I walk!\n But ... if you relate, press record on ya box\n Grab a pack of ramen noodles, let it boil in a pot\n And if you been here before you know not to talk\n Cause I love the underground. It's the road to the top\n\n It's just another story from the independent penniless\n My D&D studio's a multitrack minidisk\n I'm bankrupt for life and past due on all my loans\n Got these bill collectors trying to reach me through studio phones\n How can I stress less these damn fools be calling Freshchest\n Saying they gone put a freeze on my next test press\n Got an 97 BMW you might say it's fresh\n I got it brand new and I ain't made a single payment yet\n Be damn if they ass'll get it as long as I'm athletic\n But with the Bad Luck I got Seven Years Of bad credit\n If you see me wit' a TV in the back of my car\n Don't get twisted and start thinking I'mma spectacular star\n I got a TV in the front too it's packed in the car\n I'm taking it to da pawn shop but I won't be back for it tomorrow\n I got a ton of bills sittin here just chillin for at least a week\n One day maybe I'll turn'em into Pete Rock beat CD's.\n\n Everyday stuck 'tween a rock and a hardplace (It's that nasty filthy underground)\n So many obstacles making my heart race (It's that nasty filthy underground)\n It's that nasty filthy underground\n That naaaasty, filthy underground\n\n Now, which of you dude's a vet?\n When I could drop a double LP from a duel cassette\n No MIDI to sport for... when I'm bringing the water\n I get the vocals straight off the tape of my Mini Recorder\n In your city, with a label budget of 450\n Empty Oatmeal box, for a kick that's so gritty\n A jansport with cds in it\n With turntables on a floor model with the TV in it\n You ain't all that cause you can afford DATs\n I got more wraps than Claus packs when rollin four tracks\n And I can only bag beats if them joints is mad cheap\n Record right into the headphones - son that shit sounds mad street!\n Yall take the PC way, let ya CD's play\n I rock a 120 Minute TDK\n Hey! Looking for a way to the hype\n \"Welcome to the underground!\" Shit, that's just a day in the life\n\n Rents due, in less than 2 weeks now\n Label's calling, claiming they loving my street sound\n (They on the west coast!) iIm thinking I'm pacific sea bound\n Days passed, now they're saying that they'll catch me on the rebound\n Next day at my job, clock in and my boss watches\n Making sure that I properly stack boxes\n The tick-tock on the clock seems to be moving in slo-mo\n Waiting on 4-so I can go home and work on my promo\n I'm writing so many dope songs (but who's hearing 'em)\n Deacon hits the open mics (but who's cheerin' him)\n Feeling nasty, filthy, or any of those synonyms\n \"Without Me\" the games the same, I ain't Eminem\n I'm just a broke rapper, southern backpacker\n Watchin' all these wack niggaz and all of their cash stackup\n So next Thursday when my paycheck is sent\n Will it be for that studio time or rent... i don't know yo\n\n Everyday stuck 'tween a rock and a hardplace (It's that nasty filthy underground)\n So many obstacles making my heart race (It's that nasty filthy underground)\n It's that nasty filthy underground\n That naaaasty, filthy underground\n"},{"id":7517605,"name":"The South (Remix) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"The South (Remix) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":193.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\nCreepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\nLike a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\nCause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\nAnd we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\nVisitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\nBlowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\nHumidity floats in the breeze\nAnd this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\nLike GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\nCause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\nParties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\nBirds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\nAnd they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\nFollow me and any questions just ask the leaders\nAnd the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\nSippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\nSo come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\nTricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\nHospitality? we treat our company well\nFrom Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\nGals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\nNiggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\nYou try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\nYour trip'll last about as long as the XFL\nHere, the weather's hot\nStreets? we keep em blocked\nMardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\nFrom them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\nSwing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\nSo please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\nWelcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\nBirdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\nThe southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\nBut in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\nWe still got racist people with inflated egos\nGot foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\nRough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\nFiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\nStreets with much hype and some like to kill people\nAnd if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\nRemember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\nBut still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\nThe home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\nThe home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\nCadillac grills, battle rap skills\nThe home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\nGirls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\nThe home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\nThe home of everything under the mason dixie line","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: The South (Remix) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 193000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Aw yeah, welcome to the South everybody\n\n Creepin up outta the dirty south unexpectedly hittin ya head\n Like a stick of lead whippin you, flippin you outta bed\n Cause on my block the sidewalk can sizzle an egg\n And we as hip hop as a cripple with dreads missin a leg\n Visitors get addicted and don't wanna leave\n Blowin on trees from Kentucky to the Florida keys\n Humidity floats in the breeze\n And this is the only place where shorties can go to the beach and grow double D's\n Like GOOD JESUS. Let me rub some lotion on your cleavage\n Cause where we live summertime lasts about four seasons\n Parties are real loud. Car systems got clear sounds\n Birds fly here in winter. Chickens are here year round\n And they ass is meaner, the grass is greener and tap is cleaner\n Follow me and any questions just ask the leaders\n And the blunted genius of CunninLynguists spittin it clear\n Sippin beer on a postcard like, \"I wish you were here.\"\n So come on down, show and tell with some southern belles\n Tricks with treats you don't keep in a pumpkin pail\n Hospitality? we treat our company well\n From Kentucky bails of hay way down to Florida shells\n Gals with chunky tails, lookin' like something swell\n Niggaz and negrelles smoked out on country trails\n You try and visit actin' ignant and startin' hell\n Your trip'll last about as long as the XFL\n Here, the weather's hot\n Streets? we keep em blocked\n Mardi gras in every spot like we live in a land without some clocks\n From them Virginia docks, to Mississippi crops\n Swing through Atlanta where them switches be liftin' shocks\n So please leave all trash in the Herbie-Curbie\n Welcome to the dirty dirty, home of them purdy-girlies\n Birdies ready for flight, dawgs ready to bite\n The southern south-paw, but everything is all-right\n But in the dirty south everything ain't all peaceful\n We still got racist people with inflated egos\n Got foul cops shootin at niggas like we some free throws\n Rough nights, bug bites from Jumangi mosquitoes\n Fiends that hug pipes, drug life, pills and needles\n Streets with much hype and some like to kill people\n And if you don't want cops cuffin you up after your freak show\n Remember jail baits are developed so check IDs, yo\n But still the home of black eyed peas, collard greens, that soul food\n The home of southernplayalistic pimps lettin they hoes loose\n The home of that bluegrass, red clay, zephyrhills\n Cadillac grills, battle rap skills\n The home of Miami Bass, 808's, and spring breaks\n Girls with tank asses from VA to the Lando Lakes\n The home of gold fronts, home grown skunk, the home of sippin shine\n The home of everything under the mason dixie line\n"},{"id":7516209,"name":"Sunrise Sunset (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Sunrise Sunset (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":220.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Life is unusually beautiful\nBut sometimes I feel so unsuitable and it drowns out what's musical\nAnd then I just find myself drinkin' and thinkin'\nMaking no turns yet my signal is blinkin'\nFeeling bad cause no judge is giving me 10\nBreaking rules to get up out of the deep end\nOn the verge of having trouble begin\nDrama never leavin'\nHot! is the weather where I'm from\nHot! is situations that come\nHot! is how people get when\nThey're stuck in a pit, world not giving a shit\nLife is suppose to be beautiful, but it's a crucible\nTurning me into a person brutal who's\nPsychodependant on, money bitches drugs\nFunny business stuff, can I give it up?