[{"id":1612210,"name":"Oooh.","trackName":"Oooh.","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh.","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.62] (Redman) *\n[00:01.12] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.14] Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n[00:07.18] That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n[00:10.54] And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n[00:13.78] (Pos)\n[00:15.44] Yo, don't scandalize mine\n[00:17.14] I spent too much time\n[00:18.89] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:21.09] Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.65] (Dove)\n[00:24.14] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n[00:26.31] Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.83] (Pos)\n[00:29.46] While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.25] Like the little ball inside the spray can\n[00:33.75] Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n[00:36.51] Chorus One: Redman\n[00:37.46] God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n[00:39.90] It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.89] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n[00:43.86] It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:45.58] (Pos)\n[00:46.27] It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n[00:48.12] Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n[00:52.02] I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n[00:54.27] Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.56] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.94] Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n[01:05.06] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n[01:07.61] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n[01:11.46] A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n[01:14.08] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n[01:17.06] While it muffles your voice\n[01:18.25] (Dove)\n[01:18.53] Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.85] Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:23.00] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.68] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.34] (Pos)\n[01:29.09] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:30.93] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.08] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.31] Of hard-hitters, for real\n[01:38.46] Chorus Two: Redman\n[01:39.15] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n[01:40.86] And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:43.22] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n[01:46.85] Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.73] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n[01:51.82] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:53.64] Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n[01:56.90] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:58.30] (Dove)\n[01:59.11] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.62] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.13] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n[02:07.59] Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n[02:09.88] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n[02:12.77] Big money's make the big decisions\n[02:14.85] Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.10] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.64] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.84] (Pos)\n[02:21.06] I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n[02:23.39] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:26.08] While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.60] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.19] Went from God to God damn\n[02:32.56] (Redman)\n[02:33.24] Damn God, you're killin it\n[02:34.39] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:35.79] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.33] (Pos)\n[02:38.70] Soundin like they virtual\n[02:40.56] This joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.69] (Dove)\n[02:41.87] Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.19] (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n[02:45.84] Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n[02:48.50] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n[02:52.21] Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n[02:55.39] (Pos)\n[02:55.61] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n[02:57.92] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.70] Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n[03:02.13] Chorus Three: Redman\n[03:03.25] Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n[03:05.80] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:07.22] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n[03:10.82] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:11.85] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n[03:15.62] Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.96] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:22.10] - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:35.59] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh.\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh.\n  duration_ms: 214000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Redman) *\n  start_ms: 620\n  end_ms: 1120\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 1120\n  end_ms: 4140\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  start_ms: 4140\n  end_ms: 7180\n- text: That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  start_ms: 7180\n  end_ms: 10540\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n  start_ms: 10540\n  end_ms: 13780\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 13780\n  end_ms: 15440\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  start_ms: 15440\n  end_ms: 17140\n- text: I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 17140\n  end_ms: 18890\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18890\n  end_ms: 21090\n- text: Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 21090\n  end_ms: 23650\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 23650\n  end_ms: 24140\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 24140\n  end_ms: 26310\n- text: Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 26310\n  end_ms: 28830\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 28830\n  end_ms: 29460\n- text: While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 29460\n  end_ms: 31250\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  start_ms: 31250\n  end_ms: 33750\n- text: Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n  start_ms: 33750\n  end_ms: 36510\n- text: 'Chorus One: Redman'\n  start_ms: 36510\n  end_ms: 37460\n- text: God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  start_ms: 37460\n  end_ms: 39900\n- text: It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39900\n  end_ms: 41890\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  start_ms: 41890\n  end_ms: 43860\n- text: It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 43860\n  end_ms: 45580\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 45580\n  end_ms: 46270\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  start_ms: 46270\n  end_ms: 48120\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48120\n  end_ms: 52020\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  start_ms: 52020\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 57560\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57560\n  end_ms: 59940\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  start_ms: 59940\n  end_ms: 65060\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 65060\n  end_ms: 67610\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67610\n  end_ms: 71460\n- text: A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71460\n  end_ms: 74080\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  start_ms: 74080\n  end_ms: 77060\n- text: While it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 77060\n  end_ms: 78250\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 78250\n  end_ms: 78530\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78530\n  end_ms: 80850\n- text: Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  start_ms: 80850\n  end_ms: 83000\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 83000\n  end_ms: 85680\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85680\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 89090\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 89090\n  end_ms: 90930\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 90930\n  end_ms: 94080\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94080\n  end_ms: 96310\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real\n  start_ms: 96310\n  end_ms: 98460\n- text: 'Chorus Two: Redman'\n  start_ms: 98460\n  end_ms: 99150\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  start_ms: 99150\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 103220\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  start_ms: 103220\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 108730\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  start_ms: 108730\n  end_ms: 111820\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111820\n  end_ms: 113640\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  start_ms: 113640\n  end_ms: 116900\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 116900\n  end_ms: 118300\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 118300\n  end_ms: 119110\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119110\n  end_ms: 122620\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122620\n  end_ms: 125130\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  start_ms: 125130\n  end_ms: 127590\n- text: Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  start_ms: 127590\n  end_ms: 129880\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  start_ms: 129880\n  end_ms: 132770\n- text: Big money's make the big decisions\n  start_ms: 132770\n  end_ms: 134850\n- text: Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 134850\n  end_ms: 137100\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137100\n  end_ms: 139640\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139640\n  end_ms: 140840\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 140840\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 143390\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143390\n  end_ms: 146080\n- text: While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 146080\n  end_ms: 148600\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148600\n  end_ms: 151190\n- text: Went from God to God damn\n  start_ms: 151190\n  end_ms: 152560\n- text: (Redman)\n  start_ms: 152560\n  end_ms: 153240\n- text: Damn God, you're killin it\n  start_ms: 153240\n  end_ms: 154390\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 154390\n  end_ms: 155790\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 155790\n  end_ms: 158330\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 158330\n  end_ms: 158700\n- text: Soundin like they virtual\n  start_ms: 158700\n  end_ms: 160560\n- text: This joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 160560\n  end_ms: 161690\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 161690\n  end_ms: 161870\n- text: Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161870\n  end_ms: 164190\n- text: (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  start_ms: 164190\n  end_ms: 165840\n- text: Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  start_ms: 165840\n  end_ms: 168500\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  start_ms: 168500\n  end_ms: 172210\n- text: Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172210\n  end_ms: 175390\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 175390\n  end_ms: 175610\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  start_ms: 175610\n  end_ms: 177920\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177920\n  end_ms: 179700\n- text: Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n  start_ms: 179700\n  end_ms: 182130\n- text: 'Chorus Three: Redman'\n  start_ms: 182130\n  end_ms: 183250\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  start_ms: 183250\n  end_ms: 185800\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185800\n  end_ms: 187220\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  start_ms: 187220\n  end_ms: 190820\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190820\n  end_ms: 191850\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  start_ms: 191850\n  end_ms: 195620\n- text: Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195620\n  end_ms: 197960\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197960\n  end_ms: 202100\n- text: '- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!'\n  start_ms: 202100\n  end_ms: 215590\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 215590\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":24113636,"name":"Oooh - Single Mix","trackName":"Oooh - Single Mix","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh","duration":213.024,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\nThat's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\nYo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can providing three\nCoats for both child, woman, and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\nA life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass\nIn the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like -\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\nAlive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\nIt was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\nThey did a job, took all the goodies\nOut from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, yeah\nStraight out the car\nAll cool motherfuckers","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.50] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.46] Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n[00:07.11] That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n[00:10.77] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n[00:14.33] Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.38] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.81] Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.44] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:25.93] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.61] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.16] Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n[00:34.26] Coats for both child, woman, and man\n[00:36.35] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n[00:39.01] It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.58] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n[00:44.23] It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.09] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.54] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n[00:51.82] I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n[00:55.67] Y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.19] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.90] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n[01:04.42] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.43] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n[01:11.53] A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n[01:14.11] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n[01:15.50] In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.06] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.67] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.55] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.81] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.58] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.02] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.23] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.65] Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n[01:38.24] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.06] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n[01:47.18] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.14] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n[01:51.96] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.06] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n[01:57.49] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.33] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.46] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.18] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n[02:07.56] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.57] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.01] Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n[02:15.78] Alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.54] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.41] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.68] I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n[02:23.26] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.83] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.70] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.05] Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n[02:33.91] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.47] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.52] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.26] It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.49] They did a job, took all the goodies\n[02:46.79] Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n[02:49.68] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n[02:52.10] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.23] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n[02:57.12] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.12] Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n[03:02.09] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n[03:05.31] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n[03:10.45] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.35] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n[03:15.55] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.48] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:20.63] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:24.13] Yeah, uh-huh\n[03:26.24] Yeah, yeah\n[03:28.99] Straight out the car\n[03:29.94] All cool motherfuckers\n[03:32.