[{"id":35861349,"name":"New Jack City","trackName":"New Jack City","artistName":"DJ Kay Slay","albumName":"The Streetsweeper, Volume 1","duration":249.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Poster Boy, Fosterville\n\nKay Slay, Drama King\n\nFuck with the kid, gotta throw your moms over the bridge\nR.I.P., put the hawk to you over your ribs\nKeep thinkin' that the god is chillin'\nI'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter buildin'\nAnd it ain't no tellin' what I do\nThey may find your body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\nI'm the number one stunner when it come to the East\nIn the Jag with the .40 cal under the seat\nNigga, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n\nFriday come, you and you have your money out\nSon, my gun'll bring a Playboy bunny out\nSomebody gotta die, I'ma try your honey out\nSend her to ER with half her tummy out\nNo C-section, no infants comin' out\nShe can't have babies again\nMe and Kay gettin' money so it's feelin' like the '80s again\nHolla\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nAyo, you boys is silly, I'm next since Pac and Biggie\nAnd I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\nCatch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\nOn my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n\nLook, I clap millis, act Willy, you a chump\nOnly kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n\nSee, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\nAnd my watch iced out like Jacob store\nWhen you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\nWhat you got for your deal, I spent on Xbox\nKeep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\nI got rock and roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\nSo hey, it's your life involved, act like it is\nMy chain light gray like trashcan lids\nIf one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\nYou like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n\nWe just can't get along\n\n'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's, \"As-salamu alaykum\"\nTwo minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\nNiggas swear the product they makin' requires rockin' an apron\nThey liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\nNot that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\nThe hookers'll open they jaw for free\nFuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n\nWhen I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\nThe day the dick have your mother neck stuck one way\n\nI come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\nMake beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\nI be lookin' like a boss\n\nI pop at the hood on your snorkel '\nTil I have the fur lookin' like a scarf\n\nLookin' like I robbed him, tell cops I'm\nEasy to find like chicks in a nail shop\nHolla\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nAyo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\nWhere that shit at? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n\nGet crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\nFront if you want to and get slumped with the gun too\n\nGive me mine 'cause any time I could run through\nAnd put your brains on the mini-blinds in your sunroom\nTry run, dog, you could try hide, man\nBut when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\nI'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\nSay goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\nLook, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\nI screw waitresses that'll slip shit in your food\nI got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\nI got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n\nThe wait is over, I'ma take it over\nI'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda\nEasy\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nYo, I'm a D-Block nigga, I don't respect wack rhymes\nIf you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\nYou cowards don't want beef, why even start?\nY'all like dicks in a pool, none of y'all hard\nCome through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n\nHoldin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n\nY'all got questions? Holler at me, I'll tell you what's what\nLay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\nOn the real, niggas better chill\nThink your crew spittin' flames? I'll put your hot dogs on the grill\nIt gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n\nLike a nigga with no eyes, y'all not seein' me\nCall me a director, I'll give clips to your broad\nBullets is like gum how they stick to your jaw\nGo 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through your heart\nAnd leave you on the train tracks in a shoppin' cart\nThis ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\nYou incompetent fuck, I'm tryna get through to you\n\nThe gauge'll open your chest like Vicks\nHow y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas is dicks\nI don't wanna hear nothin' 'bout your coke and your toast\nLiars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to your throat\nMotherfucker","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.16] Poster Boy, Fosterville\n[00:04.77] Kay Slay, Drama King\n[00:06.81] Fuck with the kid, gotta throw your moms over the bridge\n[00:09.88] R.I.P., put the hawk to you over your ribs\n[00:12.15] Keep thinkin' that the god is chillin'\n[00:13.91] I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter buildin'\n[00:16.93] And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n[00:18.82] They may find your body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n[00:21.87] I'm the number one stunner when it come to the East\n[00:24.29] In the Jag with the .40 cal under the seat\n[00:26.69] Nigga, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n[00:29.49] Friday come, you and you have your money out\n[00:31.82] Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy bunny out\n[00:34.03] Somebody gotta die, I'ma try your honey out\n[00:36.68] Send her to ER with half her tummy out\n[00:39.15] No C-section, no infants comin' out\n[00:41.34] She can't have babies again\n[00:42.90] Me and Kay gettin' money so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n[00:46.09] Holla\n[00:50.32] We just can't get along\n[00:52.48] Ayo, you boys is silly, I'm