\nYes I love, to get paid, get laid\nGet drunk, get high, but then I hear kids cry\nSaying that they need a model to follow\nBut I still find a liquor bottle to hollow\n\nSitting on the dock of the bay wasting time\nInsecurities tingle racing up my spine\nFacing crime in an eye to eye, head to head\nThinking of how to get dough to bread, keep roses red\nI realize that my life is composed of\nThe actions I take combined with the feelings I hold but\nSometimes negativity molds a, heart from it's start is\nJust trying to get over\nBut you can't let it fold tha, soldier\nThat from it's inception, needn't lucks blessing from clovers\nCause when it fights, it strikes, it slices, it bites\nFrom morning to night, back through darkness to light\nIt's office is yo life, builds a fortress that's tight\nYou can call it Christ or whatever you like\nBut to ignore it is yo right, you deal your will\nYou reap what you sew, you till your field\nBut post battle, who will - heal - your shield\nSo many vices you can sacrifice, kill and grill\nCause you gotta see that the world will confuse you\nWith abused clues\nI flip through news\nAnd see that the world's a treasure chest of misuses jewels\nWho can't maintain... from sunrise, to sunset. they face pain\nTheir used to blue skies got grey stains\nAnd are surrounded by friends who got snake fangs\nBut you gotta block it\nDon't avoide it, destroy it, throw it up in a box and then lock it\nCut power when docs try to shock it\nCause that ain't the shit you should welcome your block with","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Sunrise Sunset (Instrumental) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 220000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Life is unusually beautiful\n But sometimes I feel so unsuitable and it drowns out what's musical\n And then I just find myself drinkin' and thinkin'\n Making no turns yet my signal is blinkin'\n Feeling bad cause no judge is giving me 10\n Breaking rules to get up out of the deep end\n On the verge of having trouble begin\n Drama never leavin'\n Hot! is the weather where I'm from\n Hot! is situations that come\n Hot! is how people get when\n They're stuck in a pit, world not giving a shit\n Life is suppose to be beautiful, but it's a crucible\n Turning me into a person brutal who's\n Psychodependant on, money bitches drugs\n Funny business stuff, can I give it up?\n Yes I love, to get paid, get laid\n Get drunk, get high, but then I hear kids cry\n Saying that they need a model to follow\n But I still find a liquor bottle to hollow\n\n Sitting on the dock of the bay wasting time\n Insecurities tingle racing up my spine\n Facing crime in an eye to eye, head to head\n Thinking of how to get dough to bread, keep roses red\n I realize that my life is composed of\n The actions I take combined with the feelings I hold but\n Sometimes negativity molds a, heart from it's start is\n Just trying to get over\n But you can't let it fold tha, soldier\n That from it's inception, needn't lucks blessing from clovers\n Cause when it fights, it strikes, it slices, it bites\n From morning to night, back through darkness to light\n It's office is yo life, builds a fortress that's tight\n You can call it Christ or whatever you like\n But to ignore it is yo right, you deal your will\n You reap what you sew, you till your field\n But post battle, who will - heal - your shield\n So many vices you can sacrifice, kill and grill\n Cause you gotta see that the world will confuse you\n With abused clues\n I flip through news\n And see that the world's a treasure chest of misuses jewels\n Who can't maintain... from sunrise, to sunset. they face pain\n Their used to blue skies got grey stains\n And are surrounded by friends who got snake fangs\n But you gotta block it\n Don't avoide it, destroy it, throw it up in a box and then lock it\n Cut power when docs try to shock it\n Cause that ain't the shit you should welcome your block with\n"},{"id":13491388,"name":"Dying Nation (Instrumental) (Deluxe Edition)","trackName":"Dying Nation (Instrumental) (Deluxe Edition)","artistName":"CunninLynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground (Deluxe Edition)","duration":201.96,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"There's an old saying in Tennesse, I know it's in Texas, it's probably in Tennesse\nthat says fool me once... shame on... shame on you.\nIf you fool me you can't fool me again.\"\n\nI live in a nation that relies on business and crime\nAnd the leaders are politician guys livin' a lie\nWho bullshit like everyone else for a nickel and dime\nAmerica ... just as corrupt as it is online\nUsing freedom and entertainment just to keep us sedated\nBut remember what the declaration of independence stated?\nAll men are equal and that's the way they're created?\nBut when that was written, black and white people were segregated\nAnd this country still breeds racism, just not as blatant\nTo call us the land of the free is overstatement\nCause ain't NOBODY free. We all being watched quietly\nNational security's an invasion of privacy\nDrug Trafficking, conspiracy, murder and piracy\nWhat America can't have they take silently\nSometimes violently, open up your eyes and see\nEven dirty money is supporting our economy\nIt's all backwards like negative split photography\n\nBut I guess that's the way it's got to be\nUnited we stand on this land and we do all crimes\n\nFacin' a Dyin' Nation?\n\"Facin' a dyin' nation. Listen to the retold lies\" I live in a nation where it ain't what's physical that fights us\nNow it's silent strikes from political insiders\nA black market government where being criminal is righteous\nRan by bloodlines that were dirty before Isis\nThe crisis has even spread to spiritual infestations\nConfessionals filled with sexual molestations\nProfessionals so set on capitalization\nThey don't notice their children freebasin' in their million\nDollar basements\nBabies having babies in the hood I grew up in\nHands are too small for the guns that they be bustin'\n\nSchools underfunded, graduates retain nothing\nOn Capitol Hll it's barely a topic of discussion\nKids like, why should I think about college\nWhen this hood situation is holding me hostage\nAnd even if I fought and bought the knowledge\nI'd prolly get shot 41 times by a cop over my wallet\n\nShiiiiit. So wherever you are\nDon't inhale the second hand smoke from its victory cigar\nMotivate yourself don't just stand on the side\nFacing a dying nation and listening to the new told lies\nSomebody dial 9-1-1\nIt's mass confusion, mass contusions\nAt last we losin' Uncle Sam to a mass of tumors\nAnd that's the rumor at least, it's soon to be seen\nIf its true that the beast is soon to decease\nCatchin' blood clots in the crude oil\n\nThat runs through his veins and up thru his brain\nIts tough to maintain\nIf he was low income he'd already been gone\nInsurance paperwork gettin handled by Enron\nAnd scandalous friends call to speak\nEven Bill O'Reilly's wrapped in a hospital bedsheet\nWith a pointed hat, where the ointment at?\nWax the taxpayers backside for a tax hike\nWoulda had a Catholic priest at his bedside\nBut they were too busy giving these Boy Scouts a leg ride\nTemperature stay high but no pain\nCus the presidents Hooked on Phonics and cocaine\nProduct of old age and Alzheimers disease\nMedical bills raised from all types of fees\nLooks to the American people to show love\nBut his Social Security ran out - pull the plug","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Dying Nation (Instrumental) (Deluxe Edition)\n artist: CunninLynguists\n album: Southernunderground (Deluxe Edition)\n duration_ms: 201960\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n \"There's an old saying in Tennesse, I know it's in Texas, it's probably in Tennesse\n that says fool me once... shame on... shame on you.\n If you fool me you can't fool me again.\"\n\n I live in a nation that relies on business and crime\n And the leaders are politician guys livin' a lie\n Who bullshit like everyone else for a nickel and dime\n America ... just as corrupt as it is online\n Using freedom and entertainment just to keep us sedated\n But remember what the declaration of independence stated?\n All men are equal and that's the way they're created?\n But when that was written, black and white people were segregated\n And this country still breeds racism, just not as blatant\n To call us the land of the free is overstatement\n Cause ain't NOBODY free. We all being watched quietly\n National security's an invasion of privacy\n Drug Trafficking, conspiracy, murder and piracy\n What America can't have they take silently\n Sometimes violently, open up your eyes and see\n Even dirty money is supporting our economy\n It's all backwards like negative split photography\n\n But I guess that's the way it's got to be\n United we stand on this land and we do all crimes\n\n Facin' a Dyin' Nation?