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh - Single Mix\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh\n  duration_ms: 213024\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 500\n  end_ms: 4460\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  start_ms: 4460\n  end_ms: 7110\n- text: That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  start_ms: 7110\n  end_ms: 10770\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n  start_ms: 10770\n  end_ms: 14330\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14330\n  end_ms: 18380\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18380\n  end_ms: 20810\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20810\n  end_ms: 23440\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23440\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28610\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28610\n  end_ms: 31160\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  start_ms: 31160\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: Coats for both child, woman, and man\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 36350\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  start_ms: 36350\n  end_ms: 39010\n- text: It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39010\n  end_ms: 41580\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  start_ms: 41580\n  end_ms: 44230\n- text: It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44230\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 51820\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  start_ms: 51820\n  end_ms: 55670\n- text: Y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 55670\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59900\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  start_ms: 59900\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78060\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78060\n  end_ms: 80670\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80670\n  end_ms: 82550\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82550\n  end_ms: 85810\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85810\n  end_ms: 88580\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88580\n  end_ms: 91020\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91020\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 96650\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n  start_ms: 96650\n  end_ms: 98240\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98240\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114060\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  start_ms: 114060\n  end_ms: 117490\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117490\n  end_ms: 119330\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119330\n  end_ms: 122460\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122460\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130570\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130570\n  end_ms: 133010\n- text: Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  start_ms: 133010\n  end_ms: 135780\n- text: Alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135780\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 140680\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  start_ms: 140680\n  end_ms: 143260\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143260\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148700\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148700\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 153910\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153910\n  end_ms: 156470\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156470\n  end_ms: 158520\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158520\n  end_ms: 161260\n- text: It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161260\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: They did a job, took all the goodies\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169680\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  start_ms: 169680\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 174230\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  start_ms: 174230\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 185310\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185310\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 192350\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  start_ms: 192350\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 200630\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 200630\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Yeah, uh-huh\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 206240\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 206240\n  end_ms: 208990\n- text: Straight out the car\n  start_ms: 208990\n  end_ms: 209940\n- text: All cool motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 209940\n  end_ms: 212100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212100\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  Coats for both child, woman, and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\n  A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  Alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  They did a job, took all the goodies\n  Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yeah, uh-huh\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Straight out the car\n  All cool motherfuckers\n"},{"id":21436157,"name":"Oooh. (original version)","trackName":"Oooh. (original version)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh.","duration":216.266667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. (original version)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh.\n  duration_ms: 216267\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":26369614,"name":"Oooh. (original version)","trackName":"Oooh. (original version)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh.","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. (original version)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh.\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":13296162,"name":"Oooh","trackName":"Oooh","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nwhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nof hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nof shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nwho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.46] (Redman) *\n[00:01.06] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.10] Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n[00:06.82] That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n[00:10.88] And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n[00:12.68] (Pos)\n[00:14.76] Yo, don't scandalize mine\n[00:16.93] I spent too much time\n[00:18.33] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:21.04] Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.47] (Dove)\n[00:23.85] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n[00:26.09] Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.48] (Pos)\n[00:28.93] While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:30.86] Like the little ball inside the spray can\n[00:33.50] Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n[00:36.57] Chorus One: Redman\n[00:36.99] God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n[00:39.11] It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.37] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n[00:44.30] It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.35] (Pos)\n[00:46.64] It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n[00:48.45] Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n[00:52.17] I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n[00:54.27] Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.34] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.97] Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n[01:04.67] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n[01:07.78] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n[01:11.54] A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n[01:13.54] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n[01:17.18] while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.16] (Dove)\n[01:18.82] Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.97] Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:23.42] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:26.06] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.70] (Pos)\n[01:29.07] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.23] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.36] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:37.16] of hard-hitters, for real\n[01:38.41] Chorus Two: Redman\n[01:38.79] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n[01:41.83] And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.02] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n[01:46.97] Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.92] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n[01:52.13] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.34] Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n[01:57.43] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.49] (Dove)\n[02:00.09] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.69] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.46] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n[02:07.86] Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n[02:10.64] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n[02:13.04] Big money's make the big decisions\n[02:15.15] Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.52] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:20.07] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.98] (Pos)\n[02:21.20] I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n[02:23.44] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:26.00] While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.77] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.46] Went from God to God damn\n[02:33.18] (Redman)\n[02:33.67] Damn God, you're killin it\n[02:34.23] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.80] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.73] (Pos)\n[02:39.10] Soundin like they virtual\n[02:40.42] This joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.53] (Dove)\n[02:41.84] Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.44] (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n[02:46.31] Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n[02:49.76] of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n[02:52.38] who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.76] (Pos)\n[02:55.19] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n[02:57.47] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.45] Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n[03:02.58] Chorus Three: Redman\n[03:02.94] Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n[03:05.12] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:07.52] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n[03:10.58] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.77] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n[03:15.14] Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.86] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:21.15] - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:23.84] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Redman) *\n  start_ms: 460\n  end_ms: 1060\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 1060\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6820\n- text: That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  start_ms: 6820\n  end_ms: 10880\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n  start_ms: 10880\n  end_ms: 12680\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 12680\n  end_ms: 14760\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  start_ms: 14760\n  end_ms: 16930\n- text: I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 16930\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 21040\n- text: Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 21040\n  end_ms: 23470\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 23470\n  end_ms: 23850\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23850\n  end_ms: 26090\n- text: Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 26090\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 28930\n- text: While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28930\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33500\n- text: Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n  start_ms: 33500\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: 'Chorus One: Redman'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 36990\n- text: God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  start_ms: 36990\n  end_ms: 39110\n- text: It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39110\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 44300\n- text: It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44300\n  end_ms: 46350\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 46350\n  end_ms: 46640\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  start_ms: 46640\n  end_ms: 48450\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48450\n  end_ms: 52170\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  start_ms: 52170\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 57340\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57340\n  end_ms: 59970\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  start_ms: 59970\n  end_ms: 64670\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64670\n  end_ms: 67780\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67780\n  end_ms: 71540\n- text: A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71540\n  end_ms: 73540\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  start_ms: 73540\n  end_ms: 77180\n- text: while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 77180\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 78820\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78820\n  end_ms: 80970\n- text: Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  start_ms: 80970\n  end_ms: 83420\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 83420\n  end_ms: 86060\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 86060\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 89070\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 89070\n  end_ms: 91230\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91230\n  end_ms: 94360\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94360\n  end_ms: 97160\n- text: of hard-hitters, for real\n  start_ms: 97160\n  end_ms: 98410\n- text: 'Chorus Two: Redman'\n  start_ms: 98410\n  end_ms: 98790\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  start_ms: 98790\n  end_ms: 101830\n- text: And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 101830\n  end_ms: 104020\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  start_ms: 104020\n  end_ms: 106970\n- text: Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 106970\n  end_ms: 108920\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  start_ms: 108920\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 117430\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117430\n  end_ms: 119490\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 119490\n  end_ms: 120090\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 120090\n  end_ms: 122690\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122690\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127860\n- text: Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  start_ms: 127860\n  end_ms: 130640\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  start_ms: 130640\n  end_ms: 133040\n- text: Big money's make the big decisions\n  start_ms: 133040\n  end_ms: 135150\n- text: Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135150\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 140980\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 140980\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 143440\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143440\n  end_ms: 146000\n- text: While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 146000\n  end_ms: 148770\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148770\n  end_ms: 151460\n- text: Went from God to God damn\n  start_ms: 151460\n  end_ms: 153180\n- text: (Redman)\n  start_ms: 153180\n  end_ms: 153670\n- text: Damn God, you're killin it\n  start_ms: 153670\n  end_ms: 154230\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 154230\n  end_ms: 156800\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156800\n  end_ms: 158730\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 158730\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Soundin like they virtual\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 160420\n- text: This joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 160420\n  end_ms: 161530\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 161530\n  end_ms: 161840\n- text: Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161840\n  end_ms: 164440\n- text: (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  start_ms: 164440\n  end_ms: 166310\n- text: Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  start_ms: 166310\n  end_ms: 169760\n- text: of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  start_ms: 169760\n  end_ms: 172380\n- text: who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172380\n  end_ms: 174760\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 174760\n  end_ms: 175190\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  start_ms: 175190\n  end_ms: 177470\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177470\n  end_ms: 179450\n- text: Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n  start_ms: 179450\n  end_ms: 182580\n- text: 'Chorus Three: Redman'\n  start_ms: 182580\n  end_ms: 182940\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  start_ms: 182940\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 187520\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  start_ms: 187520\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 192770\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  start_ms: 192770\n  end_ms: 195140\n- text: Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195140\n  end_ms: 197860\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197860\n  end_ms: 201150\n- text: '- oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!'