[{"id":1609774,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":29840641,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":336.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 336000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":30048206,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Offical Intelligence: Mosaik Thump","duration":331.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Offical Intelligence: Mosaik Thump'\n  duration_ms: 331000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":32700369,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Mosaic Thump","duration":331.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 331000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":32071056,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence_ Mosaic Thump","duration":29.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence_ Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 29000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":18255284,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De la Soul","albumName":"AOI: Mosaic Thump","duration":330.971375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De la Soul\n  album: 'AOI: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 330971\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":16058525,"name":"my writes","trackName":"my writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"art official intelligence","duration":330.402917,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: my writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: art official intelligence\n  duration_ms: 330403\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":22492233,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":324.04,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 324040\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":11324657,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Att Official Intelligence","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Att Official Intelligence\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":12977738,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump","duration":329.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence∶ Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 329000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":33792450,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intellegence","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intellegence\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":25934006,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence Mosaic Thump CD","duration":330.92,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Art Official Intelligence Mosaic Thump CD\n  duration_ms: 330920\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":39760471,"name":"MY WRITES","trackName":"MY WRITES","artistName":"DE LA SOUL","albumName":"ART OFFICAL INTELLIGENCE: MOSAIC THUMP","duration":18.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-Lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MY WRITES\n  artist: DE LA SOUL\n  album: 'ART OFFICAL INTELLIGENCE: MOSAIC THUMP'\n  duration_ms: 18112\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -Lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":30015646,"name":"My writes","trackName":"My writes","artistName":"De La Soul & Tash and XZibit","albumName":"Mosaic Thump","duration":331.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Say what?\nSay what?\nSay what?\nYo, De La Soul\nLikwit MCs\nShit is the Xzibit, right?\nYo, we ain't playing\nNew millennium\n\nYo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since '89\nSo y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\nF- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from SC\nYou best believe there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\nMy - gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\nStep into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\nGetting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\nAnd go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\nI keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\nYou makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\nI did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\nThe situation is drastic\nBut see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\n\nGrind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross, it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' you\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the - up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My writes\n  artist: De La Soul & Tash and XZibit\n  album: Mosaic Thump\n  duration_ms: 331000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Yo, De La Soul\n  Likwit MCs\n  Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  Yo, we ain't playing\n  New millennium\n\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  The situation is drastic\n  But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n\n  Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' you\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the - up\n"},{"id":17169584,"name":"My Writes - featuring Tash & J","trackName":"My Writes - featuring Tash & J","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mos","duration":329.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes - featuring Tash & J\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mos'\n  duration_ms: 329000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":37392894,"name":"My Writes (feat. j-rd)","trackName":"My Writes (feat. j-rd)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"AOI: Mosaic Thump","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Say what?\nSay what?\nSay what?\nYo, De La Soul\nLikwit MCs\nShit is the Xzibit, right?\nYo, we ain't playing\nNew millennium\n\nYo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since '89\nSo y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\nF- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from SC\nYou best believe there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\nMy - gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\nStep into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\nGetting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\nAnd go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\nI keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\nYou makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\nI did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\nThe situation is drastic\nBut see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\n\nGrind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross, it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' you\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the - up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes (feat. j-rd)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: 'AOI: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 330412\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Yo, De La Soul\n  Likwit MCs\n  Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  Yo, we ain't playing\n  New millennium\n\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  The situation is drastic\n  But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n\n  Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' you\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the - up\n"},{"id":30941229,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"Xzibit feat. De La Soul, Tha Alkaholics","albumName":"You Better Believe It!","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Say what?