[{"id":29786475,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"Boot Camp Clik","albumName":"DJ Clue-The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: Boot Camp Clik\n  album: DJ Clue-The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":26330958,"name":"Come On {Boot Camp Clik}","trackName":"Come On {Boot Camp Clik}","artistName":"Dj Clue","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.195875,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On {Boot Camp Clik}\n  artist: Dj Clue\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272196\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm 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126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":11370173,"name":"Come On (feat. Boot Camp Clik)","trackName":"Come On (feat. Boot Camp Clik)","artistName":"DJ Clue?","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On (feat. Boot Camp Clik)\n  artist: DJ Clue?\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":38844128,"name":"Come On (feat. Boot Camp Click)","trackName":"Come On (feat. Boot Camp Click)","artistName":"DJ Clue","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On (feat. Boot Camp Click)\n  artist: DJ Clue\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":36815730,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue? Boot Camp Clik","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue? Boot Camp Clik\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":35455536,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":274.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 274000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":35455545,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":267.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 267000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":35455538,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":269.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 269000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":35455542,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":268.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 268000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":35455534,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":271.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue, Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 271000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":10535875,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"Clue?, DJ feat. Boot Camp Clik","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: Clue?, DJ feat. Boot Camp Clik\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":10535876,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue? feat. Boot Camp Clik","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue? feat. Boot Camp Clik\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"},{"id":38516135,"name":"Come On","trackName":"Come On","artistName":"DJ Clue feat. Boot Camp Click","albumName":"The Professional","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Come on (BCC)\nCome on (MFC)\nCome on (BCC)\nCome on (YEAH!)\n\nAiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\nEverybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\nSo watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\nOr heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\nSee me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\nTwo piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\nThen see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\nSpliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\nSurrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\nPlus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n(Your Rapper Card?)\nYeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\nPlus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\nBuckshot rock knots wit fists\nNiggas stay high while I rock wit this\nMobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\nToo close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\nI'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\nRun from the gun claps, run three laps\nPerhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\nBuckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\nNow this is what I act like when I smoke on black\nStay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\nFrom the, street Bible or the street Quran\nFake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\nI'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\nYou can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\nBut still the bomb\n\nIt's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\nDon't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\nMy grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\nWhile my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\nTek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\nDeep impact steez been like a chromed out six\nWit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\nY'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\nI keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\nOne in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\nSo while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\nThe amount we flip depends on what we get\nIt's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\nMy mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\nOn they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\nLook, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\nCome on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\nCome on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\nCome on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\nCome on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\nYo the set I claim is the set that bang\nTo the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\nLidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\nFirst the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\nLike my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\nRockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\nOr watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\nI put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\nFor real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\nLidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\nSo if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\nYou a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\nFake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\nRuck reign supreme, aim the steam\nWhen the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\nMaybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\nForce, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\nOff lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\nMonkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\nThe