\n  start_ms: 201150\n  end_ms: 203840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 203840\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  while it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":7146038,"name":"Oooh.","trackName":"Oooh.","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"The Best Of De La Soul","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.46] (Redman) *\n[00:01.06] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.10] Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n[00:06.82] That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n[00:10.88] And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n[00:12.68] (Pos)\n[00:14.76] Yo, don't scandalize mine\n[00:16.93] I spent too much time\n[00:18.33] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:21.04] Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.47] (Dove)\n[00:23.85] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n[00:26.09] Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.48] (Pos)\n[00:28.93] While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:30.86] Like the little ball inside the spray can\n[00:33.50] Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n[00:36.57] Chorus One: Redman\n[00:36.99] God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n[00:39.11] It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.37] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n[00:44.30] It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.35] (Pos)\n[00:46.64] It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n[00:48.45] Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n[00:52.17] I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n[00:54.27] Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.34] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.97] Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n[01:04.67] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n[01:07.78] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n[01:11.54] A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n[01:13.54] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n[01:17.18] While it muffles your voice\n[01:18.16] (Dove)\n[01:18.82] Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.97] Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:23.42] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:26.06] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.70] (Pos)\n[01:29.07] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.23] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.36] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:37.16] Of hard-hitters, for real\n[01:38.41] Chorus Two: Redman\n[01:38.79] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n[01:41.83] And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.02] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n[01:46.97] Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.92] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n[01:52.13] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.34] Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n[01:57.43] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.49] (Dove)\n[02:00.09] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.69] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.46] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n[02:07.86] Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n[02:10.64] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n[02:13.04] Big money's make the big decisions\n[02:15.15] Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.52] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:20.07] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.98] (Pos)\n[02:21.20] I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n[02:23.44] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:26.00] While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.77] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.46] Went from God to God damn\n[02:33.18] (Redman)\n[02:33.67] Damn God, you're killin it\n[02:34.23] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.80] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.73] (Pos)\n[02:39.10] Soundin like they virtual\n[02:40.42] This joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.53] (Dove)\n[02:41.84] Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.44] (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n[02:46.31] Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n[02:49.76] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n[02:52.38] Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.76] (Pos)\n[02:55.19] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n[02:57.47] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.45] Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n[03:02.58] Chorus Three: Redman\n[03:02.94] Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n[03:05.12] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:07.52] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n[03:10.58] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.77] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n[03:15.14] Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.86] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:21.15] - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:23.84] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh.\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: The Best Of De La Soul\n  duration_ms: 214000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Redman) *\n  start_ms: 460\n  end_ms: 1060\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 1060\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6820\n- text: That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  start_ms: 6820\n  end_ms: 10880\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n  start_ms: 10880\n  end_ms: 12680\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 12680\n  end_ms: 14760\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  start_ms: 14760\n  end_ms: 16930\n- text: I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 16930\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 21040\n- text: Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 21040\n  end_ms: 23470\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 23470\n  end_ms: 23850\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23850\n  end_ms: 26090\n- text: Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 26090\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 28930\n- text: While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28930\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33500\n- text: Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n  start_ms: 33500\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: 'Chorus One: Redman'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 36990\n- text: God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  start_ms: 36990\n  end_ms: 39110\n- text: It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39110\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 44300\n- text: It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44300\n  end_ms: 46350\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 46350\n  end_ms: 46640\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  start_ms: 46640\n  end_ms: 48450\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48450\n  end_ms: 52170\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  start_ms: 52170\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 57340\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57340\n  end_ms: 59970\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  start_ms: 59970\n  end_ms: 64670\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64670\n  end_ms: 67780\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67780\n  end_ms: 71540\n- text: A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71540\n  end_ms: 73540\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  start_ms: 73540\n  end_ms: 77180\n- text: While it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 77180\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 78820\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78820\n  end_ms: 80970\n- text: Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  start_ms: 80970\n  end_ms: 83420\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 83420\n  end_ms: 86060\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 86060\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 89070\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 89070\n  end_ms: 91230\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91230\n  end_ms: 94360\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94360\n  end_ms: 97160\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real\n  start_ms: 97160\n  end_ms: 98410\n- text: 'Chorus Two: Redman'\n  start_ms: 98410\n  end_ms: 98790\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  start_ms: 98790\n  end_ms: 101830\n- text: And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 101830\n  end_ms: 104020\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  start_ms: 104020\n  end_ms: 106970\n- text: Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 106970\n  end_ms: 108920\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  start_ms: 108920\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 117430\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117430\n  end_ms: 119490\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 119490\n  end_ms: 120090\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 120090\n  end_ms: 122690\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122690\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127860\n- text: Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  start_ms: 127860\n  end_ms: 130640\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  start_ms: 130640\n  end_ms: 133040\n- text: Big money's make the big decisions\n  start_ms: 133040\n  end_ms: 135150\n- text: Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135150\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 140980\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 140980\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 143440\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143440\n  end_ms: 146000\n- text: While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 146000\n  end_ms: 148770\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148770\n  end_ms: 151460\n- text: Went from God to God damn\n  start_ms: 151460\n  end_ms: 153180\n- text: (Redman)\n  start_ms: 153180\n  end_ms: 153670\n- text: Damn God, you're killin it\n  start_ms: 153670\n  end_ms: 154230\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 154230\n  end_ms: 156800\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156800\n  end_ms: 158730\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 158730\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Soundin like they virtual\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 160420\n- text: This joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 160420\n  end_ms: 161530\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 161530\n  end_ms: 161840\n- text: Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161840\n  end_ms: 164440\n- text: (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  start_ms: 164440\n  end_ms: 166310\n- text: Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  start_ms: 166310\n  end_ms: 169760\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  start_ms: 169760\n  end_ms: 172380\n- text: Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172380\n  end_ms: 174760\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 174760\n  end_ms: 175190\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  start_ms: 175190\n  end_ms: 177470\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177470\n  end_ms: 179450\n- text: Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n  start_ms: 179450\n  end_ms: 182580\n- text: 'Chorus Three: Redman'\n  start_ms: 182580\n  end_ms: 182940\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  start_ms: 182940\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 187520\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  start_ms: 187520\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 192770\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  start_ms: 192770\n  end_ms: 195140\n- text: Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195140\n  end_ms: 197860\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197860\n  end_ms: 201150\n- text: '- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!'\n  start_ms: 201150\n  end_ms: 203840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 203840\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":27837325,"name":"Oooh - Single Mix","trackName":"Oooh - Single Mix","artistName":"De La Soul,Redman","albumName":"Oooh","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\nThat's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\nYo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can providing three\nCoats for both child, woman, and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\nA life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass\nIn the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like -\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\nAlive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\nIt was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\nThey did a job, took all the goodies\nOut from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, yeah\nStraight out the car\nAll cool motherfuckers","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.50] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.46] Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n[00:07.11] That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n[00:10.77] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n[00:14.33] Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.38] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.81] Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.44] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:25.93] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.61] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.16] Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n[00:34.26] Coats for both child, woman, and man\n[00:36.35] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n[00:39.01] It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.58] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n[00:44.23] It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.09] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.54] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n[00:51.82] I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n[00:55.67] Y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.19] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.90] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n[01:04.42] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.43] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n[01:11.53] A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n[01:14.11] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n[01:15.50] In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.06] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.67] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.55] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.81] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.58] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.02] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.23] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.65] Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n[01:38.24] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.06] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n[01:47.18] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.14] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n[01:51.96] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.06] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n[01:57.49] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.33] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.46] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.18] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n[02:07.56] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.57] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.01] Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n[02:15.78] Alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.54] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.41] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.68] I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n[02:23.26] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.83] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.70] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.05] Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n[02:33.91] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.47] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.52] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.26] It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.49] They did a job, took all the goodies\n[02:46.79] Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n[02:49.68] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n[02:52.10] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.23] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n[02:57.12] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.12] Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n[03:02.09] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n[03:05.31] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n[03:10.45] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.35] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n[03:15.55] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.48] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:20.63] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:24.13] Yeah, uh-huh\n[03:26.24] Yeah, yeah\n[03:28.99] Straight out the car\n[03:29.94] All cool motherfuckers\n[03:32.