next since Pac and Biggie\n[00:55.75] And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n[00:58.22] Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n[01:00.61] On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n[01:03.02] Look, I clap millis, act Willy, you a chump\n[01:05.59] Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n[01:08.07] See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n[01:10.25] And my watch iced out like Jacob store\n[01:12.74] When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n[01:15.11] What you got for your deal, I spent on Xbox\n[01:17.65] Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n[01:20.00] I got rock and roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n[01:22.48] So hey, it's your life involved, act like it is\n[01:24.96] My chain light gray like trashcan lids\n[01:27.48] If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n[01:29.64] You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n[01:36.48] We just can't get along\n[01:38.82] 'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's, \"As-salamu alaykum\"\n[01:42.25] Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n[01:44.66] Niggas swear the product they makin' requires rockin' an apron\n[01:47.11] They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n[01:49.05] Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n[01:50.85] 'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\n[01:53.83] The hookers'll open they jaw for free\n[01:55.78] Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n[01:58.84] When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n[02:01.09] The day the dick have your mother neck stuck one way\n[02:03.72] I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n[02:06.24] Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n[02:08.68] I be lookin' like a boss\n[02:10.05] I pop at the hood on your snorkel '\n[02:11.63] Til I have the fur lookin' like a scarf\n[02:13.73] Lookin' like I robbed him, tell cops I'm\n[02:15.68] Easy to find like chicks in a nail shop\n[02:17.55] Holla\n[02:22.55] We just can't get along\n[02:25.18] Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n[02:27.82] Where that shit at? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n[02:30.31] Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n[02:33.12] Front if you want to and get slumped with the gun too\n[02:35.74] Give me mine 'cause any time I could run through\n[02:37.66] And put your brains on the mini-blinds in your sunroom\n[02:40.52] Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n[02:42.82] But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n[02:45.33] I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n[02:47.51] Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n[02:50.17] Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n[02:51.92] I screw waitresses that'll slip shit in your food\n[02:55.13] I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n[02:57.43] I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n[03:00.08] The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n[03:02.45] I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda\n[03:04.89] Easy\n[03:08.54] We just can't get along\n[03:11.49] Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, I don't respect wack rhymes\n[03:13.97] If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n[03:16.38] You cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n[03:18.78] Y'all like dicks in a pool, none of y'all hard\n[03:21.20] Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n[03:24.13] Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n[03:25.97] Y'all got questions? Holler at me, I'll tell you what's what\n[03:28.46] Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n[03:30.96] On the real, niggas better chill\n[03:32.71] Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put your hot dogs on the grill\n[03:35.74] It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n[03:38.52] Like a nigga with no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n[03:40.77] Call me a director, I'll give clips to your broad\n[03:43.11] Bullets is like gum how they stick to your jaw\n[03:45.55] Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through your heart\n[03:47.78] And leave you on the train tracks in a shoppin' cart\n[03:50.23] This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n[03:53.19] You incompetent fuck, I'm tryna get through to you\n[03:55.65] The gauge'll open your chest like Vicks\n[03:57.66] How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas is dicks\n[04:00.01] I don't wanna hear nothin' 'bout your coke and your toast\n[04:02.48] Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to your throat\n[04:04.87] Motherfucker\n[04:08.99] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: New Jack City\n  artist: DJ Kay Slay\n  album: The Streetsweeper, Volume 1\n  duration_ms: 249000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Poster Boy, Fosterville\n  start_ms: 2160\n  end_ms: 4770\n- text: Kay Slay, Drama King\n  start_ms: 4770\n  end_ms: 6810\n- text: Fuck with the kid, gotta throw your moms over the bridge\n  start_ms: 6810\n  end_ms: 9880\n- text: R.I.P., put the hawk to you over your ribs\n  start_ms: 9880\n  end_ms: 12150\n- text: Keep thinkin' that the god is chillin'\n  start_ms: 12150\n  end_ms: 13910\n- text: I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter buildin'\n  start_ms: 13910\n  end_ms: 16930\n- text: And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n  start_ms: 16930\n  end_ms: 18820\n- text: They may find your body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n  start_ms: 18820\n  end_ms: 21870\n- text: I'm the number one stunner when it come to the East\n  start_ms: 21870\n  end_ms: 24290\n- text: In the Jag with the .40 cal under the seat\n  start_ms: 24290\n  end_ms: 26690\n- text: Nigga, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n  start_ms: 26690\n  end_ms: 29490\n- text: Friday come, you and you have your money out\n  start_ms: 29490\n  end_ms: 31820\n- text: Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy bunny out\n  start_ms: 31820\n  end_ms: 34030\n- text: Somebody gotta die, I'ma try your honey out\n  start_ms: 34030\n  end_ms: 36680\n- text: Send her to ER with half her tummy out\n  start_ms: 36680\n  end_ms: 39150\n- text: No C-section, no infants comin' out\n  start_ms: 39150\n  end_ms: 41340\n- text: She can't have babies again\n  start_ms: 41340\n  end_ms: 42900\n- text: Me and Kay gettin' money so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n  start_ms: 42900\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: Holla\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 50320\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 50320\n  end_ms: 52480\n- text: Ayo, you boys is silly, I'm next since Pac and Biggie\n  start_ms: 52480\n  end_ms: 55750\n- text: And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n  start_ms: 55750\n  end_ms: 58220\n- text: Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n  start_ms: 58220\n  end_ms: 60610\n- text: On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n  start_ms: 60610\n  end_ms: 63020\n- text: Look, I clap millis, act Willy, you a chump\n  start_ms: 63020\n  end_ms: 65590\n- text: Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n  start_ms: 65590\n  end_ms: 68070\n- text: See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n  start_ms: 68070\n  end_ms: 70250\n- text: And my watch iced out like Jacob store\n  start_ms: 70250\n  end_ms: 72740\n- text: When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n  start_ms: 72740\n  end_ms: 75110\n- text: What you got for your deal, I spent on Xbox\n  start_ms: 75110\n  end_ms: 77650\n- text: Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n  start_ms: 77650\n  end_ms: 80000\n- text: I got rock and roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n  start_ms: 80000\n  end_ms: 82480\n- text: So hey, it's your life involved, act like it is\n  start_ms: 82480\n  end_ms: 84960\n- text: My chain light gray like trashcan lids\n  start_ms: 84960\n  end_ms: 87480\n- text: If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n  start_ms: 87480\n  end_ms: 89640\n- text: You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n  start_ms: 89640\n  end_ms: 96480\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 96480\n  end_ms: 98820\n- text: '''Cause a lot of y''all are fakin'', one minute it''s, \"As-salamu alaykum\"'\n  start_ms: 98820\n  end_ms: 102250\n- text: Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n  start_ms: 102250\n  end_ms: 104660\n- text: Niggas swear the product they makin' requires rockin' an apron\n  start_ms: 104660\n  end_ms: 107110\n- text: They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n  start_ms: 107110\n  end_ms: 109050\n- text: Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n  start_ms: 109050\n  end_ms: 110850\n- text: '''Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl'\n  start_ms: 110850\n  end_ms: 113830\n- text: The hookers'll open they jaw for free\n  start_ms: 113830\n  end_ms: 115780\n- text: Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n  start_ms: 115780\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 121090\n- text: The day the dick have your mother neck stuck one way\n  start_ms: 121090\n  end_ms: 123720\n- text: I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n  start_ms: 123720\n  end_ms: 126240\n- text: Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n  start_ms: 126240\n  end_ms: 128680\n- text: I be lookin' like a boss\n  start_ms: 128680\n  end_ms: 130050\n- text: I pop at the hood on your snorkel '\n  start_ms: 130050\n  end_ms: 131630\n- text: Til I have the fur lookin' like a scarf\n  start_ms: 131630\n  end_ms: 133730\n- text: Lookin' like I robbed him, tell cops I'm\n  start_ms: 133730\n  end_ms: 135680\n- text: Easy to find like chicks in a nail shop\n  start_ms: 135680\n  end_ms: 137550\n- text: Holla\n  start_ms: 137550\n  end_ms: 142550\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 142550\n  end_ms: 145180\n- text: Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n  start_ms: 145180\n  end_ms: 147820\n- text: Where that shit at? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n  start_ms: 147820\n  end_ms: 150310\n- text: Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n  start_ms: 150310\n  end_ms: 153120\n- text: Front if you want to and get slumped with the gun too\n  start_ms: 153120\n  end_ms: 155740\n- text: Give me mine 'cause any time I could run through\n  start_ms: 155740\n  end_ms: 157660\n- text: And put your brains on the mini-blinds in your sunroom\n  start_ms: 157660\n  end_ms: 160520\n- text: Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n  start_ms: 160520\n  end_ms: 162820\n- text: But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n  start_ms: 162820\n  end_ms: 165330\n- text: I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n  start_ms: 165330\n  end_ms: 167510\n- text: Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n  start_ms: 167510\n  end_ms: 170170\n- text: Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n  start_ms: 170170\n  end_ms: 171920\n- text: I screw waitresses that'll slip shit in your food\n  start_ms: 171920\n  end_ms: 175130\n- text: I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n  start_ms: 175130\n  end_ms: 177430\n- text: I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n  start_ms: 177430\n  end_ms: 180080\n- text: The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n  start_ms: 180080\n  end_ms: 182450\n- text: I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda\n  start_ms: 182450\n  end_ms: 184890\n- text: Easy\n  start_ms: 184890\n  end_ms: 188540\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 188540\n  end_ms: 191490\n- text: Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, I don't respect wack rhymes\n  start_ms: 191490\n  end_ms: 193970\n- text: If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n  start_ms: 193970\n  end_ms: 196380\n- text: You cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n  start_ms: 196380\n  end_ms: 198780\n- text: Y'all like dicks in a pool, none of y'all hard\n  start_ms: 198780\n  end_ms: 201200\n- text: Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n  start_ms: 201200\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 205970\n- text: Y'all got questions? Holler at me, I'll tell you what's what\n  start_ms: 205970\n  end_ms: 208460\n- text: Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n  start_ms: 208460\n  end_ms: 210960\n- text: On the real, niggas better chill\n  start_ms: 210960\n  end_ms: 