last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\nQuincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\nCornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\nStill bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\nGet it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\nBoot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\nDemonstrate, spectacular venacular\nSmackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\nSnatchin' ya, off the street like police\nNext week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\nDon't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\nTally on, be gone, as we rally strong\nSee me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\nTerrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\nCallin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\nWe the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\nSayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\nCarnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\nMy mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\nThe crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\nDJ Clue, The Professional\nPart One, you know how we do it\nWord up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\nMy nigga B.I.G. word up\nAnd we out, till next time\nFor all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\nAight then","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.85] Come on (BCC)\n[00:03.14] Come on (MFC)\n[00:05.32] Come on (BCC)\n[00:07.84] Come on (YEAH!)\n[00:10.00] Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n[00:12.10] Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n[00:14.91] So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n[00:17.83] Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n[00:20.03] See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n[00:22.59] Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n[00:25.39] Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n[00:27.17] Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n[00:31.45] Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n[00:32.60] Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n[00:34.84] (Your Rapper Card?)\n[00:35.75] Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n[00:37.26] Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n[00:40.10] Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n[00:42.58] Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n[00:45.00] Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n[00:47.50] Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n[00:49.87] I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n[00:52.14] Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n[00:54.80] Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n[00:56.99] Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n[00:59.64] Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n[01:01.61] Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n[01:04.47] From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n[01:06.60] Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n[01:09.28] I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n[01:13.80] You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n[01:15.85] But still the bomb\n[01:16.60] It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n[01:18.52] Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n[01:21.50] My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n[01:23.72] While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n[01:26.23] Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n[01:28.61] Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n[01:31.13] Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n[01:33.95] Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n[01:36.00] I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n[01:38.53] One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n[01:41.03] So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n[01:43.55] The amount we flip depends on what we get\n[01:45.62] It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n[01:48.46] My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n[01:50.61] On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n[01:52.49] Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n[01:56.36] Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n[01:58.48] Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n[02:00.10] Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n[02:03.35] Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n[02:06.55] Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n[02:08.75] To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n[02:12.05] Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n[02:14.14] First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n[02:16.29] Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n[02:19.24] Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n[02:21.42] Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n[02:23.88] I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n[02:26.22] For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n[02:28.72] 'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n[02:31.15] Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n[02:33.76] So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n[02:36.58] You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n[02:38.69] Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n[02:41.48] Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n[02:43.42] When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n[02:45.92] Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n[02:48.78] Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n[02:51.28] Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n[02:53.60] Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n[02:56.41] The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n[02:58.56] Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n[03:00.93] Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n[03:03.86] Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n[03:05.93] Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n[03:08.66] Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n[03:11.15] Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n[03:13.59] Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n[03:15.88] Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n[03:18.37] Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n[03:20.47] Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n[03:23.27] Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n[03:26.03] See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n[03:27.91] Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n[03:30.06] Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n[03:32.85] We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n[03:35.29] Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n[03:37.86] Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n[03:40.69] My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n[03:42.82] The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n[03:44.98] DJ Clue, The Professional\n[03:51.64] Part One, you know how we do it\n[03:57.98] Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n[04:04.85] My nigga B.I.G. word up\n[04:09.93] And we out, till next time\n[04:17.57] For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n[04:26.07] Aight then\n[04:28.