\nSay what?\nSay what?\nYo, De La Soul\nLikwit MCs\nShit is the Xzibit, right?\nYo, we ain't playing\nNew millennium\n\nYo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since '89\nSo y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\nF- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from SC\nYou best believe there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\nMy - gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\nStep into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\nGetting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\nAnd go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\nI keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\nYou makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\nI did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\nThe situation is drastic\nBut see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\n\nGrind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross, it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' you\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the - up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: Xzibit feat. De La Soul, Tha Alkaholics\n  album: You Better Believe It!\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Yo, De La Soul\n  Likwit MCs\n  Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  Yo, we ain't playing\n  New millennium\n\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  The situation is drastic\n  But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n\n  Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' you\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the - up\n"},{"id":21194315,"name":"my writes","trackName":"my writes","artistName":"de la soul feat. tash & j-rd","albumName":"art official intelligence","duration":330.417458,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Say what?\nSay what?\nSay what?\nYo, De La Soul\nLikwit MCs\nShit is the Xzibit, right?\nYo, we ain't playing\nNew millennium\n\nYo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since '89\nSo y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\nF- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from SC\nYou best believe there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\nMy - gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\nStep into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\nGetting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\nAnd go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\nI keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\nYou makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\nI did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\nThe situation is drastic\nBut see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\n\nGrind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross, it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' you\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uh)\nWhat you know about - frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a - duckin' while them girls show fright\nAnd what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\nUh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the - up","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: my writes\n  artist: de la soul feat. tash & j-rd\n  album: art official intelligence\n  duration_ms: 330417\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Say what?\n  Yo, De La Soul\n  Likwit MCs\n  Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  Yo, we ain't playing\n  New millennium\n\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  The situation is drastic\n  But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n\n  Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' you\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the - up\n"},{"id":15951165,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"Xzibit feat. De La Soul & Tha Alkaholiks","albumName":"You Better Believe It!","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: Xzibit feat. De La Soul & Tha Alkaholiks\n  album: You Better Believe It!\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"},{"id":10862907,"name":"My Writes","trackName":"My Writes","artistName":"De La Soul, Tash, J-RO, Xzibit","albumName":"Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump","duration":330.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\nGot bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\nI raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\nLove money like I love my moms\nLove my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\nWall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\nSet sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\nSo y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\nAnd I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\nRico, De La, inject you with the lethal\nDose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\nThen put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\nCaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\nFuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\nYo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\nHand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\nChange and switch, snitch on his crew\nYo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\nAnd they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\nBlood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\nGot you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\nSmugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n-lieve there's no web or weave a net\nWe done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYeah, yeah, look\nI'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\nThe drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\nChop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\nMy celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\nMy niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\nHeavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\nStep into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\nOne false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\nYo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\nDrawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\nThey stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\nThey librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\nThe love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\nBut the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\nSo pass the mic so I can put in my share\nI rip it from home to L.A.