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh - Single Mix\n  artist: De La Soul,Redman\n  album: Oooh\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 500\n  end_ms: 4460\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  start_ms: 4460\n  end_ms: 7110\n- text: That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  start_ms: 7110\n  end_ms: 10770\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n  start_ms: 10770\n  end_ms: 14330\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14330\n  end_ms: 18380\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18380\n  end_ms: 20810\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20810\n  end_ms: 23440\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23440\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28610\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28610\n  end_ms: 31160\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  start_ms: 31160\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: Coats for both child, woman, and man\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 36350\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  start_ms: 36350\n  end_ms: 39010\n- text: It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39010\n  end_ms: 41580\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  start_ms: 41580\n  end_ms: 44230\n- text: It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44230\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 51820\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  start_ms: 51820\n  end_ms: 55670\n- text: Y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 55670\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59900\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  start_ms: 59900\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78060\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78060\n  end_ms: 80670\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80670\n  end_ms: 82550\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82550\n  end_ms: 85810\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85810\n  end_ms: 88580\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88580\n  end_ms: 91020\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91020\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 96650\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n  start_ms: 96650\n  end_ms: 98240\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98240\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114060\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  start_ms: 114060\n  end_ms: 117490\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117490\n  end_ms: 119330\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119330\n  end_ms: 122460\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122460\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130570\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130570\n  end_ms: 133010\n- text: Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  start_ms: 133010\n  end_ms: 135780\n- text: Alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135780\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 140680\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  start_ms: 140680\n  end_ms: 143260\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143260\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148700\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148700\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 153910\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153910\n  end_ms: 156470\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156470\n  end_ms: 158520\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158520\n  end_ms: 161260\n- text: It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161260\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: They did a job, took all the goodies\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169680\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  start_ms: 169680\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 174230\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  start_ms: 174230\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 185310\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185310\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 192350\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  start_ms: 192350\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 200630\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 200630\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Yeah, uh-huh\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 206240\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 206240\n  end_ms: 208990\n- text: Straight out the car\n  start_ms: 208990\n  end_ms: 209940\n- text: All cool motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 209940\n  end_ms: 212100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212100\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  Coats for both child, woman, and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\n  A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  Alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  They did a job, took all the goodies\n  Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yeah, uh-huh\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Straight out the car\n  All cool motherfuckers\n"},{"id":27417053,"name":"Oooh","trackName":"Oooh","artistName":"De La Soul, Redman","albumName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\nWe more than rough, we callin' your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n\nYo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\nYou see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n\nA life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig moneys make the big decisions\nKeep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\nBack to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\nNow, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from god to goddamn\nDamn god, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)\nThey did a job (uh-huh)\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\nExcept the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\nLet your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nYeah, yeah\nYeah\nStraight outta Compton\nHardcore motherfucker (ooh)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.53] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.34] Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n[00:08.15] We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n[00:10.64] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n[00:14.21] Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.36] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.88] Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n[00:23.16] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:26.19] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.57] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:30.95] Like the little ball inside the spray can\n[00:33.18] Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n[00:36.34] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\n[00:39.42] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[00:40.92] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\n[00:44.78] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[00:45.77] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.34] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\n[00:51.36] You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n[00:53.95] Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.04] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.70] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\n[01:04.16] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.31] Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n[01:11.37] A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\n[01:13.93] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.08] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.41] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.64] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.82] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.51] Most crews are post current while we're forever\n[01:30.86] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.46] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n[01:38.15] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[01:43.47] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\n[01:47.02] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[01:47.99] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\n[01:52.43] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[01:53.72] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\n[01:57.67] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[01:59.09] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.50] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:04.81] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n[02:07.52] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.52] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.00] Big moneys make the big decisions\n[02:14.69] Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\n[02:17.17] Back to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.46] I had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\n[02:23.14] Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.61] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.37] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.01] Went from god to goddamn\n[02:32.43] Damn god, you're killin' it\n[02:33.84] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.54] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.31] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.35] 'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)\n[02:44.38] They did a job (uh-huh)\n[02:45.93] Took all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\n[02:48.16] Except the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\n[02:52.05] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:53.99] Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n[02:56.92] You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\n[03:00.96] Let your conscious be free\n[03:01.67] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\n[03:05.35] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\n[03:10.50] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[03:11.97] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\n[03:14.53] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n[03:17.00] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\n[03:20.87] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n[03:24.65] Yeah, yeah\n[03:27.43] Yeah\n[03:29.10] Straight outta Compton\n[03:30.05] Hardcore motherfucker (ooh)\n[03:32.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh\n  artist: De La Soul, Redman\n  album: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 530\n  end_ms: 4340\n- text: Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n  start_ms: 4340\n  end_ms: 8150\n- text: We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n  start_ms: 8150\n  end_ms: 10640\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n  start_ms: 10640\n  end_ms: 14210\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14210\n  end_ms: 18360\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18360\n  end_ms: 20880\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20880\n  end_ms: 23160\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23160\n  end_ms: 26190\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 26190\n  end_ms: 28570\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28570\n  end_ms: 30950\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  start_ms: 30950\n  end_ms: 33180\n- text: Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n  start_ms: 33180\n  end_ms: 36340\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\n  start_ms: 36340\n  end_ms: 39420\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 39420\n  end_ms: 40920\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\n  start_ms: 40920\n  end_ms: 44780\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 44780\n  end_ms: 45770\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 45770\n  end_ms: 48340\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\n  start_ms: 48340\n  end_ms: 51360\n- text: You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  start_ms: 51360\n  end_ms: 53950\n- text: Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 53950\n  end_ms: 57040\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57040\n  end_ms: 59700\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\n  start_ms: 59700\n  end_ms: 64160\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64160\n  end_ms: 67310\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n  start_ms: 67310\n  end_ms: 71370\n- text: A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\n  start_ms: 71370\n  end_ms: 73930\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 73930\n  end_ms: 78080\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78080\n  end_ms: 80410\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80410\n  end_ms: 82640\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82640\n  end_ms: 85820\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85820\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Most crews are post current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 90860\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 90860\n  end_ms: 94460\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n  start_ms: 94460\n  end_ms: 98150\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98150\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 103470\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\n  start_ms: 103470\n  end_ms: 107020\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 107020\n  end_ms: 107990\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\n  start_ms: 107990\n  end_ms: 112430\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 112430\n  end_ms: 113720\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\n  start_ms: 113720\n  end_ms: 117670\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 117670\n  end_ms: 119090\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119090\n  end_ms: 122500\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122500\n  end_ms: 124810\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  start_ms: 124810\n  end_ms: 127520\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127520\n  end_ms: 130520\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130520\n  end_ms: 133000\n- text: Big moneys make the big decisions\n  start_ms: 133000\n  end_ms: 134690\n- text: Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\n  start_ms: 134690\n  end_ms: 137170\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 137170\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 143140\n- text: Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143140\n  end_ms: 145610\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145610\n  end_ms: 148370\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148370\n  end_ms: 151010\n- text: Went from god to goddamn\n  start_ms: 151010\n  end_ms: 152430\n- text: Damn god, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 152430\n  end_ms: 153840\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153840\n  end_ms: 156540\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156540\n  end_ms: 158310\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158310\n  end_ms: 161350\n- text: '''Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)'\n  start_ms: 161350\n  end_ms: 164380\n- text: They did a job (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 164380\n  end_ms: 165930\n- text: Took all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\n  start_ms: 165930\n  end_ms: 168160\n- text: Except the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\n  start_ms: 168160\n  end_ms: 172050\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172050\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 176920\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\n  start_ms: 176920\n  end_ms: 180960\n- text: Let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 180960\n  end_ms: 181670\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\n  