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Come On\n  artist: DJ Clue feat. Boot Camp Click\n  album: The Professional\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 850\n  end_ms: 3140\n- text: Come on (MFC)\n  start_ms: 3140\n  end_ms: 5320\n- text: Come on (BCC)\n  start_ms: 5320\n  end_ms: 7840\n- text: Come on (YEAH!)\n  start_ms: 7840\n  end_ms: 10000\n- text: Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  start_ms: 10000\n  end_ms: 12100\n- text: Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  start_ms: 12100\n  end_ms: 14910\n- text: So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  start_ms: 14910\n  end_ms: 17830\n- text: Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  start_ms: 17830\n  end_ms: 20030\n- text: See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  start_ms: 20030\n  end_ms: 22590\n- text: Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  start_ms: 22590\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 27170\n- text: Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  start_ms: 27170\n  end_ms: 31450\n- text: Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  start_ms: 31450\n  end_ms: 32600\n- text: Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  start_ms: 32600\n  end_ms: 34840\n- text: (Your Rapper Card?)\n  start_ms: 34840\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 37260\n- text: Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n  start_ms: 37260\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45000\n- text: Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  start_ms: 45000\n  end_ms: 47500\n- text: Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  start_ms: 47500\n  end_ms: 49870\n- text: I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  start_ms: 49870\n  end_ms: 52140\n- text: Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  start_ms: 52140\n  end_ms: 54800\n- text: Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  start_ms: 54800\n  end_ms: 56990\n- text: Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  start_ms: 56990\n  end_ms: 59640\n- text: Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  start_ms: 59640\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 66600\n- text: Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  start_ms: 66600\n  end_ms: 69280\n- text: I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  start_ms: 69280\n  end_ms: 73800\n- text: You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  start_ms: 73800\n  end_ms: 75850\n- text: But still the bomb\n  start_ms: 75850\n  end_ms: 76600\n- text: It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  start_ms: 76600\n  end_ms: 78520\n- text: Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  start_ms: 78520\n  end_ms: 81500\n- text: My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  start_ms: 81500\n  end_ms: 83720\n- text: While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  start_ms: 83720\n  end_ms: 86230\n- text: Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  start_ms: 86230\n  end_ms: 88610\n- text: Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  start_ms: 88610\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93950\n- text: Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  start_ms: 93950\n  end_ms: 96000\n- text: I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  start_ms: 96000\n  end_ms: 98530\n- text: One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  start_ms: 98530\n  end_ms: 101030\n- text: So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  start_ms: 101030\n  end_ms: 103550\n- text: The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  start_ms: 103550\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 108460\n- text: My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  start_ms: 108460\n  end_ms: 110610\n- text: On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  start_ms: 110610\n  end_ms: 112490\n- text: Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n  start_ms: 112490\n  end_ms: 116360\n- text: Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  start_ms: 116360\n  end_ms: 118480\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  start_ms: 118480\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 123350\n- text: Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n  start_ms: 123350\n  end_ms: 126550\n- text: Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  start_ms: 126550\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 132050\n- text: Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  start_ms: 132050\n  end_ms: 134140\n- text: First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  start_ms: 134140\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141420\n- text: Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  start_ms: 141420\n  end_ms: 143880\n- text: I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  start_ms: 143880\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148720\n- text: '''Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked'\n  start_ms: 148720\n  end_ms: 151150\n- text: Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  start_ms: 151150\n  end_ms: 153760\n- text: So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n  start_ms: 153760\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 158690\n- text: Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  start_ms: 158690\n  end_ms: 161480\n- text: Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  start_ms: 161480\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165920\n- text: Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  start_ms: 165920\n  end_ms: 168780\n- text: Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  start_ms: 168780\n  end_ms: 171280\n- text: Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  start_ms: 171280\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176410\n- text: The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  start_ms: 176410\n  end_ms: 178560\n- text: Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  start_ms: 178560\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 183860\n- text: Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n  start_ms: 183860\n  