\n \"Facin' a dyin' nation. Listen to the retold lies\" I live in a nation where it ain't what's physical that fights us\n Now it's silent strikes from political insiders\n A black market government where being criminal is righteous\n Ran by bloodlines that were dirty before Isis\n The crisis has even spread to spiritual infestations\n Confessionals filled with sexual molestations\n Professionals so set on capitalization\n They don't notice their children freebasin' in their million\n Dollar basements\n Babies having babies in the hood I grew up in\n Hands are too small for the guns that they be bustin'\n\n Schools underfunded, graduates retain nothing\n On Capitol Hll it's barely a topic of discussion\n Kids like, why should I think about college\n When this hood situation is holding me hostage\n And even if I fought and bought the knowledge\n I'd prolly get shot 41 times by a cop over my wallet\n\n Shiiiiit. So wherever you are\n Don't inhale the second hand smoke from its victory cigar\n Motivate yourself don't just stand on the side\n Facing a dying nation and listening to the new told lies\n Somebody dial 9-1-1\n It's mass confusion, mass contusions\n At last we losin' Uncle Sam to a mass of tumors\n And that's the rumor at least, it's soon to be seen\n If its true that the beast is soon to decease\n Catchin' blood clots in the crude oil\n\n That runs through his veins and up thru his brain\n Its tough to maintain\n If he was low income he'd already been gone\n Insurance paperwork gettin handled by Enron\n And scandalous friends call to speak\n Even Bill O'Reilly's wrapped in a hospital bedsheet\n With a pointed hat, where the ointment at?\n Wax the taxpayers backside for a tax hike\n Woulda had a Catholic priest at his bedside\n But they were too busy giving these Boy Scouts a leg ride\n Temperature stay high but no pain\n Cus the presidents Hooked on Phonics and cocaine\n Product of old age and Alzheimers disease\n Medical bills raised from all types of fees\n Looks to the American people to show love\n But his Social Security ran out - pull the plug\n"},{"id":38533553,"name":"Karma [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Karma [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground","duration":181.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n\n{Deacon tha Villan}\nWhat do I really want in this stage of my life\nI'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\nI'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\nStruggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\nTime's are strange, I claim to be the man\nLike I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n\nBut I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n\nCookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\nTrue, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\nShut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\nThe world ain't all money, suckas and violence\nQuit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\nShit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\nThat's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\nIt's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\nLife's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\nCause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\nGet bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\nButts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\nWishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sings my song\nCause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n\nI try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\nScared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\nBut I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\nHanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\nStrangled by pride, suffocated by lies\nShowin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n\nMissin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\nUsing her death to instill strength inside of vibes\nI don't want old things I done to boomerang\nFeelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\nIt get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\nCause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\nAnd go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\nAn un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\nActing insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\nKnowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\nBut I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\nFame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\nWalking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\nNot knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n\nYou know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\nBut I just keep choosin' wrong\nAnd movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\nYou know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\nBefore she sings my song\nCause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n\nKarma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.66]Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n[00:18.06]{Deacon tha Villan}\n[00:19.90]What do I really want in this stage of my life\n[00:22.52]I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n[00:25.28]I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n[00:27.98]Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n[00:29.76]Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n[00:32.53]Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n[00:35.23]But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n[00:37.94]Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n[00:40.67]True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n[00:42.45]Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n[00:45.29]The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n[00:47.98]Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n[00:50.63]Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n[00:52.46]That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n[00:56.00]It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n[00:57.87]Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n[01:02.48]Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n[01:03.31]Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n[01:05.17]Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n[01:07.81]Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n[01:09.65]You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n[01:14.25]But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n[01:16.95]And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[01:20.58]You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n[01:24.27]Before she sings my song\n[01:26.94]Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n[01:30.57]I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n[01:33.27]Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n[01:35.98]But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n[01:38.63]Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n[01:40.43]Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n[01:43.28]Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n[01:45.96]Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n[01:48.72]Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n[01:51.47]I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n[01:53.22]Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n[01:55.96]It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n[01:58.60]Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n[02:01.47]And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n[02:02.33]An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n[02:05.96]Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n[02:08.66]Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n[02:11.31]But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n[02:13.19]Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n[02:15.93]Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n[02:18.63]Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n[02:21.37]You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n[02:24.02]But I just keep choosin' wrong\n[02:27.63]And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[02:30.45]You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n[02:34.94]Before she sings my song\n[02:37.69]Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n[02:45.89]Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n[02:53.99]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Karma [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground\n duration_ms: 181000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n start_ms: 2660\n end_ms: 18060\n- text: '{Deacon tha Villan}'\n start_ms: 18060\n end_ms: 19900\n- text: What do I really want in this stage of my life\n start_ms: 19900\n end_ms: 22520\n- text: I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n start_ms: 22520\n end_ms: 25280\n- text: I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n start_ms: 25280\n end_ms: 27980\n- text: Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n start_ms: 27980\n end_ms: 29760\n- text: Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n start_ms: 29760\n end_ms: 32530\n- text: Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n start_ms: 32530\n end_ms: 35230\n- text: But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n start_ms: 35230\n end_ms: 37940\n- text: Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n start_ms: 37940\n end_ms: 40670\n- text: True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n start_ms: 40670\n end_ms: 42450\n- text: Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n start_ms: 42450\n end_ms: 45290\n- text: The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n start_ms: 45290\n end_ms: 47980\n- text: Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n start_ms: 47980\n end_ms: 50630\n- text: Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n start_ms: 50630\n end_ms: 52460\n- text: That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n start_ms: 52460\n