212710\n- text: Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put your hot dogs on the grill\n  start_ms: 212710\n  end_ms: 215740\n- text: It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n  start_ms: 215740\n  end_ms: 218520\n- text: Like a nigga with no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n  start_ms: 218520\n  end_ms: 220770\n- text: Call me a director, I'll give clips to your broad\n  start_ms: 220770\n  end_ms: 223110\n- text: Bullets is like gum how they stick to your jaw\n  start_ms: 223110\n  end_ms: 225550\n- text: Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through your heart\n  start_ms: 225550\n  end_ms: 227780\n- text: And leave you on the train tracks in a shoppin' cart\n  start_ms: 227780\n  end_ms: 230230\n- text: This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n  start_ms: 230230\n  end_ms: 233190\n- text: You incompetent fuck, I'm tryna get through to you\n  start_ms: 233190\n  end_ms: 235650\n- text: The gauge'll open your chest like Vicks\n  start_ms: 235650\n  end_ms: 237660\n- text: How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas is dicks\n  start_ms: 237660\n  end_ms: 240010\n- text: I don't wanna hear nothin' 'bout your coke and your toast\n  start_ms: 240010\n  end_ms: 242480\n- text: Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to your throat\n  start_ms: 242480\n  end_ms: 244870\n- text: Motherfucker\n  start_ms: 244870\n  end_ms: 248990\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 248990\nplain: |-\n  Poster Boy, Fosterville\n\n  Kay Slay, Drama King\n\n  Fuck with the kid, gotta throw your moms over the bridge\n  R.I.P., put the hawk to you over your ribs\n  Keep thinkin' that the god is chillin'\n  I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter buildin'\n  And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n  They may find your body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n  I'm the number one stunner when it come to the East\n  In the Jag with the .40 cal under the seat\n  Nigga, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n\n  Friday come, you and you have your money out\n  Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy bunny out\n  Somebody gotta die, I'ma try your honey out\n  Send her to ER with half her tummy out\n  No C-section, no infants comin' out\n  She can't have babies again\n  Me and Kay gettin' money so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n  Holla\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Ayo, you boys is silly, I'm next since Pac and Biggie\n  And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n  Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n  On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n\n  Look, I clap millis, act Willy, you a chump\n  Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n\n  See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n  And my watch iced out like Jacob store\n  When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n  What you got for your deal, I spent on Xbox\n  Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n  I got rock and roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n  So hey, it's your life involved, act like it is\n  My chain light gray like trashcan lids\n  If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n  You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's, \"As-salamu alaykum\"\n  Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n  Niggas swear the product they makin' requires rockin' an apron\n  They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n  Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n  'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\n  The hookers'll open they jaw for free\n  Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n\n  When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n  The day the dick have your mother neck stuck one way\n\n  I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n  Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n  I be lookin' like a boss\n\n  I pop at the hood on your snorkel '\n  Til I have the fur lookin' like a scarf\n\n  Lookin' like I robbed him, tell cops I'm\n  Easy to find like chicks in a nail shop\n  Holla\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n  Where that shit at? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n\n  Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n  Front if you want to and get slumped with the gun too\n\n  Give me mine 'cause any time I could run through\n  And put your brains on the mini-blinds in your sunroom\n  Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n  But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n  I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n  Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n  Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n  I screw waitresses that'll slip shit in your food\n  I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n  I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n\n  The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n  I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda\n  Easy\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, I don't respect wack rhymes\n  If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n  You cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n  Y'all like dicks in a pool, none of y'all hard\n  Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n\n  Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n\n  Y'all got questions? Holler at me, I'll tell you what's what\n  Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n  On the real, niggas better chill\n  Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put your hot dogs on the grill\n  It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n\n  Like a nigga with no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n  Call me a director, I'll give clips to your broad\n  Bullets is like gum how they stick to your jaw\n  Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through your heart\n  And leave you on the train tracks in a shoppin' cart\n  This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n  You incompetent fuck, I'm tryna get through to you\n\n  The gauge'll open your chest like Vicks\n  How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas is dicks\n  I don't wanna hear nothin' 'bout your coke and your toast\n  Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to your throat\n  Motherfucker\n"},{"id":36790770,"name":"New Jack City (feat. DJ Kay Slay, Posta Boy, Shells & Grafh)","trackName":"New Jack City (feat. DJ Kay Slay, Posta Boy, Shells & Grafh)","artistName":"DJ Kayslay","albumName":"The Streetsweeper Vol. 1","duration":249.