\nWith connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\nDrinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\nI learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\nGettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\nLet your mind expand, every day have a plan\nRo-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\nYou got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\nStay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\nAnd go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\nI keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\nDirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\nDirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\nDirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\nFace down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\nExpert, tryin' to regulate my network\nHead jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\nIf they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nAnd I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\nTash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n(C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\nI can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\nI did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\nWe on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n(\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\nBut see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\nThis is for the DJ, bring it back one time\nI drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\nI'm old school like my dad is\nSo add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\nAyo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\nThem little Pips, they done tripped the wire\nBlamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\nIn this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\nYeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\nAnd I ain't gotta say no names\nPlay no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\nShow no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\nBrand name fresh out the box type hustle\nManpower success is mind over muscle\nGrind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\nI never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\nNailed to the cross it's time to return\nMy only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\nHollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\nIs all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\nFour bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\nDe La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\nAnd what you know about us droppin' ya\nAnd leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nWhat you know about what's weak, what's tight?\nAnd what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\nWhat you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\nAnd what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\nGot a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\nWhat you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\nAh what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\nYou got the right to shut the fuck up\n\nIf you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\nOooh, Oooh, Oooh","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] Say what?\n[00:11.87] Say what?\n[00:14.51] Say what?\n[00:17.10] Yo, De La Soul\n[00:20.06] Likwit MCs\n[00:22.79] Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n[00:24.79] Yo, we ain't playing\n[00:28.65] New millennium\n[00:29.44] Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n[00:35.24] I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n[00:37.84] Love money like I love my moms\n[00:39.54] Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n[00:42.88] Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n[00:45.25] Set sail for tour ever since '89\n[00:47.72] So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n[00:50.08] And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n[00:52.92] Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n[00:55.32] Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n[00:57.84] Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n[01:00.36] CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n[01:02.57] F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n[01:05.19] Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n[01:07.79] Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n[01:10.12] Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n[01:12.12] Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n[01:15.18] And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n[01:17.29] Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n[01:20.50] Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n[01:23.50] Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n[01:25.36] You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n[01:28.13] We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n[01:30.86] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:33.22] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[01:35.75] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[01:38.15] What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n[01:40.88] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n[01:43.27] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[01:45.86] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[01:48.18] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n[01:50.36] I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n[01:52.82] The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n[01:55.31] Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n[01:58.05] My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n[02:00.94] My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n[02:03.09] Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n[02:05.66] Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n[02:08.30] One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n[02:10.43] Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n[02:12.69] Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n[02:15.74] They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n[02:18.08] They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n[02:20.65] The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n[02:23.04] But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n[02:25.57] So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n[02:27.37] I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n[02:30.56] Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n[02:33.07] I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n[02:35.66] Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n[02:38.15] Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