end_ms: 56000\n- text: It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n start_ms: 56000\n end_ms: 57870\n- text: Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n start_ms: 57870\n end_ms: 62480\n- text: Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n start_ms: 62480\n end_ms: 63310\n- text: Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n start_ms: 63310\n end_ms: 65170\n- text: Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n start_ms: 65170\n end_ms: 67810\n- text: Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n start_ms: 67810\n end_ms: 69650\n- text: You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n start_ms: 69650\n end_ms: 74250\n- text: But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n start_ms: 74250\n end_ms: 76950\n- text: And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 76950\n end_ms: 80580\n- text: You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n start_ms: 80580\n end_ms: 84270\n- text: Before she sings my song\n start_ms: 84270\n end_ms: 86940\n- text: Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n start_ms: 86940\n end_ms: 90570\n- text: I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n start_ms: 90570\n end_ms: 93270\n- text: Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n start_ms: 93270\n end_ms: 95980\n- text: But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n start_ms: 95980\n end_ms: 98630\n- text: Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n start_ms: 98630\n end_ms: 100430\n- text: Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n start_ms: 100430\n end_ms: 103280\n- text: Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n start_ms: 103280\n end_ms: 105960\n- text: Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n start_ms: 105960\n end_ms: 108720\n- text: Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n start_ms: 108720\n end_ms: 111470\n- text: I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n start_ms: 111470\n end_ms: 113220\n- text: Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n start_ms: 113220\n end_ms: 115960\n- text: It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n start_ms: 115960\n end_ms: 118600\n- text: Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n start_ms: 118600\n end_ms: 121470\n- text: And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n start_ms: 121470\n end_ms: 122330\n- text: An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n start_ms: 122330\n end_ms: 125960\n- text: Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n start_ms: 125960\n end_ms: 128660\n- text: Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n start_ms: 128660\n end_ms: 131310\n- text: But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n start_ms: 131310\n end_ms: 133190\n- text: Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n start_ms: 133190\n end_ms: 135930\n- text: Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n start_ms: 135930\n end_ms: 138630\n- text: Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n start_ms: 138630\n end_ms: 141370\n- text: You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n start_ms: 141370\n end_ms: 144020\n- text: But I just keep choosin' wrong\n start_ms: 144020\n end_ms: 147630\n- text: And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 147630\n end_ms: 150450\n- text: You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n start_ms: 150450\n end_ms: 154940\n- text: Before she sings my song\n start_ms: 154940\n end_ms: 157690\n- text: Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n start_ms: 157690\n end_ms: 165890\n- text: Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n start_ms: 165890\n end_ms: 173990\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 173990\nplain: |-\n Karma's a double-edged sword (repeated & scratched)\n\n {Deacon tha Villan}\n What do I really want in this stage of my life\n I'd like a beautiful shorty that'll praise me right\n I'll praise her back though, I'm not a selfish bastard\n Struggle with big shit, but got this elf shit mastered\n Time's are strange, I claim to be the man\n Like I know God and can understand his ingenious plan\n\n But I'm just a simple Joe, livin' low, avoiding conflict\n\n Cookin' food for stereos, so feed your CD-ROM this\n True, I've struggled, spent days in mud puddles\n Shut up shit-talkers and made wanna-be thugs huddle\n The world ain't all money, suckas and violence\n Quit smoke from the fire-lips, protect your iris\n Shit's hard, especially hits to scar the soul\n That's why niggas drink and stress for cigars to roll\n It's like the farther we go, we cover less distance\n Life's a freak and it'll fuck you and all that you wanted is this dance\n Cause we really fragile but thinkin' we tough\n Get bowed in the heat of the battle but then we get cut\n Butts back on the scene of the saddle with our heads down\n Wishin' a meal and God would multiply this bread now\n\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong (choosin' wrong)\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sings my song\n Cause it may not be long (we ain't promised tomorrow)\n\n I try to help out my fellow man, sometimes get yellow hands\n Scared by darkness, searching for beauty like Cinderella's man\n But I'm no Prince Charming I form my share a folk\n Hanging my own self, bad decisions prepare the rope\n Strangled by pride, suffocated by lies\n Showin' my pearly whites to disguise my prize\n\n Missin' my sister, asking the Lord why did she die\n Using her death to instill strength inside of vibes\n I don't want old things I done to boomerang\n Feelin' low-low, for sho Deacon pursued by shame\n It get rough, and ain't enough to just think positive\n Cause when nobody's helping me out then its hard to give\n And go and robbin' shit, runnin' game on hoes\n An un-tame negro, runnin' cain for dough\n Acting insane, famous for bringing pain to foes\n Knowing that shit'll come back and it'll rain for sho\n But I'm still out, rain-slickers in the house\n Fame stickers in my mouth, cain sniffers on the couch\n Walking the world and the crowds, shiftin' through trash\n Not knowin' I'm feelin' like it cause I'm livin too fast\n\n You know I, come to the fork in the world so many times\n But I just keep choosin' wrong\n And movin' on (karma's a double edged-sword)\n You know I, need to choose the correct path, change the aftermath\n Before she sings my song\n Cause it may not be long (karma's a double edged-sword)\n\n Karma's a double edged-sword (repeated and scratched)\n"},{"id":4353157,"name":"Love Ain't (f. Tonedeff) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Love Ain't (f. Tonedeff) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I love you more than I had love you, baby\nI love you baby\nI love you more than I had love you baby\nI love you baby\nI love you more than I had love you baby\nI love you baby\nI love you more than\n\nLove ain't for the faint of heart\nStart training, this game is hard and arduous\nYou're gonna play in the dark, like when it rains in the park\nYou're hardly conscious of the stains and scars, enabling your partly clouded logic\nTo pay to impart bliss with arrangements of chocolates\nNow, you're working yourself out the same as when you strain' with a nautilus\nAnd you're willing to embrace pain facing sustained negative consequence\nIf nothing you say when in love is embedded with common sense\nThen, do you really regret when you've shredded your promises?\n\nNow, I've tested the waters, kid, sipped it, rippled the pond a bit\nVisits have been abolished, and this shit's killing my confidence\nIs this filling your conscience when distance is an accomplishment?\nIf you miss chicks when they're around, the phrase \"Let's quit\" isn't an option\nYou best fix whatever's wrong and just move on and get on with it\n'Cause, you'll catch bigger fish in the sea if you manage not to drown in it\nIt's sad, but proud or not, most your standards go down a notch\nWhen loneliness drinks at the bar you set too high\n\n'Cause, it isn't really my time, is it? Shit, I just found the watch\nBut hearing the bell toll for me twice a day, has me fearing my grandfather clock\nAnd I can't die without trying, my hands tied in knots\nKnowing that I'll never learn to brave the waves if I stand by the docks\nLove is hampered by thought, if you can handle the prospect of death, it's as massive a shock\nAnd to intellects, it's a fuckin' smack in the crotch\nIt's a cancer that rots your soul, tosses demons off of the road\nJust use caution and know, that, love ain't nothing but a loss of control\nOff then, we go\n\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out (yo)\n\nLove'll have you nervous, doing stupid shit on purpose\nBrain out of service, words slurred when you blurt shit\nStudderin', utterin' non-sensical shit in your verses\nFeeling like a shirtless four-breasted woman in a circus\nFurtherly trying to gap an unfillable void\nBecause of parents never transferring that unbillical joy\nSo girls create a false world of filling on boys\nExploited, guys playing with her heart like her feelings are toys\n\nBut when you have it, there's nothing like it, you get excited\nSeeking those who provide it, on phones talking to psychics\nSome fear it, spend their entire lives trying to fight it\nLiving in a confusing hayes, like they're grooving to Isaac\nIt ain't the end of the rainbow with a treasure chest and a map\nIt ain't easily learnable with definitions in tact\nIt can ride your train of thought and demolition your tracks\nHittin' and bullwhippin' you, leavin' them slits in your back\n\nBut I've been a lucky one, loving parents, loving friends\nBut I still spend alot of my life loving sin\nBut I ain't a genius on it, I can only pretend\n'Cause over all it's an emotion I cannot comprehend\nIt's love\n\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out\n\nLove ain't the basis for action\nIn a nation of addicts pacing and waiting for seconds of satisfaction\nWhere the word itself is only fashioned in fits of passion\nHand in hand with animalistic orgasmic reaction\nAnd the past isn't felt as a match made in hell\nBut rather its held as a latter day meld of common mistakes and nice intentions\n\nBut when false love retention is simply vice invention\nIt's only right to mention the fights you get in\nNightly visions of these Tina and Ike revisions\nSo what's love really got to do with it?