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Poster Boy, Fosterville\n\nKay Slay, Drama King\n\nFuck wit' the kid, got ya mom's over the bridge\nR.I.P., put the hawk to ya over ya ribs\nKeep thinkin' that the God is chillin'\nI'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter Building\nAnd it ain't no tellin' what I do\nThey may find ya body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\nI'm the number one stunna when it come to the East\nIn the Jag wit' the .40 cal under the seat\nBitch, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n\nFriday come, you and you have ya money out\nSon, my gun'll bring a Playboy Bunny out\nSomebody gotta die, I'ma try ya honey out\nSend her to the E.R. with half her tummy out\nNo C-section, no infants comin' out\nShe can't have babies again\nMe and Kay gettin' money, so it's feelin' like the '80s again\nHolla!\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nAyo, you boys are silly, I'm next since 'Pac and Biggie\nAnd I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n\nCatch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n\nOn my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n\nLook, I clap millies, ask Willie, you a chump\nOnly kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n\nSee, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\nAnd my watch iced out like Jacob's store\nWhen you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\nWhat you got for your deal, I spent on X-Box\nKeep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\nI got rock 'n' roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\nSo hey, it's ya life involved, act like it is\nMy chain light gray like trash can lids\nIf one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\nYou like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n\nWe just can't get along\n\n'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's As-salamu alaykum\nTwo minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\nFuck the product they makin', Rick Ross rockin' the apron\nThey liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\nNot that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\nSo hookers'll open they jaw for free\n\nFuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\nWhen I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\nThe day that dick fucked ya mother, next up one way\nI come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\nMake beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\nI be lookin' like a boss, I pop at the hood\nOn ya snorkel 'til I had a fur lookin' like a scarf\n\nLookin' like I robbed 'em, tell cops I'm\nEasy to find like chinks in a nail shop\nHolla! Yo!\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nAyo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\nWhere that shit? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n\nGet crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\nFront if you want to and get slumped wit' the gun too\nGimme mine 'cause anytime I could run through\nAnd put ya brains on a mini-blinds in ya sunroom\nTry run, dog, you could try hide, man\nBut when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\nI'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\nSay goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\nLook, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\nI screw waitresses that'll slip ya the shit in food\n\nI got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\nI got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\nThe wait is over, I'ma take it over\nI'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda, easy\n\nWe just can't get along\n\nYo, I'm a D-Block nigga, niggas respect wack rhymes\nIf you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\nY'all cowards don't want beef, why even start?\nY'all like dick in the pool, none of y'all hard\nCome through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\nHoldin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n\nY'all got questions? Holla at me, I'll tell ya what's what\nLay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\nOn the real, nigga, nigga, chill\nThink your crew spittin' flames? I'll put ya hot dogs on the grill\nIt gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n\nIt's like if niggas had no eyes, y'all not seein' me\nCall me a director, I'll give clips to ya broad\nBullets is like gum how they stick to ya jaw\nGo 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through ya heart\nAnd leave you on the train tracks in a shopping cart\nThis ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\nYou incompetent fucks, I'm tryna get through to you\nThe gauge'll open ya chest like Vicks\nHow y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas be dicks\n\nAnd I ain't hear nothin' 'bout ya coke in ya toast\nLiars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to ya throat\nMotherfucker","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.16] Poster Boy, Fosterville\n[00:04.77] Kay Slay, Drama King\n[00:07.01] Fuck wit' the kid, got ya mom's over the bridge\n[00:09.88] R.I.P., put the hawk to ya over ya ribs\n[00:12.15] Keep thinkin' that the God is chillin'\n[00:13.91] I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter Building\n[00:16.93] And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n[00:18.82] They may find ya body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n[00:21.87] I'm the number one stunna when it come to the East\n[00:24.29] In the Jag wit' the .40 cal under the seat\n[00:26.59] Bitch, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n[00:29.49] Friday come, you and you have ya money out\n[00:31.82] Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy Bunny out\n[00:34.03] Somebody gotta die, I'ma try ya honey out\n[00:36.68] Send her to the E.R. with half her tummy out\n[00:39.15] No C-section, no infants comin' out\n[00:41.34] She can't have babies again\n[00:42.90] Me and Kay gettin' money, so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n[00:46.09] Holla!