n[02:40.76] Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n[02:43.12] You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n[02:45.69] Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n[02:48.13] And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n[02:50.45] I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n[02:52.74] Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n[02:55.88] Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n[02:58.33] Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n[03:00.72] Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n[03:03.34] Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n[03:05.71] Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n[03:08.39] If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n[03:11.18] What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:13.62] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[03:16.13] And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n[03:18.82] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[03:21.11] And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n[03:23.70] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[03:26.12] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:28.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[03:30.68] And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n[03:33.25] Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n[03:35.82] You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n[03:38.22] I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n[03:40.78] I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n[03:43.50] We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n[03:47.01] The situation is drastic\n[03:48.44] But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n[03:51.07] This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n[03:53.67] I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n[03:56.10] I'm old school like my dad is\n[03:58.03] So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n[04:00.99] Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n[04:03.99] Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n[04:05.67] Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n[04:07.83] In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n[04:10.43] Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n[04:14.34] And I ain't gotta say no names\n[04:15.98] Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n[04:18.45] Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n[04:21.29] Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n[04:23.58] Manpower success is mind over muscle\n[04:26.03] Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n[04:28.56] I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n[04:31.50] Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n[04:33.47] My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n[04:35.98] Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n[04:38.72] Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n[04:41.28] Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n[04:43.71] De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n[04:46.36] And what you know about us droppin' you\n[04:48.35] And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n[04:51.25] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[04:53.87] What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n[04:56.57] And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n[04:58.74] What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n[05:01.47] And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n[05:04.18] Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n[05:06.59] And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:08.93] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:11.44] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:14.08] Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n[05:18.66] You got the right to shut the - up\n[05:22.12] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Writes\n  artist: De La Soul, Tash, J-RO, Xzibit\n  album: 'Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump'\n  duration_ms: 330000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 11870\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 11870\n  end_ms: 14510\n- text: Say what?\n  start_ms: 14510\n  end_ms: 17100\n- text: Yo, De La Soul\n  start_ms: 17100\n  end_ms: 20060\n- text: Likwit MCs\n  start_ms: 20060\n  end_ms: 22790\n- text: Shit is the Xzibit, right?\n  start_ms: 22790\n  end_ms: 24790\n- text: Yo, we ain't playing\n  start_ms: 24790\n  end_ms: 28650\n- text: New millennium\n  start_ms: 28650\n  end_ms: 29440\n- text: Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life, got - throwin' they drawers on stage? That ain't me\n  start_ms: 29440\n  end_ms: 35240\n- text: I raise kids, push whips, piss, and MC\n  start_ms: 35240\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: Love money like I love my moms\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Love my - Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42880\n- text: Wall-to-wall bullshit, I got hardwood floors\n  start_ms: 42880\n  end_ms: 45250\n- text: Set sail for tour ever since '89\n  start_ms: 45250\n  end_ms: 47720\n- text: So y'all are fuckin' the same hos who used to be mine\n  start_ms: 47720\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme 'longside my people\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52920\n- text: Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  start_ms: 52920\n  end_ms: 55320\n- text: Dose of hop-hippin', if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  start_ms: 55320\n  end_ms: 57840\n- text: Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  start_ms: 57840\n  end_ms: 60360\n- text: CaTash put the dip in dip, dive, socialize\n  start_ms: 60360\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: F- around with me and next you'll find your crib burglarized\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 67790\n- text: Hand over fist, how can a man act like a -?