\nFrom prude women to stool pigeons in soup kitchens\nThe truth isn't as eloquent so be intelligent\nGetting caught out of your element just for the hell of it's irrelevant\nAnd that word'll fit like a glove if you don't get right\nNow live your life for the love or stop\n\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out\nTraces of love, long ago\nThat didn't work out","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.33] I love you more than I had love you, baby\n[00:06.78] I love you baby\n[00:09.26] I love you more than I had love you baby\n[00:14.99] I love you baby\n[00:17.44] I love you more than I had love you baby\n[00:22.89] I love you baby\n[00:25.87] I love you more than\n[00:26.38] Love ain't for the faint of heart\n[00:28.18] Start training, this game is hard and arduous\n[00:29.81] You're gonna play in the dark, like when it rains in the park\n[00:31.93] You're hardly conscious of the stains and scars, enabling your partly clouded logic\n[00:35.18] To pay to impart bliss with arrangements of chocolates\n[00:37.27] Now, you're working yourself out the same as when you strain' with a nautilus\n[00:40.16] And you're willing to embrace pain facing sustained negative consequence\n[00:43.11] If nothing you say when in love is embedded with common sense\n[00:45.15] Then, do you really regret when you've shredded your promises?\n[00:46.82] Now, I've tested the waters, kid, sipped it, rippled the pond a bit\n[00:49.67] Visits have been abolished, and this shit's killing my confidence\n[00:52.02] Is this filling your conscience when distance is an accomplishment?\n[00:54.46] If you miss chicks when they're around, the phrase \"Let's quit\" isn't an option\n[00:57.28] You best fix whatever's wrong and just move on and get on with it\n[00:59.43] 'Cause, you'll catch bigger fish in the sea if you manage not to drown in it\n[01:02.60] It's sad, but proud or not, most your standards go down a notch\n[01:04.76] When loneliness drinks at the bar you set too high\n[01:06.97] 'Cause, it isn't really my time, is it? Shit, I just found the watch\n[01:09.32] But hearing the bell toll for me twice a day, has me fearing my grandfather clock\n[01:12.49] And I can't die without trying, my hands tied in knots\n[01:14.38] Knowing that I'll never learn to brave the waves if I stand by the docks\n[01:16.90] Love is hampered by thought, if you can handle the prospect of death, it's as massive a shock\n[01:20.42] And to intellects, it's a fuckin' smack in the crotch\n[01:22.30] It's a cancer that rots your soul, tosses demons off of the road\n[01:24.83] Just use caution and know, that, love ain't nothing but a loss of control\n[01:27.69] Off then, we go\n[01:28.46] Traces of love, long ago\n[01:35.02] That didn't work out\n[01:38.63] Traces of love, long ago\n[01:45.35] That didn't work out (yo)\n[01:47.50] Love'll have you nervous, doing stupid shit on purpose\n[01:50.32] Brain out of service, words slurred when you blurt shit\n[01:53.04] Studderin', utterin' non-sensical shit in your verses\n[01:55.50] Feeling like a shirtless four-breasted woman in a circus\n[01:58.05] Furtherly trying to gap an unfillable void\n[02:00.73] Because of parents never transferring that unbillical joy\n[02:03.17] So girls create a false world of filling on boys\n[02:05.82] Exploited, guys playing with her heart like her feelings are toys\n[02:08.24] But when you have it, there's nothing like it, you get excited\n[02:10.92] Seeking those who provide it, on phones talking to psychics\n[02:13.34] Some fear it, spend their entire lives trying to fight it\n[02:16.12] Living in a confusing hayes, like they're grooving to Isaac\n[02:18.55] It ain't the end of the rainbow with a treasure chest and a map\n[02:21.09] It ain't easily learnable with definitions in tact\n[02:23.50] It can ride your train of thought and demolition your tracks\n[02:26.08] Hittin' and bullwhippin' you, leavin' them slits in your back\n[02:28.59] But I've been a lucky one, loving parents, loving friends\n[02:31.55] But I still spend alot of my life loving sin\n[02:34.04] But I ain't a genius on it, I can only pretend\n[02:36.29] 'Cause over all it's an emotion I cannot comprehend\n[02:39.14] It's love\n[02:40.21] Traces of love, long ago\n[02:46.79] That didn't work out\n[02:50.36] Traces of love, long ago\n[02:56.72] That didn't work out\n[02:59.53] Love ain't the basis for action\n[03:01.45] In a nation of addicts pacing and waiting for seconds of satisfaction\n[03:04.79] Where the word itself is only fashioned in fits of passion\n[03:07.75] Hand in hand with animalistic orgasmic reaction\n[03:10.49] And the past isn't felt as a match made in hell\n[03:12.64] But rather its held as a latter day meld of common mistakes and nice intentions\n[03:17.25] But when false love retention is simply vice invention\n[03:20.30] It's only right to mention the fights you get in\n[03:22.40] Nightly visions of these Tina and Ike revisions\n[03:25.05] So what's love really got to do with it?\n[03:27.44] From prude women to stool pigeons in soup kitchens\n[03:30.41] The truth isn't as eloquent so be intelligent\n[03:32.84] Getting caught out of your element just for the hell of it's irrelevant\n[03:36.06] And that word'll fit like a glove if you don't get right\n[03:38.85] Now live your life for the love or stop\n[03:41.35] Traces of love, long ago\n[03:47.80] That didn't work out\n[03:51.36] Traces of love, long ago\n[03:58.21] That didn't work out\n[04:00.49] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Love Ain't (f. Tonedeff) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 241000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I love you more than I had love you, baby\n start_ms: 1330\n end_ms: 6780\n- text: I love you baby\n start_ms: 6780\n end_ms: 9260\n- text: I love you more than I had love you baby\n start_ms: 9260\n end_ms: 14990\n- text: I love you baby\n start_ms: 14990\n end_ms: 17440\n- text: I love you more than I had love you baby\n start_ms: 17440\n end_ms: 22890\n- text: I love you baby\n start_ms: 22890\n end_ms: 25870\n- text: I love you more than\n start_ms: 25870\n end_ms: 26380\n- text: Love ain't for the faint of heart\n start_ms: 26380\n end_ms: 28180\n- text: Start training, this game is hard and arduous\n start_ms: 28180\n end_ms: 29810\n- text: You're gonna play in the dark, like when it rains in the park\n start_ms: 29810\n end_ms: 31930\n- text: You're hardly conscious of the stains and scars, enabling your partly clouded logic\n start_ms: 31930\n end_ms: 35180\n- text: To pay to impart bliss with arrangements of chocolates\n start_ms: 35180\n end_ms: 37270\n- text: Now, you're working yourself out the same as when you strain' with a nautilus\n start_ms: 37270\n end_ms: 40160\n- text: And you're willing to embrace pain facing sustained negative consequence\n start_ms: 40160\n end_ms: 43110\n- text: If nothing you say when in love is embedded with common sense\n start_ms: 43110\n end_ms: 45150\n- text: Then, do you really regret when you've shredded your promises?\n start_ms: 45150\n end_ms: 46820\n- text: Now, I've tested the waters, kid, sipped it, rippled the pond a bit\n start_ms: 46820\n end_ms: 49670\n- text: Visits have been abolished, and this shit's killing my confidence\n start_ms: 49670\n end_ms: 52020\n- text: Is this filling your conscience when distance is an accomplishment?\n start_ms: 52020\n end_ms: 54460\n- text: If you miss chicks when they're around, the phrase \"Let's quit\" isn't an option\n start_ms: 54460\n end_ms: 57280\n- text: You best fix whatever's wrong and just move on and get on with it\n start_ms: 57280\n end_ms: 59430\n- text: '''Cause, you''ll catch bigger fish in the sea if you manage not to drown in it'\n start_ms: 59430\n end_ms: 62600\n- text: It's sad, but proud or not, most your standards go down a notch\n start_ms: 62600\n end_ms: 64760\n- text: When loneliness drinks at the bar you set too high\n start_ms: 64760\n end_ms: 66970\n- text: '''Cause, it isn''t really my time, is it? Shit, I just found the watch'\n start_ms: 66970\n end_ms: 69320\n- text: But hearing the bell toll for me twice a day, has me fearing my grandfather clock\n start_ms: 69320\n end_ms: 72490\n- text: And I can't die without trying, my hands tied in knots\n start_ms: 72490\n end_ms: 74380\n- text: Knowing that I'll never learn to brave the waves if I stand by the docks\n start_ms: 74380\n end_ms: 76900\n- text: Love is hampered by thought, if you can handle the prospect of death, it's as massive a shock\n start_ms: 76900\n end_ms: 80420\n- text: And to intellects, it's a fuckin' smack in the crotch\n start_ms: 80420\n end_ms: 82300\n- text: It's a cancer that rots your soul, tosses demons off of the road\n start_ms: 82300\n end_ms: 84830\n- text: Just use caution and know, that, love ain't nothing but a loss of control\n start_ms: 84830\n end_ms: 87690\n- text: Off then, we go\n start_ms: 87690\n end_ms: 