start_ms: 181670\n  end_ms: 185350\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 185350\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190500\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 190500\n  end_ms: 191970\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\n  start_ms: 191970\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197000\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197000\n  end_ms: 200870\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 200870\n  end_ms: 204650\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 204650\n  end_ms: 207430\n- text: Yeah\n  start_ms: 207430\n  end_ms: 209100\n- text: Straight outta Compton\n  start_ms: 209100\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: Hardcore motherfucker (ooh)\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 212810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212810\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n  We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\n  You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n\n  A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big moneys make the big decisions\n  Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\n  Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from god to goddamn\n  Damn god, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)\n  They did a job (uh-huh)\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\n  Except the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\n  Let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Yeah\n  Straight outta Compton\n  Hardcore motherfucker (ooh)\n"},{"id":14536124,"name":"Oooh!","trackName":"Oooh!","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"The Best Of De La Soul (Limited Edition)","duration":214.7004,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nwhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nof hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nof shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nwho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.46] (Redman) *\n[00:01.06] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.10] Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n[00:06.82] That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n[00:10.88] And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n[00:12.68] (Pos)\n[00:14.76] Yo, don't scandalize mine\n[00:16.93] I spent too much time\n[00:18.33] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:21.04] Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.47] (Dove)\n[00:23.85] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n[00:26.09] Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.48] (Pos)\n[00:28.93] While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:30.86] Like the little ball inside the spray can\n[00:33.50] Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n[00:36.57] Chorus One: Redman\n[00:36.99] God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n[00:39.11] It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.37] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n[00:44.30] It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.35] (Pos)\n[00:46.64] It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n[00:48.45] Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n[00:52.17] I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n[00:54.27] Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.34] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.97] Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n[01:04.67] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n[01:07.78] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n[01:11.54] A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n[01:13.54] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n[01:17.18] while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.16] (Dove)\n[01:18.82] Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.97] Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:23.42] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:26.06] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.70] (Pos)\n[01:29.07] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.23] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.36] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:37.16] of hard-hitters, for real\n[01:38.41] Chorus Two: Redman\n[01:38.79] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n[01:41.83] And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.02] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n[01:46.97] Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.92] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n[01:52.13] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.34] Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n[01:57.43] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.49] (Dove)\n[02:00.09] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.69] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.46] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n[02:07.86] Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n[02:10.64] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n[02:13.04] Big money's make the big decisions\n[02:15.15] Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.52] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:20.07] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.98] (Pos)\n[02:21.20] I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n[02:23.44] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:26.00] While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.77] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.46] Went from God to God damn\n[02:33.18] (Redman)\n[02:33.67] Damn God, you're killin it\n[02:34.23] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.80] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.73] (Pos)\n[02:39.10] Soundin like they virtual\n[02:40.42] This joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.53] (Dove)\n[02:41.84] Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.44] (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n[02:46.31] Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n[02:49.76] of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n[02:52.38] who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.76] (Pos)\n[02:55.19] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n[02:57.47] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.45] Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n[03:02.58] Chorus Three: Redman\n[03:02.94] Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n[03:05.12] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:07.52] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n[03:10.58] Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.77] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n[03:15.14] Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.86] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:21.15] - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:23.84] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh!\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: The Best Of De La Soul (Limited Edition)\n  duration_ms: 214700\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Redman) *\n  start_ms: 460\n  end_ms: 1060\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 1060\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6820\n- text: That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  start_ms: 6820\n  end_ms: 10880\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n  start_ms: 10880\n  end_ms: 12680\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 12680\n  end_ms: 14760\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  start_ms: 14760\n  end_ms: 16930\n- text: I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 16930\n  end_ms: 18330\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18330\n  end_ms: 21040\n- text: Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 21040\n  end_ms: 23470\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 23470\n  end_ms: 23850\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23850\n  end_ms: 26090\n- text: Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 26090\n  end_ms: 28480\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 28480\n  end_ms: 28930\n- text: While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28930\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33500\n- text: Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n  start_ms: 33500\n  end_ms: 36570\n- text: 'Chorus One: Redman'\n  start_ms: 36570\n  end_ms: 36990\n- text: God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  start_ms: 36990\n  end_ms: 39110\n- text: It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39110\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 44300\n- text: It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44300\n  end_ms: 46350\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 46350\n  end_ms: 46640\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  start_ms: 46640\n  end_ms: 48450\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48450\n  end_ms: 52170\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  start_ms: 52170\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 57340\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57340\n  end_ms: 59970\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  start_ms: 59970\n  end_ms: 64670\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64670\n  end_ms: 67780\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67780\n  end_ms: 71540\n- text: A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71540\n  end_ms: 73540\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  start_ms: 73540\n  end_ms: 77180\n- text: while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 77180\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 78820\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78820\n  end_ms: 80970\n- text: Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  start_ms: 80970\n  end_ms: 83420\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 83420\n  end_ms: 86060\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 86060\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 89070\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 89070\n  end_ms: 91230\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91230\n  end_ms: 94360\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94360\n  end_ms: 97160\n- text: of hard-hitters, for real\n  start_ms: 97160\n  end_ms: 98410\n- text: 'Chorus Two: Redman'\n  start_ms: 98410\n  end_ms: 98790\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  start_ms: 98790\n  end_ms: 101830\n- text: And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 101830\n  end_ms: 104020\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  start_ms: 104020\n  end_ms: 106970\n- text: Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 106970\n  end_ms: 108920\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  start_ms: 108920\n  end_ms: 112130\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 112130\n  end_ms: 114340\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  start_ms: 114340\n  end_ms: 117430\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117430\n  end_ms: 119490\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 119490\n  end_ms: 120090\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 120090\n  end_ms: 122690\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122690\n  end_ms: 125460\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  start_ms: 125460\n  end_ms: 127860\n- text: Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  start_ms: 127860\n  end_ms: 130640\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  start_ms: 130640\n  end_ms: 133040\n- text: Big money's make the big decisions\n  start_ms: 133040\n  end_ms: 135150\n- text: Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135150\n  end_ms: 137520\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137520\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 140980\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 140980\n  end_ms: 141200\n- text: I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  start_ms: 141200\n  end_ms: 143440\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143440\n  end_ms: 146000\n- text: While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 146000\n  end_ms: 148770\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148770\n  end_ms: 151460\n- text: Went from God to God damn\n  start_ms: 151460\n  end_ms: 153180\n- text: (Redman)\n  start_ms: 153180\n  end_ms: 153670\n- text: Damn God, you're killin it\n  start_ms: 153670\n  end_ms: 154230\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 154230\n  end_ms: 156800\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156800\n  end_ms: 158730\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 158730\n  end_ms: 159100\n- text: Soundin like they virtual\n  start_ms: 159100\n  end_ms: 160420\n- text: This joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 160420\n  end_ms: 161530\n- text: (Dove)\n  start_ms: 161530\n  end_ms: 161840\n- text: Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161840\n  end_ms: 164440\n- text: (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  start_ms: 164440\n  end_ms: 166310\n- text: Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  start_ms: 166310\n  end_ms: 169760\n- text: of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  start_ms: 169760\n  end_ms: 172380\n- text: who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172380\n  end_ms: 174760\n- text: (Pos)\n  start_ms: 174760\n  end_ms: 175190\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  start_ms: 175190\n  end_ms: 177470\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177470\n  end_ms: 179450\n- text: Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n  start_ms: 179450\n  end_ms: 182580\n- text: 'Chorus Three: Redman'\n  start_ms: 182580\n  end_ms: 182940\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  start_ms: 182940\n  end_ms: 185120\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185120\n  end_ms: 187520\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  start_ms: 187520\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 192770\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  start_ms: 192770\n  end_ms: 195140\n- text: Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195140\n  end_ms: 197860\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197860\n  end_ms: 201150\n- text: '- oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!'\n  start_ms: 201150\n  end_ms: 203840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 203840\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  while it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":25269930,"name":"Oooh.","trackName":"Oooh.","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"The Best of De La Soul [Disc 1]","duration":214.6,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh.\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: The Best of De La Soul [Disc 1]\n  duration_ms: 214600\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":1857284,"name":"Oooh. (original version)","trackName":"Oooh. (original version)","artistName":"De La Soul feat. Redman","albumName":"Oooh.","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. (original version)\n  artist: De La Soul feat. Redman\n  album: Oooh.