\n  start_ms: 67790\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 72120\n- text: Yo, get rid of them - before the same thing happen to you\n  start_ms: 72120\n  end_ms: 75180\n- text: And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  start_ms: 75180\n  end_ms: 77290\n- text: Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherf- cops tweakin' out\n  start_ms: 77290\n  end_ms: 80500\n- text: Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' these nuts\n  start_ms: 80500\n  end_ms: 83500\n- text: Smugglin' these cuts from SC\n  start_ms: 83500\n  end_ms: 85360\n- text: You best believe there's no web or weave a net\n  start_ms: 85360\n  end_ms: 88130\n- text: We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n  start_ms: 88130\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 93220\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 93220\n  end_ms: 95750\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 95750\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: What you know about niggas frontin' for the light? (Yeah)\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 100880\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights)\n  start_ms: 100880\n  end_ms: 103270\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 103270\n  end_ms: 105860\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 105860\n  end_ms: 108180\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes) (yeah, yeah, look)\n  start_ms: 108180\n  end_ms: 110360\n- text: I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  start_ms: 110360\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118050\n- text: My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the - shots I call\n  start_ms: 118050\n  end_ms: 120940\n- text: My - gotta ball, never settle for less\n  start_ms: 120940\n  end_ms: 123090\n- text: Heavy metal heavy on your chest like two breasts\n  start_ms: 123090\n  end_ms: 125660\n- text: Step into my office 'cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  start_ms: 125660\n  end_ms: 128300\n- text: One false move and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n  start_ms: 128300\n  end_ms: 130430\n- text: Yo, these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  start_ms: 130430\n  end_ms: 132690\n- text: Drawin' the - out the - after my prize 'cause I won it\n  start_ms: 132690\n  end_ms: 135740\n- text: They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  start_ms: 135740\n  end_ms: 138080\n- text: They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shh)\n  start_ms: 138080\n  end_ms: 140650\n- text: The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  start_ms: 140650\n  end_ms: 143040\n- text: But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  start_ms: 143040\n  end_ms: 145570\n- text: So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  start_ms: 145570\n  end_ms: 147370\n- text: I rip it from home to LA with connecting flights to rip it elsewhere\n  start_ms: 147370\n  end_ms: 150560\n- text: Drinkin' a black and tan in the back of a van\n  start_ms: 150560\n  end_ms: 153070\n- text: I learned as a young man, long trip, piss in a can\n  start_ms: 153070\n  end_ms: 155660\n- text: Getting a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  start_ms: 155660\n  end_ms: 158150\n- text: Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  start_ms: 158150\n  end_ms: 160760\n- text: Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  start_ms: 160760\n  end_ms: 163120\n- text: You got to live with the cards dealt in your hand\n  start_ms: 163120\n  end_ms: 165690\n- text: Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a stand\n  start_ms: 165690\n  end_ms: 168130\n- text: And go Uptown Saturday Night like Geechie Dan\n  start_ms: 168130\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: I keep it dirty, like under the bed (dirty)\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: Dirty like Uncle Red, ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 175880\n- text: Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the Yoo-Hoo\n  start_ms: 175880\n  end_ms: 178330\n- text: Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin' it all\n  start_ms: 178330\n  end_ms: 180720\n- text: Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  start_ms: 180720\n  end_ms: 183340\n- text: Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  start_ms: 183340\n  end_ms: 185710\n- text: Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  start_ms: 185710\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: If they ask who cut the grits, I'ma say E-Swift did it\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191180\n- text: What you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 191180\n  end_ms: 193620\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 193620\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198820\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 198820\n  end_ms: 201110\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  start_ms: 201110\n  end_ms: 203700\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 203700\n  end_ms: 206120\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 206120\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210680\n- text: And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  start_ms: 210680\n  end_ms: 213250\n- text: Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave potholes in your lawn (come on)\n  start_ms: 213250\n  end_ms: 215820\n- text: You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  start_ms: 215820\n  end_ms: 218220\n- text: I can shut y'all - down like the Y2K\n  start_ms: 218220\n  end_ms: 220780\n- text: I did a tour in '94 with De La Soul and Tribe\n  start_ms: 220780\n  end_ms: 223500\n- text: We on the same vibe 'cause real niggas coincide (right)\n  start_ms: 223500\n  end_ms: 227010\n- text: The situation is drastic\n  start_ms: 227010\n  end_ms: 228440\n- text: But see, songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n  start_ms: 228440\n  end_ms: 231070\n- text: This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  start_ms: 231070\n  end_ms: 233670\n- text: I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  start_ms: 233670\n  end_ms: 236100\n- text: I'm old school like my dad is\n  start_ms: 236100\n  end_ms: 238030\n- text: So add this to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n  start_ms: 238030\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Ayo, we theme park status, upstage these - like Gladys\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243990\n- text: Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  start_ms: 243990\n  end_ms: 245670\n- text: Blamin' they legs while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  start_ms: 245670\n  end_ms: 247830\n- text: In this, we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n  start_ms: 247830\n  end_ms: 250430\n- text: Yeah, we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  start_ms: 250430\n  end_ms: 254340\n- text: And I ain't gotta say no names\n  start_ms: 254340\n  end_ms: 255980\n- text: Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  start_ms: 255980\n  end_ms: 258450\n- text: Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  start_ms: 258450\n  end_ms: 261290\n- text: Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  start_ms: 261290\n  end_ms: 263580\n- text: Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  start_ms: 263580\n  end_ms: 266030\n- text: Grind 'til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  start_ms: 266030\n  end_ms: 268560\n- text: I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  start_ms: 268560\n  end_ms: 271500\n- text: Nailed to the cross, it's time to return\n  start_ms: 271500\n  end_ms: 273470\n- text: My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  start_ms: 273470\n  end_ms: 275980\n- text: Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass -\n  start_ms: 275980\n  end_ms: 278720\n- text: Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n  start_ms: 278720\n  end_ms: 281280\n- text: Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  start_ms: 281280\n  end_ms: 283710\n- text: De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  start_ms: 283710\n  end_ms: 286360\n- text: And what you know about us droppin' you\n  start_ms: 286360\n  end_ms: 288350\n- text: And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  start_ms: 288350\n  end_ms: 291250\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 291250\n  end_ms: 293870\n- text: What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  start_ms: 293870\n  end_ms: 296570\n- text: And what you know about an off night? (Uh)\n  start_ms: 296570\n  end_ms: 298740\n- text: What you know about - frontin' for the light?