88460\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 88460\n end_ms: 95020\n- text: That didn't work out\n start_ms: 95020\n end_ms: 98630\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 98630\n end_ms: 105350\n- text: That didn't work out (yo)\n start_ms: 105350\n end_ms: 107500\n- text: Love'll have you nervous, doing stupid shit on purpose\n start_ms: 107500\n end_ms: 110320\n- text: Brain out of service, words slurred when you blurt shit\n start_ms: 110320\n end_ms: 113040\n- text: Studderin', utterin' non-sensical shit in your verses\n start_ms: 113040\n end_ms: 115500\n- text: Feeling like a shirtless four-breasted woman in a circus\n start_ms: 115500\n end_ms: 118050\n- text: Furtherly trying to gap an unfillable void\n start_ms: 118050\n end_ms: 120730\n- text: Because of parents never transferring that unbillical joy\n start_ms: 120730\n end_ms: 123170\n- text: So girls create a false world of filling on boys\n start_ms: 123170\n end_ms: 125820\n- text: Exploited, guys playing with her heart like her feelings are toys\n start_ms: 125820\n end_ms: 128240\n- text: But when you have it, there's nothing like it, you get excited\n start_ms: 128240\n end_ms: 130920\n- text: Seeking those who provide it, on phones talking to psychics\n start_ms: 130920\n end_ms: 133340\n- text: Some fear it, spend their entire lives trying to fight it\n start_ms: 133340\n end_ms: 136120\n- text: Living in a confusing hayes, like they're grooving to Isaac\n start_ms: 136120\n end_ms: 138550\n- text: It ain't the end of the rainbow with a treasure chest and a map\n start_ms: 138550\n end_ms: 141090\n- text: It ain't easily learnable with definitions in tact\n start_ms: 141090\n end_ms: 143500\n- text: It can ride your train of thought and demolition your tracks\n start_ms: 143500\n end_ms: 146080\n- text: Hittin' and bullwhippin' you, leavin' them slits in your back\n start_ms: 146080\n end_ms: 148590\n- text: But I've been a lucky one, loving parents, loving friends\n start_ms: 148590\n end_ms: 151550\n- text: But I still spend alot of my life loving sin\n start_ms: 151550\n end_ms: 154040\n- text: But I ain't a genius on it, I can only pretend\n start_ms: 154040\n end_ms: 156290\n- text: '''Cause over all it''s an emotion I cannot comprehend'\n start_ms: 156290\n end_ms: 159140\n- text: It's love\n start_ms: 159140\n end_ms: 160210\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 160210\n end_ms: 166790\n- text: That didn't work out\n start_ms: 166790\n end_ms: 170360\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 170360\n end_ms: 176720\n- text: That didn't work out\n start_ms: 176720\n end_ms: 179530\n- text: Love ain't the basis for action\n start_ms: 179530\n end_ms: 181450\n- text: In a nation of addicts pacing and waiting for seconds of satisfaction\n start_ms: 181450\n end_ms: 184790\n- text: Where the word itself is only fashioned in fits of passion\n start_ms: 184790\n end_ms: 187750\n- text: Hand in hand with animalistic orgasmic reaction\n start_ms: 187750\n end_ms: 190490\n- text: And the past isn't felt as a match made in hell\n start_ms: 190490\n end_ms: 192640\n- text: But rather its held as a latter day meld of common mistakes and nice intentions\n start_ms: 192640\n end_ms: 197250\n- text: But when false love retention is simply vice invention\n start_ms: 197250\n end_ms: 200300\n- text: It's only right to mention the fights you get in\n start_ms: 200300\n end_ms: 202400\n- text: Nightly visions of these Tina and Ike revisions\n start_ms: 202400\n end_ms: 205050\n- text: So what's love really got to do with it?\n start_ms: 205050\n end_ms: 207440\n- text: From prude women to stool pigeons in soup kitchens\n start_ms: 207440\n end_ms: 210410\n- text: The truth isn't as eloquent so be intelligent\n start_ms: 210410\n end_ms: 212840\n- text: Getting caught out of your element just for the hell of it's irrelevant\n start_ms: 212840\n end_ms: 216060\n- text: And that word'll fit like a glove if you don't get right\n start_ms: 216060\n end_ms: 218850\n- text: Now live your life for the love or stop\n start_ms: 218850\n end_ms: 221350\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 221350\n end_ms: 227800\n- text: That didn't work out\n start_ms: 227800\n end_ms: 231360\n- text: Traces of love, long ago\n start_ms: 231360\n end_ms: 238210\n- text: That didn't work out\n start_ms: 238210\n end_ms: 240490\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 240490\nplain: |-\n I love you more than I had love you, baby\n I love you baby\n I love you more than I had love you baby\n I love you baby\n I love you more than I had love you baby\n I love you baby\n I love you more than\n\n Love ain't for the faint of heart\n Start training, this game is hard and arduous\n You're gonna play in the dark, like when it rains in the park\n You're hardly conscious of the stains and scars, enabling your partly clouded logic\n To pay to impart bliss with arrangements of chocolates\n Now, you're working yourself out the same as when you strain' with a nautilus\n And you're willing to embrace pain facing sustained negative consequence\n If nothing you say when in love is embedded with common sense\n Then, do you really regret when you've shredded your promises?\n\n Now, I've tested the waters, kid, sipped it, rippled the pond a bit\n Visits have been abolished, and this shit's killing my confidence\n Is this filling your conscience when distance is an accomplishment?\n If you miss chicks when they're around, the phrase \"Let's quit\" isn't an option\n You best fix whatever's wrong and just move on and get on with it\n 'Cause, you'll catch bigger fish in the sea if you manage not to drown in it\n It's sad, but proud or not, most your standards go down a notch\n When loneliness drinks at the bar you set too high\n\n 'Cause, it isn't really my time, is it? Shit, I just found the watch\n But hearing the bell toll for me twice a day, has me fearing my grandfather clock\n And I can't die without trying, my hands tied in knots\n Knowing that I'll never learn to brave the waves if I stand by the docks\n Love is hampered by thought, if you can handle the prospect of death, it's as massive a shock\n And to intellects, it's a fuckin' smack in the crotch\n It's a cancer that rots your soul, tosses demons off of the road\n Just use caution and know, that, love ain't nothing but a loss of control\n Off then, we go\n\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out (yo)\n\n Love'll have you nervous, doing stupid shit on purpose\n Brain out of service, words slurred when you blurt shit\n Studderin', utterin' non-sensical shit in your verses\n Feeling like a shirtless four-breasted woman in a circus\n Furtherly trying to gap an unfillable void\n Because of parents never transferring that unbillical joy\n So girls create a false world of filling on boys\n Exploited, guys playing with her heart like her feelings are toys\n\n But when you have it, there's nothing like it, you get excited\n Seeking those who provide it, on phones talking to psychics\n Some fear it, spend their entire lives trying to fight it\n Living in a confusing hayes, like they're grooving to Isaac\n It ain't the end of the rainbow with a treasure chest and a map\n It ain't easily learnable with definitions in tact\n It can ride your train of thought and demolition your tracks\n Hittin' and bullwhippin' you, leavin' them slits in your back\n\n But I've been a lucky one, loving parents, loving friends\n But I still spend alot of my life loving sin\n But I ain't a genius on it, I can only pretend\n 'Cause over all it's an emotion I cannot comprehend\n It's love\n\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out\n\n Love ain't the basis for action\n In a nation of addicts pacing and waiting for seconds of satisfaction\n Where the word itself is only fashioned in fits of passion\n Hand in hand with animalistic orgasmic reaction\n And the past isn't felt as a match made in hell\n But rather its held as a latter day meld of common mistakes and nice intentions\n\n But when false love retention is simply vice invention\n It's only right to mention the fights you get in\n Nightly visions of these Tina and Ike revisions\n So what's love really got to do with it?\n From prude women to stool pigeons in soup kitchens\n The truth isn't as eloquent so be intelligent\n Getting caught out of your element just for the hell of it's irrelevant\n And that word'll fit like a glove if you don't get right\n Now live your life for the love or stop\n\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out\n Traces of love, long ago\n That didn't work out\n"},{"id":1974909,"name":"Seasons (f. Masta Ace) [Deluxe Edition]","trackName":"Seasons (f. Masta Ace) [Deluxe Edition]","artistName":"Cunninlynguists","albumName":"Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]","duration":216.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Intro]\nOne two\nIt's Masta Ace, Cunninlyguists\nWe about to get into the seasons\nThe seasons of hip hop\nHow we gonna start it?\n[Masta Ace]\nAs we spring back to the past, it was all happening fast\nWe glorified coke and smoking crack in a glass\nWhen b-boys danced to the latest jam\nYou could say this man was the greatest fan\nWhen shoelaces were fat, and all the rapper's faces were black\nAnd light-brown, a box with the right sound was all you needed\nWhen it blast...they must move\nYou just proved you're hard like L in Krush Groove\nAnd songs started to drop - Ain't nobody start at the top\nBefore Preme (DJ Premier) learned the art of the chop\nThis is way before SP's...and MPC's\nAnd long before CD's and MP3's\nThe game started to bloom and blossom\nAnd masters ready for the cermony, like a groom in costume\nGrowth from the rain of the previous years\nI took notes from what I heard through these devious ears\nYeah\n[Deacon the Villian]\nAs Summer's heatwaves ascended in it's splendid manner\nGreen was flooding our scene, although the skin was tanner\n\"Fuck The Police!!