end_ms: 185930\n- text: Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  start_ms: 185930\n  end_ms: 188660\n- text: Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  start_ms: 188660\n  end_ms: 191150\n- text: Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  start_ms: 191150\n  end_ms: 193590\n- text: Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  start_ms: 193590\n  end_ms: 195880\n- text: Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  start_ms: 195880\n  end_ms: 198370\n- text: Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  start_ms: 198370\n  end_ms: 200470\n- text: Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  start_ms: 200470\n  end_ms: 203270\n- text: Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  start_ms: 203270\n  end_ms: 206030\n- text: See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  start_ms: 206030\n  end_ms: 207910\n- text: Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  start_ms: 207910\n  end_ms: 210060\n- text: Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  start_ms: 210060\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215290\n- text: Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  start_ms: 215290\n  end_ms: 217860\n- text: Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  start_ms: 217860\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222820\n- text: The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n  start_ms: 222820\n  end_ms: 224980\n- text: DJ Clue, The Professional\n  start_ms: 224980\n  end_ms: 231640\n- text: Part One, you know how we do it\n  start_ms: 231640\n  end_ms: 237980\n- text: Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  start_ms: 237980\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 249930\n- text: And we out, till next time\n  start_ms: 249930\n  end_ms: 257570\n- text: For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  start_ms: 257570\n  end_ms: 266070\n- text: Aight then\n  start_ms: 266070\n  end_ms: 268250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268250\nplain: |-\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (MFC)\n  Come on (BCC)\n  Come on (YEAH!)\n\n  Aiyyo Rock, Rock, Rock\n  Everybody say Rock, not Lou from suburbs to PJ's\n  So watch ya hootchie, groupies get dudes beat up\n  Or heat is leave the scene and BLAZE to get ya fleece stuck\n  See me on the streets 'bra, I'll break yo' teeth up and take yo' beeper\n  Two piece your man and let Big Noc put him in a sleeper\n  Then see ya, catch me in a club on a wall\n  Spliff in my hand, big-booty broad winin' on my balls\n  Surrounded my thugs, maybe two or two times ten\n  Plus the other nine cats, my Rapper Card got in\n  (Your Rapper Card?)\n  Yeah my Rapper Card, it works in live sessions\n  Plus barbecues, hoes, clubs, weed spots ecetera\n\n  Buckshot rock knots wit fists\n  Niggas stay high while I rock wit this\n  Mobb on y'all niggas like The Infamous\n  Too close wit the dillinger, two shots I don't miss\n  I'm wiggin' out while I'm diggin' out backs\n  Run from the gun claps, run three laps\n  Perhaps, them niggas you sent to carjack\n  Buckshot got stopped in they tracks wit macs\n  Now this is what I act like when I smoke on black\n  Stay high wit the lazy-eye, bomb wit facts\n  From the, street Bible or the street Quran\n  Fake thugs ride the dick when my shit comes on\n  I'm a nappy little nigga, still goin' strong\n  You can eat a dick while I eat a thong (CLUE!)\n  But still the bomb\n\n  It's the wave-king, rock the two tone Wallees strip-ons\n  Don't wanna end up miss-on, then play your positi-on\n  My grimy Brooklyn niggas stay flippin' ya chick\n  While my crew from New Jerus stay vickin' ya whips\n  Tek is the shit, ain't nobody spittin' like this\n  Deep impact steez been like a chromed out six\n  Wit the AMG kit, Ericsson wit the chip\n  Y'all stockin-cap copy-cats, get off the dick\n  I keep the livin' quarter held down wit two nines\n  One in the bed, one in the bathroom at all times\n  So while I'm takin' a shit, I'm at route and plan a hit\n  The amount we flip depends on what we get\n  It's like a Wall Street trick, dirty money move quick\n  My mans wear stones you can tip the scales wit\n  On they ears and wrists alone for every deaf one's bone\n  Look, ain't no tellin' how many gats I've thrown\n\n  Come on (yo for all my dogs gettin' wild)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the shorties on the prowl)\n  Come on (yo yo for all the soldiers on the streets)\n  Come on (yo yo it's yo' time to eat)\n\n  Yo the set I claim is the set that bang\n  To the muthafuckin' end, I be doin my thing (yeah)\n  Lidu Rock, know the name in New York we G stackin'\n  First the Bloods and the Crips, now bitches is carjackin'\n  Like my nigga Craig and em say, \"Fuck that shit!\"\n  Rockin' shines in the 'Ville, you better tuck that shit\n  Or watch yo' step baby, watch where you walk\n  I put a slug up in yo' mouth so that ass won't talk\n  For real son, now we got mad cops on the block\n  'Cause we hold it down for Doc and I keep my heat cocked\n  Lidu Rock, what the fuck I know y'all niggas mad at me\n  So if you rep for yours go 'head take a stab at me, muthafucker\n\n  You a many style copy-cat, bendy mile? stockin cap\n  Fake nigga from the projects who ain't got a gat\n  Ruck reign supreme, aim the steam\n  When the gun click, your ass shit navy beans\n  Maybe these, niggas ain't ready for the Magnum\n  Force, the Holocaust, balls I just dragged them\n  Off lost in the sauce and of course I'm glad them\n  Monkey niggas don't fuck wit the Ruck 'cause they fags, son\n  The last one, to step to Sean P caught a bad one\n  Quincy toes tagged em after somebody stabbed em\n  Cornball niggas wit drugs thinkin they weight great\n  Still bummin' money for stoges and a Drakes cake\n\n  Get it straight, y'all niggas fuckin' wit some heavyweights\n  Boot Camp-ion champions on point like paper mates\n  Demonstrate, spectacular venacular\n  Smackin' ya upside the back of ya head wit a spatula\n  Snatchin' ya, off the street like police\n  Next week, they find your body washin' up on the beach\n  Don't speak if you ain't at norm (ain't got nuttin to say fool)\n  Tally on, be gone, as we rally strong\n  See me in Brook-lyn where crooks be armed\n  Terrorial disputes leave you in memorial suites\n  Callin' your troops, I shoot straight stay in ya place\n  We the type you love to hate 'cause we stay in your face\n  Sayin' our grace before we put our hands in our plates\n  Carnivorous lyricist, niggas fish like fillet\n  My mind spray like a murderer's nine spray\n  The crime way, get mine three-hundred sixty-five day\n\n  DJ Clue, The Professional\n  Part One, you know how we do it\n  Word up, rest in peace my nigga Donnie Brasco\n  My nigga B.I.G. word up\n  And we out, till next time\n  For all parties Big Skane 800-570-3657\n  Aight then\n"}]