[{"id":9843599,"name":"Young G’s","trackName":"Young G’s","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist","duration":325.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nto the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nthan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nin my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G’s\n artist: Diddy\n album: 'BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist'\n duration_ms: 325000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n in my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":39048785,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy, The Notorious B.I.G., JAY Z","albumName":"BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist","duration":126.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23]Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80]I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44]Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75]Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30]Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53]Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52]Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05]Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22]Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77]Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21]We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29]Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05]Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88]Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39]Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76]Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05]Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25]Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14]Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84]Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88]Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75]Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21]When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97]When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93]Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03]Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75]That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57]Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38]We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50]Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98]Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72]Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62]Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48]Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38]Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80]And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70]It's just reality\n[01:49.57]Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34]These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07]I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73]So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45]'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25]I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18]Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78]Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56]Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68]Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17]Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12]In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92]In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76]But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65]To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98]I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45]Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30]Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92]Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79]Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44]So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49]You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35]Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04]Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68]Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38]I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46]And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47]It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07]'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15]Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37]Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42]And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79]It's just reality\n[03:34.13]Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46]Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34]My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28]GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13]Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62]If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74]My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31]High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39]In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57]Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62]Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13]Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43]And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51]I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40]While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42]And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64]While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48]Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65]Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62]I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22]Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88]Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99]With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40]She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53]The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16]What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16]What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39]Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02]Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08]And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08]It's just reality\n[05:04.06]Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83]Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33]And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55]It's just reality\n[05:21.68]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy, The Notorious B.I.G., JAY Z\n album: 'BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist'\n duration_ms: 125989\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":10117309,"name":"Young G’s","trackName":"Young G’s","artistName":"Diddy feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & JAY‐Z","albumName":"BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist","duration":325.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\n\"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTaking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad will already choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all asking for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\n\nBecause release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\nDriving dirty in J-30's getting bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my china thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.72] Uhh, check it out, uhh\n[00:06.25] \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n[00:13.23] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:14.16] Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.80] Niggas know the deal\n[00:18.30] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:21.55] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:22.88] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:24.99] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:28.06] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:29.04] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:31.15] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:32.65] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:36.04] Your squad will already choke\n[00:38.59] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.65] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:43.71] Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n[00:45.17] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:46.72] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:47.02] Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n[00:50.14] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:53.76] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:55.58] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[00:57.20] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:00.88] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:04.43] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:06.33] That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n[01:06.98] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:10.89] We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n[01:13.10] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n[01:15.70] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:23.96] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.64] Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:29.56] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:31.42] Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n[01:32.35] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.25] It's just reality\n[01:48.78] Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n[01:53.27] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:54.66] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:56.47] So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n[01:59.07] Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n[02:04.03] I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.41] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.85] Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n[02:11.65] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n[02:14.69] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:18.36] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.29] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.93] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:26.18] But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:31.13] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n[02:34.79] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:37.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:40.84] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:41.58] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:43.27] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:44.66] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.96] You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n[02:51.97] Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.55] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:57.57] Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.12] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:03.09] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n[03:05.93] It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n[03:08.15] Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n[03:11.24] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:37.28] Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.63] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.72] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n[03:44.64] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.30] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:48.78] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:51.47] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:55.33] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:58.84] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.32] Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n[04:04.31] Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n[04:08.49] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.92] I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.43] While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n[04:15.68] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.65] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.52] Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.52] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:27.78] I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:29.79] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.61] Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:37.23] With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n[04:39.36] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:44.87] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:45.29] What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n[04:48.