\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":10901851,"name":"Oooh","trackName":"Oooh","artistName":"De La Soul feat. Redman","albumName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\nWe more than rough, we callin' your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n\nYo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\nYou see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n\nA life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig moneys make the big decisions\nKeep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\nBack to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\nNow, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from god to goddamn\nDamn god, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)\nThey did a job (uh-huh)\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\nExcept the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\nLet your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nYeah, yeah\nYeah\nStraight outta Compton\nHardcore motherfucker (ooh)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.50] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.46] Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n[00:07.11] That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n[00:10.77] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n[00:14.33] Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.38] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.81] Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.44] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:25.93] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.61] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.16] Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n[00:34.26] Coats for both child, woman, and man\n[00:36.35] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n[00:39.01] It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.58] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n[00:44.23] It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.09] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.54] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n[00:51.82] I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n[00:55.67] Y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.19] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.90] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n[01:04.42] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.43] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n[01:11.53] A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n[01:14.11] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n[01:15.50] In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.06] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.67] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.55] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.81] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.58] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.02] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.23] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.65] Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n[01:38.24] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.06] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n[01:47.18] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.14] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n[01:51.96] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.06] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n[01:57.49] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.33] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.46] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.18] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n[02:07.56] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.57] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.01] Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n[02:15.78] Alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.54] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.41] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.68] I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n[02:23.26] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.83] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.70] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.05] Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n[02:33.91] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.47] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.52] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.26] It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.49] They did a job, took all the goodies\n[02:46.79] Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n[02:49.68] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n[02:52.10] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.23] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n[02:57.12] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.12] Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n[03:02.09] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n[03:05.31] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n[03:10.45] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.35] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n[03:15.55] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.48] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:20.63] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:24.13] Yeah, uh-huh\n[03:26.24] Yeah, yeah\n[03:28.99] Straight out the car\n[03:29.94] All cool motherfuckers\n[03:32.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh\n  artist: De La Soul feat. Redman\n  album: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 500\n  end_ms: 4460\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  start_ms: 4460\n  end_ms: 7110\n- text: That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  start_ms: 7110\n  end_ms: 10770\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n  start_ms: 10770\n  end_ms: 14330\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14330\n  end_ms: 18380\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18380\n  end_ms: 20810\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20810\n  end_ms: 23440\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23440\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28610\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28610\n  end_ms: 31160\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  start_ms: 31160\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: Coats for both child, woman, and man\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 36350\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  start_ms: 36350\n  end_ms: 39010\n- text: It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39010\n  end_ms: 41580\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  start_ms: 41580\n  end_ms: 44230\n- text: It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44230\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 51820\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  start_ms: 51820\n  end_ms: 55670\n- text: Y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 55670\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59900\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  start_ms: 59900\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78060\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78060\n  end_ms: 80670\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80670\n  end_ms: 82550\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82550\n  end_ms: 85810\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85810\n  end_ms: 88580\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88580\n  end_ms: 91020\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91020\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 96650\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n  start_ms: 96650\n  end_ms: 98240\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98240\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114060\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  start_ms: 114060\n  end_ms: 117490\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117490\n  end_ms: 119330\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119330\n  end_ms: 122460\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122460\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130570\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130570\n  end_ms: 133010\n- text: Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  start_ms: 133010\n  end_ms: 135780\n- text: Alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135780\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 140680\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  start_ms: 140680\n  end_ms: 143260\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143260\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148700\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148700\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 153910\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153910\n  end_ms: 156470\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156470\n  end_ms: 158520\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158520\n  end_ms: 161260\n- text: It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161260\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: They did a job, took all the goodies\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169680\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  start_ms: 169680\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 174230\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  start_ms: 174230\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 185310\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185310\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 192350\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  start_ms: 192350\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 200630\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 200630\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Yeah, uh-huh\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 206240\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 206240\n  end_ms: 208990\n- text: Straight out the car\n  start_ms: 208990\n  end_ms: 209940\n- text: All cool motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 209940\n  end_ms: 212100\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n  We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall, it go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click, it went\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm\n  You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high (yeah), since Luke was Luke Skywalk (yo)\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)\n\n  A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love (what?)\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity of hard hitters, for real\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big moneys make the big decisions\n  Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick, dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since paper mâché (c'mon)\n  Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from god to goddamn\n  Damn god, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (what?)\n  They did a job (uh-huh)\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree (word up)\n  Except the CD's of shiny suit rappers and flossin' MC's\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon' relax your mind\n  Let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands? Go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab, so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Yeah\n  Straight outta Compton\n  Hardcore motherfucker (ooh)\n"},{"id":36299647,"name":"Oooh (Single Mix)","trackName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\nThat's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\nYo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can providing three\nCoats for both child, woman, and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\nA life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass\nIn the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like -\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\nAlive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\nIt was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\nThey did a job, took all the goodies\nOut from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, yeah\nStraight out the car\nAll cool motherfuckers","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.50] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.46] Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n[00:07.11] That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n[00:10.77] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n[00:14.33] Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.38] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.81] Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.44] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:25.93] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.61] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.16] Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n[00:34.26] Coats for both child, woman, and man\n[00:36.35] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n[00:39.01] It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.58] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n[00:44.23] It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.09] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.54] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n[00:51.82] I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n[00:55.67] Y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.19] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.90] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n[01:04.42] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.43] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n[01:11.53] A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n[01:14.11] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n[01:15.50] In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.06] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.67] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.55] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.81] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.58] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.02] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.23] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.65] Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n[01:38.24] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.06] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n[01:47.18] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.14] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n[01:51.96] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.06] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n[01:57.49] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.33] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.46] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.18] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n[02:07.56] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.57] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.01] Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n[02:15.78] Alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.54] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.41] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.68] I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n[02:23.26] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.83] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.70] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.05] Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n[02:33.91] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.47] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.52] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.26] It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.49] They did a job, took all the goodies\n[02:46.79] Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n[02:49.68] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n[02:52.10] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.23] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n[02:57.12] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.12] Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n[03:02.09] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n[03:05.31] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n[03:10.45] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.35] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n[03:15.55] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.48] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:20.63] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:24.13] Yeah, uh-huh\n[03:26.24] Yeah, yeah\n[03:28.99] Straight out the car\n[03:29.94] All cool motherfuckers\n[03:32.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 500\n  end_ms: 4460\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  start_ms: 4460\n  end_ms: 7110\n- text: That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  start_ms: 7110\n  end_ms: 10770\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n  start_ms: 10770\n  end_ms: 14330\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14330\n  end_ms: 18380\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18380\n  end_ms: 20810\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20810\n  end_ms: 23440\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23440\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28610\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28610\n  end_ms: 31160\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  start_ms: 31160\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: Coats for both child, woman, and man\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 36350\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  start_ms: 36350\n  end_ms: 39010\n- text: It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39010\n  end_ms: 41580\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  start_ms: 41580\n  end_ms: 44230\n- text: It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44230\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 51820\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  start_ms: 51820\n  end_ms: 55670\n- text: Y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 55670\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59900\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  start_ms: 59900\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78060\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78060\n  end_ms: 80670\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80670\n  end_ms: 82550\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82550\n  end_ms: 85810\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85810\n  end_ms: 88580\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88580\n  end_ms: 91020\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91020\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 96650\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n  start_ms: 96650\n  end_ms: 98240\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98240\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114060\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  start_ms: 114060\n  end_ms: 117490\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117490\n  end_ms: 119330\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119330\n  end_ms: 122460\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122460\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130570\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130570\n  end_ms: 133010\n- text: Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  start_ms: 133010\n  end_ms: 135780\n- text: Alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135780\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 140680\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  start_ms: 140680\n  end_ms: 143260\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143260\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148700\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148700\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 153910\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153910\n  end_ms: 156470\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156470\n  end_ms: 158520\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158520\n  end_ms: 161260\n- text: It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161260\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: They did a job, took all the goodies\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169680\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  start_ms: 169680\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 174230\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  start_ms: 174230\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 185310\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185310\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 192350\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  start_ms: 192350\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 200630\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 200630\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Yeah, uh-huh\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 206240\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 206240\n  end_ms: 208990\n- text: Straight out the car\n  start_ms: 208990\n  end_ms: 209940\n- text: All cool motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 209940\n  end_ms: 212100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212100\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  Coats for both child, woman, and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\n  A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  Alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  They did a job, took all the goodies\n  Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yeah, uh-huh\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Straight out the car\n  All cool motherfuckers\n"},{"id":34931924,"name":"Oooh. [Original Version]","trackName":"Oooh. [Original Version]","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"De La Soul - The Best of De La Soul Disc 1","duration":214.