\n[00:50.32] We just can't get along\n[00:52.48] Ayo, you boys are silly, I'm next since 'Pac and Biggie\n[00:55.75] And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n[00:58.22] Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n[01:00.61] On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n[01:03.02] Look, I clap millies, ask Willie, you a chump\n[01:05.59] Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n[01:08.07] See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n[01:10.25] And my watch iced out like Jacob's store\n[01:12.74] When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n[01:15.11] What you got for your deal, I spent on X-Box\n[01:17.65] Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n[01:20.00] I got rock 'n' roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n[01:22.48] So hey, it's ya life involved, act like it is\n[01:24.96] My chain light gray like trash can lids\n[01:27.48] If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n[01:29.64] You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n[01:34.22] \n[01:36.48] We just can't get along\n[01:38.82] 'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's As-salamu alaykum\n[01:42.25] Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n[01:44.96] Fuck the product they makin', Rick Ross rockin' the apron\n[01:47.11] They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n[01:48.95] Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n[01:50.85] 'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\n[01:53.93] So hookers'll open they jaw for free\n[01:56.08] Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n[01:58.84] When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n[02:01.09] The day that dick fucked ya mother, next up one way\n[02:03.72] I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n[02:06.24] Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n[02:08.68] I be lookin' like a boss, I pop at the hood\n[02:10.95] On ya snorkel 'til I had a fur lookin' like a scarf\n[02:13.73] Lookin' like I robbed 'em, tell cops I'm\n[02:15.53] Easy to find like chinks in a nail shop\n[02:17.58] Holla! Yo!\n[02:22.45] We just can't get along\n[02:25.25] Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n[02:27.87] Where that shit? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n[02:30.42] Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n[02:33.11] Front if you want to and get slumped wit' the gun too\n[02:35.71] Gimme mine 'cause anytime I could run through\n[02:37.64] And put ya brains on a mini-blinds in ya sunroom\n[02:40.56] Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n[02:42.82] But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n[02:45.32] I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n[02:47.53] Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n[02:50.11] Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n[02:51.97] I screw waitresses that'll slip ya the shit in food\n[02:55.02] I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n[02:57.43] I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n[03:00.03] The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n[03:02.48] I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda, easy\n[03:08.55] We just can't get along\n[03:11.49] Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, niggas respect wack rhymes\n[03:13.94] If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n[03:16.39] Y'all cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n[03:18.77] Y'all like dick in the pool, none of y'all hard\n[03:21.28] Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n[03:24.18] Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n[03:25.90] Y'all got questions? Holla at me, I'll tell ya what's what\n[03:28.43] Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n[03:30.97] On the real, nigga, nigga, chill\n[03:32.76] Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put ya hot dogs on the grill\n[03:35.76] It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n[03:38.41] It's like if niggas had no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n[03:40.74] Call me a director, I'll give clips to ya broad\n[03:43.12] Bullets is like gum how they stick to ya jaw\n[03:45.57] Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through ya heart\n[03:47.71] And leave you on the train tracks in a shopping cart\n[03:50.25] This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n[03:53.18] You incompetent fucks, I'm tryna get through to you\n[03:55.63] The gauge'll open ya chest like Vicks\n[03:57.69] How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas be dicks\n[04:00.45] And I ain't hear nothin' 'bout ya coke in ya toast\n[04:02.46] Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to ya throat\n[04:04.81] Motherfucker\n[04:09.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: New Jack City (feat. DJ Kay Slay, Posta Boy, Shells & Grafh)\n  artist: DJ Kayslay\n  album: The Streetsweeper Vol. 1\n  duration_ms: 249000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Poster Boy, Fosterville\n  start_ms: 2160\n  end_ms: 4770\n- text: Kay Slay, Drama King\n  start_ms: 4770\n  end_ms: 7010\n- text: Fuck wit' the kid, got ya mom's over the bridge\n  start_ms: 7010\n  end_ms: 9880\n- text: R.I.P., put the hawk to ya over ya ribs\n  start_ms: 9880\n  end_ms: 12150\n- text: Keep thinkin' that the God is chillin'\n  start_ms: 12150\n  end_ms: 13910\n- text: I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter Building\n  start_ms: 13910\n  end_ms: 16930\n- text: And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n  start_ms: 16930\n  end_ms: 18820\n- text: They may find ya body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n  start_ms: 18820\n  end_ms: 21870\n- text: I'm the number one stunna when it come to the East\n  start_ms: 21870\n  end_ms: 24290\n- text: In the Jag wit' the .40 cal under the seat\n  start_ms: 24290\n  end_ms: 26590\n- text: Bitch, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n  start_ms: 26590\n  end_ms: 29490\n- text: Friday come, you and you have ya money out\n  start_ms: 29490\n  end_ms: 31820\n- text: Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy Bunny out\n  start_ms: 31820\n  end_ms: 34030\n- text: Somebody gotta die, I'ma try ya honey out\n  start_ms: 34030\n  end_ms: 36680\n- text: Send her to the E.R. with half her tummy out\n  start_ms: 36680\n  end_ms: 39150\n- text: No C-section, no infants comin' out\n  start_ms: 39150\n  end_ms: 41340\n- text: She can't have babies again\n  start_ms: 41340\n  end_ms: 42900\n- text: Me and Kay gettin' money, so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n  start_ms: 42900\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: Holla!