\" jumpin over radio scanners\nIt was hot in the shade, wet paint all over the canvans\nFuck Vanilla Ice cones, we had T, Cube's Amerikka's Most\nAnd wanted that Chronic on the Left-Coast\nTalent pools were full and fresh for swimming\nBackstrokin' through Dark Sides and Illmatic beginnings\nThem lemonade stands would make you street platinum\nIt was 2 Live.. Florida crews caught heat for rappin\nBut free speech pollination kept bee's colonizing in hives\nAnd stung Delores Tucker right in her pride\nThe Tribes ocean splash was rising the tide\nStrictly 4 My Niggaz that were ready to die in the ride\nI wish the summer's vibe could've lasted forever\nTo bad we had to have a change in that weather.. that shit was beautiful\n[Chorus]\n\"Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\" - Lauryn Hill, \"How Many Mics\"\n\"Play me in the winter, play me in the summer, play in the autumn, any order\"- Ladybug, \"9th Wonder\"\n\"Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\" - Lauryn Hill, \"How Many Mics\"\n\"Trees bright and green turn yellow brown, autumn caught em\nSee all them leaves must fall down\" - Andre 3000, \"13th Floor/Growing Old\"\n[Kno]\nAs the East vs. West winds blew, causing two\nLegends to Fall like maple leaves from escalated beef\nAssumed that the worst was over\nTil these cats started wearing shiny costumes like the 31st of October\nThe weather's colder, but the word jacket/jack it\nIs what they did to people's styles, not what they covered they backs with\nTactics of the skill impaired\nNo Limit to what they'll do when the green is scarce\nSome be Thanksgiving for who they know, while others get jerked for loot\nCause gettin signed ain't a turkey shoot\nNo respect for the pilgrims who paved the way so you could rock that\nJust pop crap and Plymouth Rock-Rap\nBeyond gimmicks and fake plastic tits\nOutkast and Raekwon dropped fall classic discs\nBorn to Roll, so I'm taking you back to school days of autumn\nBefore the bottom dropped out in 2K\n[SOS]\nBy the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains\nWinter brought along platinum causing the ice age\nNo more Gold, no more YO! MTV RAPS\nNow we got R&B cats stealing classic rap tracks\nIn winter it's snowed in like the temperature's below ten\nCitizens open up shows for more snowmen\nScrawny boys rock bubblegooses to pose like grown men\nAnd you can catch freezer burn from women when they show skin\nJolly, fat, white men get paid when rap hits the shelves\nAnd artists themselves get treated like Elves\nMatter of fact, Santa's gotten so greedy when a rapper sells\nYou even need clearance to sample Jingle Bells\nWhat the hell! You need cells and 2 ways for chicks to bone ya?\nAnd so much ice on ya body that you can get pneumonia\nEven at the beaches of Daytona it's gotten colder\nBut it's about time for the cycle to start over (echo)\nHow we gonna start?","syncedLyrics":"[00:07.17] One two\n[00:08.95] It's Masta Ace, Cunninlynguists\n[00:13.40] We about to get into the seasons\n[00:16.23] The seasons of hip hop\n[00:18.85] How we gonna start it?\n[00:20.76] As we spring back to the past, it was all happening fast\n[00:23.49] We glorified coke and smoking crack in a glass\n[00:26.18] When b-boys danced to the latest jam\n[00:28.80] You could say this man was the greatest fan\n[00:31.59] When shoelaces were fat, and all the rapper's faces were black\n[00:34.27] And light-brown, a box with the right sound was all you needed\n[00:37.84] When it blast, they must move\n[00:39.69] You just proved you're hard like L in Krush Groove\n[00:42.39] And songs started to drop, Ain't nobody start at the top\n[00:45.03] Before Preme (DJ Premier) learned the art of the chop\n[00:46.80] This is way before SP's and MPC's\n[00:49.56] And long before CD's and MP3's\n[00:53.29] The game started to bloom and blossom\n[00:55.07] And masters ready for the cermony, like a groom in costume\n[00:57.79] Growth from the rain of the previous years\n[01:00.44] I took notes from what I heard through these devious ears\n[01:02.20] Yeah\n[01:03.11] As Summer's heatwaves ascended in it's splendid manner\n[01:05.90] Green was flooding our scene, although the skin was tanner\n[01:08.52] \"Fuck The Police!!\" jumpin over radio scanners\n[01:11.22] It was hot in the shade, wet paint all over the canvans\n[01:13.90] Fuck Vanilla Ice cones, we had T, Cube's Amerikka's Most\n[01:17.53] And wanted that Chronic on the Left-Coast\n[01:19.35] Talent pools were full and fresh for swimming\n[01:22.00] Backstrokin' through Dark Sides and Illmatic beginnings\n[01:24.82] Them lemonade stands would make you street platinum\n[01:27.52] It was 2 Live, Florida crews caught heat for rappin'\n[01:30.25] But free speech pollination kept bees colonizing in hives\n[01:33.82] And stung Delores Tucker right in her pride\n[01:35.66] The Tribes ocean splash was rising the tide\n[01:37.40] Strictly 4 My Niggas that were ready to die in the ride\n[01:40.19] I wish the summer's vibe could've lasted forever\n[01:42.85] To bad we had to have a change in that weather, that shit was beautiful\n[01:46.48] Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\n[01:51.89] Play me in the winter\n[01:52.75] Play me in the summer\n[01:54.54] Play in the autumn\n[01:55.44] Any order\n[01:57.24] Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\n[02:02.74] Trees bright and green turn yellow brown, autumn caught em\n[02:05.48] See all them leaves must fall down\n[02:07.24] 3: As the East vs. West winds blew, causing two\n[02:09.91] Legends to Fall like maple leaves from escalated beef\n[02:12.67] Assumed that the worst was over\n[02:14.43] Til these cats started wearing shiny costumes like the 31st of October\n[02:18.02] The weather's colder, but the word jacket/jack it\n[02:20.75] Is what they did to people's styles\n[02:22.56] Not what they covered they backs with\n[02:23.47] Tactics of the skill impaired\n[02:26.20] No Limit to what they'll do when the green is scarce\n[02:28.88] Some be Thanksgiving for who they know\n[02:30.63] While others get jerked for loot\n[02:32.42] Cause getting signed ain't a turkey shoot\n[02:34.28] No respect for the pilgrims who paved the way so you could rock that\n[02:37.88] Just pop crap and Plymouth Rock-Rap\n[02:39.60] Beyond gimmicks and fake plastic tits\n[02:42.31] Outkast and Raekwon dropped fall classic discs\n[02:45.16] Born to Roll, so I'm taking you back to school days of autumn\n[02:48.73] Before the bottom dropped out in 2K\n[02:49.66] By the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains\n[02:53.22] Winter brought along platinum causing the ice age\n[02:55.95] No more Gold, no more YO! MTV RAPS\n[02:57.75] Now we got R&B cats stealing classic rap tracks\n[03:00.48] In winter it's snowed in like the temperature's below ten\n[03:03.17] Citizens open up shows for more snowmen\n[03:05.86] Scrawny boys rock bubblegooses to pose like grown men\n[03:08.57] And you can catch freezer burn from women when they show skin\n[03:11.26] Jolly, fat, white men get paid when rap hits the shelves\n[03:14.82] And artists themselves get treated like Elves\n[03:16.61] Matter of fact, Santa's gotten so greedy when a rapper sells\n[03:20.35] You even need clearance to sample Jingle Bells\n[03:22.14] What the hell! You need cells and 2 ways for chicks to bone ya?\n[03:24.88] And so much ice on ya body that you can get pneumonia\n[03:27.55] Even at the beaches of Daytona it's gotten colder\n[03:30.29] But it's about time for the cycle to start over (echo)\n[03:32.92] How we gon' start it?\n[03:33.88] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Seasons (f. Masta Ace) [Deluxe Edition]\n artist: Cunninlynguists\n album: Southernunderground [Deluxe Edition]\n duration_ms: 216000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: One two\n start_ms: 7170\n end_ms: 8950\n- text: It's Masta Ace, Cunninlynguists\n start_ms: 8950\n end_ms: 13400\n- text: We about to get into the seasons\n start_ms: 13400\n end_ms: 16230\n- text: The seasons of hip hop\n start_ms: 16230\n end_ms: 18850\n- text: How we gonna start it?\n start_ms: 18850\n end_ms: 20760\n- text: As we spring back to the past, it was all happening fast\n start_ms: 20760\n end_ms: 23490\n- text: We glorified coke and smoking crack in a glass\n start_ms: 23490\n end_ms: 26180\n- text: When b-boys danced to the latest jam\n start_ms: 26180\n end_ms: 28800\n- text: You could say this man was the greatest fan\n start_ms: 28800\n end_ms: 31590\n- text: When shoelaces were fat, and all the rapper's faces were black\n start_ms: 31590\n end_ms: 34270\n- text: And light-brown, a box with the right sound was all you needed\n start_ms: 34270\n end_ms: 37840\n- text: When it blast, they must move\n start_ms: 37840\n end_ms: 39690\n- text: You just proved you're hard like L in Krush Groove\n start_ms: 39690\n end_ms: 42390\n- text: And songs started to drop, Ain't nobody start at the top\n start_ms: 42390\n end_ms: 45030\n- text: Before Preme (DJ Premier) learned the art of the chop\n start_ms: 45030\n end_ms: 46800\n- text: This is way before SP's and MPC's\n start_ms: 46800\n end_ms: 49560\n- text: And long before CD's and MP3's\n start_ms: 49560\n end_ms: 53290\n- text: The game started to bloom and blossom\n start_ms: 53290\n end_ms: 55070\n- text: And masters ready for the cermony, like a groom in costume\n start_ms: 55070\n end_ms: 57790\n- text: Growth from the rain of the previous years\n start_ms: 57790\n end_ms: 60440\n- text: I took notes from what I heard through these devious ears\n start_ms: 60440\n end_ms: 62200\n- text: Yeah\n start_ms: 62200\n end_ms: 63110\n- text: As Summer's heatwaves ascended in it's splendid manner\n start_ms: 63110\n end_ms: 65900\n- text: Green was flooding our scene, although the skin was tanner\n start_ms: 65900\n end_ms: 68520\n- text: '\"Fuck The Police!!