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. [Original Version]\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: De La Soul - The Best of De La Soul Disc 1\n  duration_ms: 214000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":27566122,"name":"Oooh","trackName":"Oooh","artistName":"De La Soul Feat. Redman","albumName":"Best Of De La Soul","duration":214.059313,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\nWe more than rough, we callin' your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes\n(Brick city)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers\nPuffin' Smokey the bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps\nThey on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it\n(Rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats\nFor both child, woman and man\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam\nWho thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court\nBut I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high\nSince Luke was Luke Skywalk\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame\nAll over your game like them shorties who claim\nThat Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\nA life filled with (unverified) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you and I versity\nOf hard hitters, for real\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight\nThen go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig moneys make the big decisions\nKeep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\nI had a name for makin' paper since paper mache\nNow, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\nDamn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shh, shh, shh, shh)\nThey did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree\nExcept the CD's\nOf shiny suit rappers and flossin' M C's\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind\nLet your conscious be free\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick city, go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh\n  artist: De La Soul Feat. Redman\n  album: Best Of De La Soul\n  duration_ms: 214059\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n  We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes\n  (Brick city)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers\n  Puffin' Smokey the bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps\n  They on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it\n  (Rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats\n  For both child, woman and man\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam\n  Who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court\n  But I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high\n  Since Luke was Luke Skywalk\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame\n  All over your game like them shorties who claim\n  That Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  A life filled with (unverified) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you and I versity\n  Of hard hitters, for real\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight\n  Then go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big moneys make the big decisions\n  Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  I had a name for makin' paper since paper mache\n  Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n  Damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shh, shh, shh, shh)\n  They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree\n  Except the CD's\n  Of shiny suit rappers and flossin' M C's\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind\n  Let your conscious be free\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick city, go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n"},{"id":39524828,"name":"Oooh","trackName":"Oooh","artistName":"De La Soul Feat. Redman","albumName":"Best Of De La Soul [Disc 1]","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\nWe more than rough, we callin' your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes\n(Brick city)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers\nPuffin' Smokey the bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps\nThey on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it\n(Rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats\nFor both child, woman and man\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam\nWho thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court\nBut I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high\nSince Luke was Luke Skywalk\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame\nAll over your game like them shorties who claim\nThat Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\nA life filled with (unverified) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you and I versity\nOf hard hitters, for real\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight\nThen go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig moneys make the big decisions\nKeep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\nI had a name for makin' paper since paper mache\nNow, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\nDamn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shh, shh, shh, shh)\nThey did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree\nExcept the CD's\nOf shiny suit rappers and flossin' M C's\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind\nLet your conscious be free\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick city, go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh\n  artist: De La Soul Feat. Redman\n  album: Best Of De La Soul [Disc 1]\n  duration_ms: 214600\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up and let's get ill, that's right y'all\n  We more than rough, we callin' your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes\n  (Brick city)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers\n  Puffin' Smokey the bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps\n  They on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it\n  (Rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats\n  For both child, woman and man\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam\n  Who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court\n  But I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high\n  Since Luke was Luke Skywalk\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame\n  All over your game like them shorties who claim\n  That Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  A life filled with (unverified) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you and I versity\n  Of hard hitters, for real\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight\n  Then go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big moneys make the big decisions\n  Keep hip hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  I had a name for makin' paper since paper mache\n  Now, my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n  Damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shh, shh, shh, shh)\n  They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree\n  Except the CD's\n  Of shiny suit rappers and flossin' M C's\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know, no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind\n  Let your conscious be free\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk ass man\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick city, go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh\n"},{"id":19309567,"name":"Oooh. (Original Version)","trackName":"Oooh. (Original Version)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Best Of De La Soul [Disc 1]","duration":214.648163,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. (Original Version)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Best Of De La Soul [Disc 1]\n  duration_ms: 214648\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":30241486,"name":"Oooh. (Original Version) (Feat. Redman)","trackName":"Oooh. (Original Version) (Feat. Redman)","artistName":"De La Soul","albumName":"Best Of De La Soul","duration":215.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nwhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nof hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nof shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nwho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh. (Original Version) (Feat. Redman)\n  artist: De La Soul\n  album: Best Of De La Soul\n  duration_ms: 215000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  while it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":30268852,"name":"Oooh (Original Version)","trackName":"Oooh (Original Version)","artistName":"De La Soul feat. Redman","albumName":"Oooh. [CD-Single]","duration":216.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Redman) *\nParty people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill\nThat's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\nAnd when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n(Pos)\nYo, don't scandalize mine\nI spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n(Dove)\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\nShinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n(Pos)\nWhile we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can\nProviding three coats for both child, woman and man\n\nChorus One: Redman\n\nGod bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\nIt go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\nIt went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Pos)\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\nGot your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea\nBetter yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\nA life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\nWhile it muffles your voice\n\n(Dove)\nNow when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\nCause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n(Pos)\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real\n\nChorus Two: Redman\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\nAnd get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\nThen go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n(Dove)\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\nSet backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\nBig money's make the big decisions\nKeep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\n(Pos)\nI had a name for makin paper since paper mache\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn\n\n(Redman)\nDamn God, you're killin it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\n\n(Pos)\nSoundin like they virtual\nThis joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n(Dove)\nTwas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n(Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\nTook all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\nWho fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n(Pos)\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\nChorus Three: Redman\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\nGo - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed\nBrick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n- Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh (Original Version)\n  artist: De La Soul feat. Redman\n  album: Oooh. [CD-Single]\n  duration_ms: 216000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Redman) *\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill\n  That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin your bluff\n  And when it comes to rhymes... (Brick City)\n\n  (Pos)\n  Yo, don't scandalize mine\n  I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n\n  (Pos)\n  While we rockin it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can\n  Providing three coats for both child, woman and man\n\n  Chorus One: Redman\n\n  God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall\n  It go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry click\n  It went - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Pos)\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the ashphalt\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea\n  Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin is the past drug\n  A life filled with (*TWEET*) that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice\n  While it muffles your voice\n\n  (Dove)\n  Now when I'm swimmin through the joint, I put the funk on hold\n  Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n\n  (Pos)\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real\n\n  Chorus Two: Redman\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine\n  And get - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin your fuck on tonight\n  Then go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin our sound\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggaz on the corner holdin me down\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  (Dove)\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks\n  Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat\n  Big money's make the big decisions\n  Keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  (Pos)\n  I had a name for makin paper since paper mache\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggaz reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn\n\n  (Redman)\n  Damn God, you're killin it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n\n  (Pos)\n  Soundin like they virtual\n  This joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  (Dove)\n  Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  (Shhh shhh shh, shhhhh) They did a job\n  Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin emcees\n  Who fail at takin it to rhyme degrees\n\n  (Pos)\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' \"relax your mind, let your conscious be free\"\n\n  Chorus Three: Redman\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggaz, if ya up in the stands\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man\n  Go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed\n  Brick City go - oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  - Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n"},{"id":24066026,"name":"Oooh (Single Mix)","trackName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","artistName":"De La Soul feat. Redman","albumName":"Oooh (Single Mix)","duration":213.002449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\nGet your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\nThat's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\nAnd when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\nYo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\nStraight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\nNever fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\nYo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\nShinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\nWhile we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\nLike the little ball inside the spray can providing three\nCoats for both child, woman, and man\n\nGod bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\nIt go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\nIt went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nIt ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\nGot your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\nI'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\nY'all just rookies to