\n  start_ms: 298740\n  end_ms: 301470\n- text: And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  start_ms: 301470\n  end_ms: 304180\n- text: Got a - duckin' while them girls show fright\n  start_ms: 304180\n  end_ms: 306590\n- text: And what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 306590\n  end_ms: 308930\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 308930\n  end_ms: 311440\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 311440\n  end_ms: 314080\n- text: Uh, what you know about my writes? (My writes)\n  start_ms: 314080\n  end_ms: 318660\n- text: You got the right to shut the - up\n  start_ms: 318660\n  end_ms: 322120\nplain: |-\n  Yo, who hold guns and rock ice bigger than life\n  Got bitches throwin' they drawers on stage - that ain't me\n  I raise kids, push whips, piss an MC\n  Love money like I love my moms\n  Love my nigga Com Sense when he bang dents all up in they wallets\n  Wall to wall bullshit I got hardwood floors\n  Set sail for tour ever since eighty-nine\n  So y'all are fuckin the same hoes who used to be mine\n\n  And I've been waitin' three summers to rhyme alongside my people\n  Rico, De La, inject you with the lethal\n  Dose of hop-hippin if you thought CaTash was slippin'\n  Then put that drink down, you drunk off what you sippin'\n  CaTash put the dip in dip dive socialize\n  Fuck around with me and next you'll find yo' crib burglarized\n\n  Yo, you better recognize and try to analyze this\n  Hand over fist - how can a man act like a bitch?\n  Change and switch, snitch on his crew\n  Yo get rid of the niggas before the same thing happen to you\n\n  And they'll leave your ass sticky like glue\n  Blood leakin' out, girls freakin' out, motherfuckin' cops tweakin' out\n  Got you on your knees like a freak, jugglin' deez nuts\n  Smugglin' these cuts from S.C., you best be-\n  -lieve there's no web or weave a net\n  We done swallowed 40 bottles of threat, yo\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (gun fights)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  Yeah, yeah, look\n  I'm Samson without Delilah, the sole survivor\n  The drunk driver that rolls straight, take the whole cake\n  Chop it up with the family, wash it down with alcohol\n  My celly's a Desert Eagle for all the fuckin shots I call\n  My niggas gotta ball, never settle for less\n  Heavy metal, heavy on yo' chest like two breasts\n  Step into my office cause it's time for you to roll somethin'\n  One false move, and we gon' beat you like you stole somethin'\n\n  Yo these styles I kick should be called Bic raps\n  Drawin' the pussy out the nigga after my prize, cause I won it\n  They stomach what I throw, they know I'm right for they diet\n  They librarian flow keeps the party real quiet (shhhhh)\n  The love I lost outweighs the rhymes I gain\n  But the fact that I spit 'em makes me cherish the name\n  So pass the mic so I can put in my share\n  I rip it from home to L.A.\n  With connectin' flights to rip it elsewhere\n\n  Drinkin' up Black & Tan in the back of a van\n  I learned as a young man - long trip, piss in a can\n  Gettin' a house for two grand, now you got your own land\n  Let your mind expand, every day have a plan\n  Ro-Gram is rare earth, swingin' Black Tarzan\n  You got to live with the cards dealt in yo' hand\n  Stay young like Peter Pan, like Sly, take a Stand\n  And go \"Uptown Saturday Night\" like Geechi Dan\n\n  I keep it dirty like under the bed (dirty)\n  Dirty like Uncle Red; ayo, well hella poo-poo\n  Dirty brown Likwit flow thicker than the YooHoo\n  Dirt you dishin' out, chef tellin it all\n  Face down in the dirt, doin' my dirty work\n  Expert, tryin' to regulate my network\n  Head jerk, spice it with rice, stiff with it\n  If they ask who cut the grits I'ma say E-Swift did it\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (What you know?)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (I don't know)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  And I've been known to get it on, past the break of the dawn\n  Tash'll punch you in your grill and leave \"Potholes in Yo' Lawn\"\n  (C'mon!) You makin' diss songs? Spit that rhyme my way\n  I can shut y'all niggas down like the Y-2-K\n  I did a tour in ninety-four with De La Soul and Tribe\n  We on the same vibe, cause real niggas coincide\n  (\"Right-right-right.\") The situation is drastic\n  But see songs like these is why this album goin' classic\n\n  This is for the DJ, bring it back one time\n  I drop bombs like when my moms told me to rhyme\n  I'm old school like my dad is\n  So add this, to your collect', Plug Won, who the baddest?\n\n  Ayo we theme park status, upstage these niggas like Gladys\n  Them little Pips, they done tripped the wire\n  Blamin' they legs, while I'm claimin' these tunes\n  In this we'll stay down like seats found in sorority bathrooms\n\n  Yeah - we flat out classic, separate the real from the plastic\n  And I ain't gotta say no names\n  Play no games, hit the switches, crack the frame\n  Show no shame or fuck it all up, take the blame\n  Brand name fresh out the box type hustle\n  Manpower success is mind over muscle\n  Grind til the wheels fall off, accept the loss\n  I never been soft, whatever the cost, addicted to floss\n  Nailed to the cross it's time to return\n  My only concern is makin' sure that Hollywood burn\n  Hollywood burn, burn to the ground, trick-ass niggas\n  Is all up in the game and don't deserve to be down\n\n  Four bottle rap, twist the cap and kick back\n  De La, Xzibit and Tha Liks came to get that\n  And what you know about us droppin' ya\n  And leavin' you with half a face like the Phantom of the Opera?\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  What you know about what's weak, what's tight?\n  And what you know about an off night? (Uhh)\n  What you know about niggas frontin' for the light?\n  And what you know about them gun fights? (Gun fights, baby)\n  Got a nigga duckin while them girls show fright\n\n  What you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n  Ah what you know about my writes? (my writes)\n\n  You got the right to shut the fuck up\n\n  If you a fat chick getting your fuck on tonight, say Oooh\n\n  Oooh, Oooh, Oooh\n"}]