\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 50320\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 50320\n  end_ms: 52480\n- text: Ayo, you boys are silly, I'm next since 'Pac and Biggie\n  start_ms: 52480\n  end_ms: 55750\n- text: And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n  start_ms: 55750\n  end_ms: 58220\n- text: Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n  start_ms: 58220\n  end_ms: 60610\n- text: On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n  start_ms: 60610\n  end_ms: 63020\n- text: Look, I clap millies, ask Willie, you a chump\n  start_ms: 63020\n  end_ms: 65590\n- text: Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n  start_ms: 65590\n  end_ms: 68070\n- text: See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n  start_ms: 68070\n  end_ms: 70250\n- text: And my watch iced out like Jacob's store\n  start_ms: 70250\n  end_ms: 72740\n- text: When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n  start_ms: 72740\n  end_ms: 75110\n- text: What you got for your deal, I spent on X-Box\n  start_ms: 75110\n  end_ms: 77650\n- text: Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n  start_ms: 77650\n  end_ms: 80000\n- text: I got rock 'n' roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n  start_ms: 80000\n  end_ms: 82480\n- text: So hey, it's ya life involved, act like it is\n  start_ms: 82480\n  end_ms: 84960\n- text: My chain light gray like trash can lids\n  start_ms: 84960\n  end_ms: 87480\n- text: If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n  start_ms: 87480\n  end_ms: 89640\n- text: You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n  start_ms: 89640\n  end_ms: 94220\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 94220\n  end_ms: 96480\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 96480\n  end_ms: 98820\n- text: '''Cause a lot of y''all are fakin'', one minute it''s As-salamu alaykum'\n  start_ms: 98820\n  end_ms: 102250\n- text: Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n  start_ms: 102250\n  end_ms: 104960\n- text: Fuck the product they makin', Rick Ross rockin' the apron\n  start_ms: 104960\n  end_ms: 107110\n- text: They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n  start_ms: 107110\n  end_ms: 108950\n- text: Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n  start_ms: 108950\n  end_ms: 110850\n- text: '''Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl'\n  start_ms: 110850\n  end_ms: 113930\n- text: So hookers'll open they jaw for free\n  start_ms: 113930\n  end_ms: 116080\n- text: Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n  start_ms: 116080\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 121090\n- text: The day that dick fucked ya mother, next up one way\n  start_ms: 121090\n  end_ms: 123720\n- text: I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n  start_ms: 123720\n  end_ms: 126240\n- text: Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n  start_ms: 126240\n  end_ms: 128680\n- text: I be lookin' like a boss, I pop at the hood\n  start_ms: 128680\n  end_ms: 130950\n- text: On ya snorkel 'til I had a fur lookin' like a scarf\n  start_ms: 130950\n  end_ms: 133730\n- text: Lookin' like I robbed 'em, tell cops I'm\n  start_ms: 133730\n  end_ms: 135530\n- text: Easy to find like chinks in a nail shop\n  start_ms: 135530\n  end_ms: 137580\n- text: Holla! Yo!\n  start_ms: 137580\n  end_ms: 142450\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 142450\n  end_ms: 145250\n- text: Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n  start_ms: 145250\n  end_ms: 147870\n- text: Where that shit? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n  start_ms: 147870\n  end_ms: 150420\n- text: Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n  start_ms: 150420\n  end_ms: 153110\n- text: Front if you want to and get slumped wit' the gun too\n  start_ms: 153110\n  end_ms: 155710\n- text: Gimme mine 'cause anytime I could run through\n  start_ms: 155710\n  end_ms: 157640\n- text: And put ya brains on a mini-blinds in ya sunroom\n  start_ms: 157640\n  end_ms: 160560\n- text: Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n  start_ms: 160560\n  end_ms: 162820\n- text: But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n  start_ms: 162820\n  end_ms: 165320\n- text: I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n  start_ms: 165320\n  end_ms: 167530\n- text: Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n  start_ms: 167530\n  end_ms: 170110\n- text: Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n  start_ms: 170110\n  end_ms: 171970\n- text: I screw waitresses that'll slip ya the shit in food\n  start_ms: 171970\n  end_ms: 175020\n- text: I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n  start_ms: 175020\n  end_ms: 177430\n- text: I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n  start_ms: 177430\n  end_ms: 180030\n- text: The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n  start_ms: 180030\n  end_ms: 182480\n- text: I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda, easy\n  start_ms: 182480\n  end_ms: 188550\n- text: We just can't get along\n  start_ms: 188550\n  end_ms: 191490\n- text: Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, niggas respect wack rhymes\n  start_ms: 191490\n  end_ms: 193940\n- text: If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n  start_ms: 193940\n  end_ms: 196390\n- text: Y'all cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n  start_ms: 196390\n  end_ms: 198770\n- text: Y'all like dick in the pool, none of y'all hard\n  start_ms: 198770\n  end_ms: 201280\n- text: Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n  start_ms: 201280\n  end_ms: 204180\n- text: Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n  start_ms: 204180\n  end_ms: 205900\n- text: Y'all got questions? Holla at me, I'll tell ya what's what\n  start_ms: 205900\n  end_ms: 