me\nSlidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\nWhy try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\nMan, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\nLike them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\nA life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\nSnatch you fast, wrap that ass\nIn the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\nNow when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\nWe run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\nFlashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\nMost crews are post-current while we're forever\nDirect beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\nGraduated from the you-and-I-versity\nOf hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\nI got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\nGo, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\nI had plans to buy more land, plant corn\nBust kernels on heat, work hard like -\nSetbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\nRockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\nBig money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\nAlive, it's just an intermission\nBack to the second half of the feature flick\nDick stacks and fuck rap\n\nI had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\nNow my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\nWhile you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\nYou don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\nWent from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\nShould incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\nRap cats talk with no will in it\nSoundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\nIt was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\nThey did a job, took all the goodies\nOut from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\nOf shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\nWho fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\nMan, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\nYou need to not get nappy with me\nOr else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\nYo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nTo my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\nYo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\nOooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, yeah\nStraight out the car\nAll cool motherfuckers","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.50] Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n[00:04.46] Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n[00:07.11] That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n[00:10.77] And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n[00:14.33] Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n[00:18.38] Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n[00:20.81] Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n[00:23.44] Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n[00:25.93] Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n[00:28.61] While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n[00:31.16] Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n[00:34.26] Coats for both child, woman, and man\n[00:36.35] God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n[00:39.01] It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:41.58] Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n[00:44.23] It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[00:46.09] It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n[00:48.54] Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n[00:51.82] I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n[00:55.67] Y'all just rookies to me\n[00:57.19] Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n[00:59.90] Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n[01:04.42] Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n[01:07.43] Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n[01:11.53] A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n[01:14.11] Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n[01:15.50] In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n[01:18.06] Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n[01:20.67] 'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n[01:22.55] We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n[01:25.81] Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n[01:28.58] Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n[01:31.02] Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n[01:34.23] Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n[01:36.65] Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n[01:38.24] I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n[01:42.01] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:44.06] Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n[01:47.18] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:48.14] Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n[01:51.96] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:54.06] Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n[01:57.49] Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[01:59.33] Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n[02:02.46] I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n[02:05.18] Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n[02:07.56] Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n[02:10.57] Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n[02:13.01] Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n[02:15.78] Alive, it's just an intermission\n[02:17.54] Back to the second half of the feature flick\n[02:19.41] Dick stacks and fuck rap\n[02:20.68] I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n[02:23.26] Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n[02:25.83] While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n[02:28.70] You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n[02:31.05] Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n[02:33.91] Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n[02:36.47] Rap cats talk with no will in it\n[02:38.52] Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n[02:41.26] It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n[02:44.49] They did a job, took all the goodies\n[02:46.79] Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n[02:49.68] Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n[02:52.10] Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n[02:54.23] Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n[02:57.12] You need to not get nappy with me\n[02:59.12] Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n[03:02.09] Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n[03:05.31] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:06.76] To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n[03:10.45] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:12.35] Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n[03:15.55] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:17.48] Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n[03:20.63] Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n[03:24.13] Yeah, uh-huh\n[03:26.24] Yeah, yeah\n[03:28.99] Straight out the car\n[03:29.94] All cool motherfuckers\n[03:32.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  artist: De La Soul feat. Redman\n  album: Oooh (Single Mix)\n  duration_ms: 213002\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  start_ms: 500\n  end_ms: 4460\n- text: Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  start_ms: 4460\n  end_ms: 7110\n- text: That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  start_ms: 7110\n  end_ms: 10770\n- text: And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n  start_ms: 10770\n  end_ms: 14330\n- text: Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  start_ms: 14330\n  end_ms: 18380\n- text: Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  start_ms: 18380\n  end_ms: 20810\n- text: Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  start_ms: 20810\n  end_ms: 23440\n- text: Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  start_ms: 23440\n  end_ms: 25930\n- text: Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  start_ms: 25930\n  end_ms: 28610\n- text: While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  start_ms: 28610\n  end_ms: 31160\n- text: Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  start_ms: 31160\n  end_ms: 34260\n- text: Coats for both child, woman, and man\n  start_ms: 34260\n  end_ms: 36350\n- text: God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  start_ms: 36350\n  end_ms: 39010\n- text: It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 39010\n  end_ms: 41580\n- text: Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  start_ms: 41580\n  end_ms: 44230\n- text: It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 44230\n  end_ms: 46090\n- text: It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  start_ms: 46090\n  end_ms: 48540\n- text: Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  start_ms: 48540\n  end_ms: 51820\n- text: I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  start_ms: 51820\n  end_ms: 55670\n- text: Y'all just rookies to me\n  start_ms: 55670\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59900\n- text: Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  start_ms: 59900\n  end_ms: 64420\n- text: Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  start_ms: 64420\n  end_ms: 67430\n- text: Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n  start_ms: 67430\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74110\n- text: Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  start_ms: 74110\n  end_ms: 75500\n- text: In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  start_ms: 75500\n  end_ms: 78060\n- text: Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  start_ms: 78060\n  end_ms: 80670\n- text: '''Cause if you don''t, you''ll see the bubbles come up'\n  start_ms: 80670\n  end_ms: 82550\n- text: We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  start_ms: 82550\n  end_ms: 85810\n- text: Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  start_ms: 85810\n  end_ms: 88580\n- text: Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  start_ms: 88580\n  end_ms: 91020\n- text: Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  start_ms: 91020\n  end_ms: 94230\n- text: Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  start_ms: 94230\n  end_ms: 96650\n- text: Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n  start_ms: 96650\n  end_ms: 98240\n- text: I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  start_ms: 98240\n  end_ms: 102010\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 102010\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 107180\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 107180\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114060\n- text: Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  start_ms: 114060\n  end_ms: 117490\n- text: Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 117490\n  end_ms: 119330\n- text: Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  start_ms: 119330\n  end_ms: 122460\n- text: I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  start_ms: 122460\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130570\n- text: Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 130570\n  end_ms: 133010\n- text: Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  start_ms: 133010\n  end_ms: 135780\n- text: Alive, it's just an intermission\n  start_ms: 135780\n  end_ms: 137540\n- text: Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  start_ms: 137540\n  end_ms: 139410\n- text: Dick stacks and fuck rap\n  start_ms: 139410\n  end_ms: 140680\n- text: I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  start_ms: 140680\n  end_ms: 143260\n- text: Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  start_ms: 143260\n  end_ms: 145830\n- text: While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  start_ms: 145830\n  end_ms: 148700\n- text: You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  start_ms: 148700\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 153910\n- text: Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  start_ms: 153910\n  end_ms: 156470\n- text: Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  start_ms: 156470\n  end_ms: 158520\n- text: Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n  start_ms: 158520\n  end_ms: 161260\n- text: It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  start_ms: 161260\n  end_ms: 164490\n- text: They did a job, took all the goodies\n  start_ms: 164490\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169680\n- text: Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  start_ms: 169680\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 174230\n- text: Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  start_ms: 174230\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: You need to not get nappy with me\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 182090\n- text: Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  start_ms: 182090\n  end_ms: 185310\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 185310\n  end_ms: 186760\n- text: To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  start_ms: 186760\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 192350\n- text: Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  start_ms: 192350\n  end_ms: 195550\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 195550\n  end_ms: 197480\n- text: Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  start_ms: 197480\n  end_ms: 200630\n- text: Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  start_ms: 200630\n  end_ms: 204130\n- text: Yeah, uh-huh\n  start_ms: 204130\n  end_ms: 206240\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 206240\n  end_ms: 208990\n- text: Straight out the car\n  start_ms: 208990\n  end_ms: 209940\n- text: All cool motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 209940\n  end_ms: 212100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212100\nplain: |-\n  Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled\n  Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)\n  That's right y'all (y'all), we more than rough (rough), we callin' your bluff (bluff)\n  And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City!)\n\n  Yo, don't scandalize, mine, I spent too much time\n  Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk\n  Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?\n  Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear\n  Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare\n  While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)\n  Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three\n  Coats for both child, woman, and man\n\n  God bless the God, lay these streets wall to wall\n  It go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique\n  It went, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)\n  Got your chin touched by my fam who thought you brought harm, you see\n  I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet, oatmeal cookies\n  Y'all just rookies to me\n  Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D\n  Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo')\n  Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game\n  Like them shorties who claim that afrocentric lovin' is the past drug\n\n  A life filled with (guns)—that's what thugs love\n  Snatch you fast, wrap that ass\n  In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice\n  Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint I put the funk on hold\n  'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up\n\n  We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss\n  Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss\n  Most crews are post-current while we're forever\n  Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages\n  Graduated from the you-and-I-versity\n  Of hard-hitters, for real (yeah)\n\n  I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and it get\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight then I can go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down\n  Go, oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong\n  I had plans to buy more land, plant corn\n  Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -\n  Setbacks is gonna get my ass P.E. hostile\n  Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)\n  Big money makes the big decisions, keep hip-hop\n  Alive, it's just an intermission\n  Back to the second half of the feature flick\n  Dick stacks and fuck rap\n\n  I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)\n  Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play\n  While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker\n  You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor\n  Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it\n  Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it\n  Rap cats talk with no will in it\n  Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo\n\n  It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed\n  They did a job, took all the goodies\n  Out from under the tree (word up?), except the CDs\n  Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' MCs\n  Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees\n  Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes (nah man)\n  You need to not get nappy with me\n  Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free\n\n  Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n  Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke\n  Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh!\n\n  Yeah, uh-huh\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Straight out the car\n  All cool motherfuckers\n"}]