\" jumpin over radio scanners'\n start_ms: 68520\n end_ms: 71220\n- text: It was hot in the shade, wet paint all over the canvans\n start_ms: 71220\n end_ms: 73900\n- text: Fuck Vanilla Ice cones, we had T, Cube's Amerikka's Most\n start_ms: 73900\n end_ms: 77530\n- text: And wanted that Chronic on the Left-Coast\n start_ms: 77530\n end_ms: 79350\n- text: Talent pools were full and fresh for swimming\n start_ms: 79350\n end_ms: 82000\n- text: Backstrokin' through Dark Sides and Illmatic beginnings\n start_ms: 82000\n end_ms: 84820\n- text: Them lemonade stands would make you street platinum\n start_ms: 84820\n end_ms: 87520\n- text: It was 2 Live, Florida crews caught heat for rappin'\n start_ms: 87520\n end_ms: 90250\n- text: But free speech pollination kept bees colonizing in hives\n start_ms: 90250\n end_ms: 93820\n- text: And stung Delores Tucker right in her pride\n start_ms: 93820\n end_ms: 95660\n- text: The Tribes ocean splash was rising the tide\n start_ms: 95660\n end_ms: 97400\n- text: Strictly 4 My Niggas that were ready to die in the ride\n start_ms: 97400\n end_ms: 100190\n- text: I wish the summer's vibe could've lasted forever\n start_ms: 100190\n end_ms: 102850\n- text: To bad we had to have a change in that weather, that shit was beautiful\n start_ms: 102850\n end_ms: 106480\n- text: Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\n start_ms: 106480\n end_ms: 111890\n- text: Play me in the winter\n start_ms: 111890\n end_ms: 112750\n- text: Play me in the summer\n start_ms: 112750\n end_ms: 114540\n- text: Play in the autumn\n start_ms: 114540\n end_ms: 115440\n- text: Any order\n start_ms: 115440\n end_ms: 117240\n- text: Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\n start_ms: 117240\n end_ms: 122740\n- text: Trees bright and green turn yellow brown, autumn caught em\n start_ms: 122740\n end_ms: 125480\n- text: See all them leaves must fall down\n start_ms: 125480\n end_ms: 127240\n- text: '3: As the East vs. West winds blew, causing two'\n start_ms: 127240\n end_ms: 129910\n- text: Legends to Fall like maple leaves from escalated beef\n start_ms: 129910\n end_ms: 132670\n- text: Assumed that the worst was over\n start_ms: 132670\n end_ms: 134430\n- text: Til these cats started wearing shiny costumes like the 31st of October\n start_ms: 134430\n end_ms: 138020\n- text: The weather's colder, but the word jacket/jack it\n start_ms: 138020\n end_ms: 140750\n- text: Is what they did to people's styles\n start_ms: 140750\n end_ms: 142560\n- text: Not what they covered they backs with\n start_ms: 142560\n end_ms: 143470\n- text: Tactics of the skill impaired\n start_ms: 143470\n end_ms: 146200\n- text: No Limit to what they'll do when the green is scarce\n start_ms: 146200\n end_ms: 148880\n- text: Some be Thanksgiving for who they know\n start_ms: 148880\n end_ms: 150630\n- text: While others get jerked for loot\n start_ms: 150630\n end_ms: 152420\n- text: Cause getting signed ain't a turkey shoot\n start_ms: 152420\n end_ms: 154280\n- text: No respect for the pilgrims who paved the way so you could rock that\n start_ms: 154280\n end_ms: 157880\n- text: Just pop crap and Plymouth Rock-Rap\n start_ms: 157880\n end_ms: 159600\n- text: Beyond gimmicks and fake plastic tits\n start_ms: 159600\n end_ms: 162310\n- text: Outkast and Raekwon dropped fall classic discs\n start_ms: 162310\n end_ms: 165160\n- text: Born to Roll, so I'm taking you back to school days of autumn\n start_ms: 165160\n end_ms: 168730\n- text: Before the bottom dropped out in 2K\n start_ms: 168730\n end_ms: 169660\n- text: By the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains\n start_ms: 169660\n end_ms: 173220\n- text: Winter brought along platinum causing the ice age\n start_ms: 173220\n end_ms: 175950\n- text: No more Gold, no more YO! MTV RAPS\n start_ms: 175950\n end_ms: 177750\n- text: Now we got R&B cats stealing classic rap tracks\n start_ms: 177750\n end_ms: 180480\n- text: In winter it's snowed in like the temperature's below ten\n start_ms: 180480\n end_ms: 183170\n- text: Citizens open up shows for more snowmen\n start_ms: 183170\n end_ms: 185860\n- text: Scrawny boys rock bubblegooses to pose like grown men\n start_ms: 185860\n end_ms: 188570\n- text: And you can catch freezer burn from women when they show skin\n start_ms: 188570\n end_ms: 191260\n- text: Jolly, fat, white men get paid when rap hits the shelves\n start_ms: 191260\n end_ms: 194820\n- text: And artists themselves get treated like Elves\n start_ms: 194820\n end_ms: 196610\n- text: Matter of fact, Santa's gotten so greedy when a rapper sells\n start_ms: 196610\n end_ms: 200350\n- text: You even need clearance to sample Jingle Bells\n start_ms: 200350\n end_ms: 202140\n- text: What the hell! You need cells and 2 ways for chicks to bone ya?\n start_ms: 202140\n end_ms: 204880\n- text: And so much ice on ya body that you can get pneumonia\n start_ms: 204880\n end_ms: 207550\n- text: Even at the beaches of Daytona it's gotten colder\n start_ms: 207550\n end_ms: 210290\n- text: But it's about time for the cycle to start over (echo)\n start_ms: 210290\n end_ms: 212920\n- text: How we gon' start it?\n start_ms: 212920\n end_ms: 213880\nplain: |-\n [Intro]\n One two\n It's Masta Ace, Cunninlyguists\n We about to get into the seasons\n The seasons of hip hop\n How we gonna start it?\n [Masta Ace]\n As we spring back to the past, it was all happening fast\n We glorified coke and smoking crack in a glass\n When b-boys danced to the latest jam\n You could say this man was the greatest fan\n When shoelaces were fat, and all the rapper's faces were black\n And light-brown, a box with the right sound was all you needed\n When it blast...they must move\n You just proved you're hard like L in Krush Groove\n And songs started to drop - Ain't nobody start at the top\n Before Preme (DJ Premier) learned the art of the chop\n This is way before SP's...and MPC's\n And long before CD's and MP3's\n The game started to bloom and blossom\n And masters ready for the cermony, like a groom in costume\n Growth from the rain of the previous years\n I took notes from what I heard through these devious ears\n Yeah\n [Deacon the Villian]\n As Summer's heatwaves ascended in it's splendid manner\n Green was flooding our scene, although the skin was tanner\n \"Fuck The Police!!\" jumpin over radio scanners\n It was hot in the shade, wet paint all over the canvans\n Fuck Vanilla Ice cones, we had T, Cube's Amerikka's Most\n And wanted that Chronic on the Left-Coast\n Talent pools were full and fresh for swimming\n Backstrokin' through Dark Sides and Illmatic beginnings\n Them lemonade stands would make you street platinum\n It was 2 Live.. Florida crews caught heat for rappin\n But free speech pollination kept bee's colonizing in hives\n And stung Delores Tucker right in her pride\n The Tribes ocean splash was rising the tide\n Strictly 4 My Niggaz that were ready to die in the ride\n I wish the summer's vibe could've lasted forever\n To bad we had to have a change in that weather.. that shit was beautiful\n [Chorus]\n \"Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\" - Lauryn Hill, \"How Many Mics\"\n \"Play me in the winter, play me in the summer, play in the autumn, any order\"- Ladybug, \"9th Wonder\"\n \"Seasons Change, mad things rearrange\" - Lauryn Hill, \"How Many Mics\"\n \"Trees bright and green turn yellow brown, autumn caught em\n See all them leaves must fall down\" - Andre 3000, \"13th Floor/Growing Old\"\n [Kno]\n As the East vs. West winds blew, causing two\n Legends to Fall like maple leaves from escalated beef\n Assumed that the worst was over\n Til these cats started wearing shiny costumes like the 31st of October\n The weather's colder, but the word jacket/jack it\n Is what they did to people's styles, not what they covered they backs with\n Tactics of the skill impaired\n No Limit to what they'll do when the green is scarce\n Some be Thanksgiving for who they know, while others get jerked for loot\n Cause gettin signed ain't a turkey shoot\n No respect for the pilgrims who paved the way so you could rock that\n Just pop crap and Plymouth Rock-Rap\n Beyond gimmicks and fake plastic tits\n Outkast and Raekwon dropped fall classic discs\n Born to Roll, so I'm taking you back to school days of autumn\n Before the bottom dropped out in 2K\n [SOS]\n By the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains\n Winter brought along platinum causing the ice age\n No more Gold, no more YO! MTV RAPS\n Now we got R&B cats stealing classic rap tracks\n In winter it's snowed in like the temperature's below ten\n Citizens open up shows for more snowmen\n Scrawny boys rock bubblegooses to pose like grown men\n And you can catch freezer burn from women when they show skin\n Jolly, fat, white men get paid when rap hits the shelves\n And artists themselves get treated like Elves\n Matter of fact, Santa's gotten so greedy when a rapper sells\n You even need clearance to sample Jingle Bells\n What the hell! You need cells and 2 ways for chicks to bone ya?\n And so much ice on ya body that you can get pneumonia\n Even at the beaches of Daytona it's gotten colder\n But it's about time for the cycle to start over (echo)\n How we gonna start?\n"}]