208430\n- text: Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n  start_ms: 208430\n  end_ms: 210970\n- text: On the real, nigga, nigga, chill\n  start_ms: 210970\n  end_ms: 212760\n- text: Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put ya hot dogs on the grill\n  start_ms: 212760\n  end_ms: 215760\n- text: It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n  start_ms: 215760\n  end_ms: 218410\n- text: It's like if niggas had no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n  start_ms: 218410\n  end_ms: 220740\n- text: Call me a director, I'll give clips to ya broad\n  start_ms: 220740\n  end_ms: 223120\n- text: Bullets is like gum how they stick to ya jaw\n  start_ms: 223120\n  end_ms: 225570\n- text: Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through ya heart\n  start_ms: 225570\n  end_ms: 227710\n- text: And leave you on the train tracks in a shopping cart\n  start_ms: 227710\n  end_ms: 230250\n- text: This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n  start_ms: 230250\n  end_ms: 233180\n- text: You incompetent fucks, I'm tryna get through to you\n  start_ms: 233180\n  end_ms: 235630\n- text: The gauge'll open ya chest like Vicks\n  start_ms: 235630\n  end_ms: 237690\n- text: How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas be dicks\n  start_ms: 237690\n  end_ms: 240450\n- text: And I ain't hear nothin' 'bout ya coke in ya toast\n  start_ms: 240450\n  end_ms: 242460\n- text: Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to ya throat\n  start_ms: 242460\n  end_ms: 244810\n- text: Motherfucker\n  start_ms: 244810\n  end_ms: 249030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 249030\nplain: |-\n  Poster Boy, Fosterville\n\n  Kay Slay, Drama King\n\n  Fuck wit' the kid, got ya mom's over the bridge\n  R.I.P., put the hawk to ya over ya ribs\n  Keep thinkin' that the God is chillin'\n  I'm the reason the custies is comin' to the Carter Building\n  And it ain't no tellin' what I do\n  They may find ya body on 16th smellin' like a Jew\n  I'm the number one stunna when it come to the East\n  In the Jag wit' the .40 cal under the seat\n  Bitch, this is my block, name a nigga who run me out\n\n  Friday come, you and you have ya money out\n  Son, my gun'll bring a Playboy Bunny out\n  Somebody gotta die, I'ma try ya honey out\n  Send her to the E.R. with half her tummy out\n  No C-section, no infants comin' out\n  She can't have babies again\n  Me and Kay gettin' money, so it's feelin' like the '80s again\n  Holla!\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Ayo, you boys are silly, I'm next since 'Pac and Biggie\n  And I'm 'bout major figures like Dutch and Gillie\n\n  Catch Shells All-Star Weekend down in Philly\n\n  On my hip pack heat like a bowl of chili\n\n  Look, I clap millies, ask Willie, you a chump\n  Only kid in the hood with elevators in his truck\n\n  See, I flash bucks, rock all black doors\n  And my watch iced out like Jacob's store\n  When you boys gon' learn I got this game locked?\n  What you got for your deal, I spent on X-Box\n  Keep frontin' like you hungry, I'ma feed you a biscuit\n  I got rock 'n' roll bullets, leave lips like biscuits\n  So hey, it's ya life involved, act like it is\n  My chain light gray like trash can lids\n  If one of y'all take my chain, none of y'all live\n  You like, \"I ain't do it, Shells,\" one of y'all did\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  'Cause a lot of y'all are fakin', one minute it's As-salamu alaykum\n  Two minutes later it's, \"Where's my salami bacon?\"\n  Fuck the product they makin', Rick Ross rockin' the apron\n  They liars 'cause it's Betty Crocker they bakin'\n  Not that I'm sayin' that I cook 'cause I don't\n  'Cause I keep it as raw as you seen it before it was put in the bowl\n  So hookers'll open they jaw for free\n\n  Fuck bein' a gentleman, your girlfriend open the door for me\n  When I pimp walk the beat, you shut up one day\n  The day that dick fucked ya mother, next up one way\n  I come up one ways drunk pushin' a Porsche\n  Make beef and I'm cookin' the sauce, gravy\n  I be lookin' like a boss, I pop at the hood\n  On ya snorkel 'til I had a fur lookin' like a scarf\n\n  Lookin' like I robbed 'em, tell cops I'm\n  Easy to find like chinks in a nail shop\n  Holla! Yo!\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Ayo, get back, get back 'fore I click-clack, click-clack\n  Where that shit? Get that 'fore I bust shots\n\n  Get crunk if you want to, drunk if you want to\n  Front if you want to and get slumped wit' the gun too\n  Gimme mine 'cause anytime I could run through\n  And put ya brains on a mini-blinds in ya sunroom\n  Try run, dog, you could try hide, man\n  But when I bust the gun, dog, you gon' die, man\n  I'm drinkin' rum, dog, and I'm gettin' high, man\n  Say goodbye, man, or a prayer, amen\n  Look, it ain't hard to get at you dudes\n  I screw waitresses that'll slip ya the shit in food\n\n  I got yay for sale and I got crazy shells\n  I got it locked from Illadel' to ATL\n  The wait is over, I'ma take it over\n  I'ma bubble like vinegar and bakin' soda, easy\n\n  We just can't get along\n\n  Yo, I'm a D-Block nigga, niggas respect wack rhymes\n  If you had a gat and a clock, you couldn't kill time\n  Y'all cowards don't want beef, why even start?\n  Y'all like dick in the pool, none of y'all hard\n  Come through in the spit white 330 with a mean birdie\n  Holdin' my hammer 'cause she know it's dirty\n\n  Y'all got questions? Holla at me, I'll tell ya what's what\n  Lay you on your back in your trunks and really see what's up\n  On the real, nigga, nigga, chill\n  Think your crew spittin' flames? I'll put ya hot dogs on the grill\n  It gotta be a conspiracy if niggas ain't feelin' me\n\n  It's like if niggas had no eyes, y'all not seein' me\n  Call me a director, I'll give clips to ya broad\n  Bullets is like gum how they stick to ya jaw\n  Go 'head, call the NARCs, I'll put a hole through ya heart\n  And leave you on the train tracks in a shopping cart\n  This ain't just beats and bars, it's things I'll do to you\n  You incompetent fucks, I'm tryna get through to you\n  The gauge'll open ya chest like Vicks\n  How y'all went from bein' soft to hard? Niggas be dicks\n\n  And I ain't hear nothin' 'bout ya coke in ya toast\n  Liars get shot in the tongue, I'll put the MAC to ya throat\n  Motherfucker\n"}]