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G’s\n artist: Diddy feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & JAY‐Z\n album: 'BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist'\n duration_ms: 325000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uhh, check it out, uhh\n start_ms: 1720\n end_ms: 6250\n- text: '\"Where the Mo''s and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"'\n start_ms: 6250\n end_ms: 13230\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 13230\n end_ms: 14160\n- text: Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 14160\n end_ms: 15800\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15800\n end_ms: 18300\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 18300\n end_ms: 21550\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 21550\n end_ms: 22880\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 22880\n end_ms: 24990\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 24990\n end_ms: 28060\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 28060\n end_ms: 29040\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 29040\n end_ms: 31150\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 31150\n end_ms: 32650\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 32650\n end_ms: 36040\n- text: Your squad will already choke\n start_ms: 36040\n end_ms: 38590\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 38590\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 43710\n- text: Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n start_ms: 43710\n end_ms: 45170\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45170\n end_ms: 46720\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 46720\n end_ms: 47020\n- text: Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n start_ms: 47020\n end_ms: 50140\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 50140\n end_ms: 53760\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 53760\n end_ms: 55580\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 55580\n end_ms: 57200\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 57200\n end_ms: 60880\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 60880\n end_ms: 64430\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 64430\n end_ms: 66330\n- text: That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n start_ms: 66330\n end_ms: 66980\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 66980\n end_ms: 70890\n- text: We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n start_ms: 70890\n end_ms: 73100\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n start_ms: 73100\n end_ms: 75700\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 75700\n end_ms: 83960\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 83960\n end_ms: 86640\n- text: Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86640\n end_ms: 89560\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 89560\n end_ms: 91420\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 91420\n end_ms: 92350\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 92350\n end_ms: 106250\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106250\n end_ms: 108780\n- text: Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n start_ms: 108780\n end_ms: 113270\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 113270\n end_ms: 114660\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 114660\n end_ms: 116470\n- text: So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 116470\n end_ms: 119070\n- text: Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n start_ms: 119070\n end_ms: 124030\n- text: I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 124030\n end_ms: 126410\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126410\n end_ms: 128850\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n start_ms: 128850\n end_ms: 131650\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n start_ms: 131650\n end_ms: 134690\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134690\n end_ms: 138360\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 138360\n end_ms: 140290\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140290\n end_ms: 142930\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142930\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 151130\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n start_ms: 151130\n end_ms: 154790\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154790\n end_ms: 157450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 157450\n end_ms: 160840\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 160840\n end_ms: 161580\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 161580\n end_ms: 163270\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 163270\n end_ms: 164660\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 164660\n end_ms: 168960\n- text: You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n start_ms: 168960\n end_ms: 171970\n- text: Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171970\n end_ms: 174550\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174550\n end_ms: 177570\n- text: Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 177570\n end_ms: 180120\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180120\n end_ms: 183090\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n start_ms: 183090\n end_ms: 185930\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n start_ms: 185930\n end_ms: 188150\n- text: Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n start_ms: 188150\n end_ms: 191240\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 191240\n end_ms: 217280\n- text: Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 217280\n end_ms: 219630\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219630\n end_ms: 221720\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n start_ms: 221720\n end_ms: 224640\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 224640\n end_ms: 227300\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227300\n end_ms: 228780\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 228780\n end_ms: 231470\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 231470\n end_ms: 235330\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 235330\n end_ms: 238840\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 238840\n end_ms: 241320\n- text: Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n start_ms: 241320\n end_ms: 244310\n- text: Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n start_ms: 244310\n end_ms: 248490\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 248490\n end_ms: 249920\n- text: I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249920\n end_ms: 252430\n- text: While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n start_ms: 252430\n end_ms: 255680\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255680\n end_ms: 258650\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258650\n end_ms: 261520\n- text: Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261520\n end_ms: 264520\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264520\n end_ms: 267780\n- text: I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 267780\n end_ms: 269790\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 269790\n end_ms: 272610\n- text: Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272610\n end_ms: 277230\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n start_ms: 277230\n end_ms: 279360\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 279360\n end_ms: 284870\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 284870\n end_ms: 285290\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n start_ms: 285290\n end_ms: 288720\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 288720\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad will already choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n\n Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n"},{"id":3663761,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":1672028,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out (Explicit Version)","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out (Explicit Version)\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":27332032,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"S. Carter Collection","duration":319.368,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy\n album: S. Carter Collection\n duration_ms: 319368\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":26035464,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"S. Carter Collection","duration":321.906939,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy\n album: S. Carter Collection\n duration_ms: 321907\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":9331340,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\n\"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTaking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad will already choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all asking for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\n\nBecause release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\nDriving dirty in J-30's getting bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my china thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.72] Uhh, check it out, uhh\n[00:06.25] \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n[00:13.23] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:14.16] Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.80] Niggas know the deal\n[00:18.30] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:21.55] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:22.88] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:24.99] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:28.06] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:29.04] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:31.15] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:32.65] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:36.04] Your squad will already choke\n[00:38.59] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.65] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:43.71] Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n[00:45.17] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:46.72] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:47.02] Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n[00:50.14] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:53.76] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:55.58] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[00:57.20] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:00.88] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:04.43] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:06.33] That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n[01:06.98] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:10.89] We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n[01:13.10] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n[01:15.70] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:23.96] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.64] Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:29.56] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:31.42] Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n[01:32.35] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.25] It's just reality\n[01:48.78] Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n[01:53.27] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:54.66] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:56.47] So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n[01:59.07] Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n[02:04.03] I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.41] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.85] Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n[02:11.65] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n[02:14.69] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:18.36] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.29] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.93] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:26.18] But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:31.13] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n[02:34.79] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:37.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:40.84] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:41.58] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:43.27] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:44.66] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.96] You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n[02:51.97] Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.55] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:57.57] Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.12] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:03.09] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n[03:05.93] It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n[03:08.15] Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n[03:11.24] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:37.28] Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.63] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.72] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n[03:44.64] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.30] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:48.78] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:51.47] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:55.33] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:58.84] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.32] Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n[04:04.31] Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n[04:08.49] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.92] I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.43] While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n[04:15.68] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.65] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.52] Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.52] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:27.78] I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:29.79] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.61] Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:37.23] With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n[04:39.36] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:44.87] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:45.29] What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n[04:48.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy\n album: 'BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist'\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uhh, check it out, uhh\n start_ms: 1720\n end_ms: 6250\n- text: '\"Where the Mo''s and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"'\n start_ms: 6250\n end_ms: 13230\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 13230\n end_ms: 14160\n- text: Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 14160\n end_ms: 15800\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15800\n end_ms: 18300\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 18300\n end_ms: 21550\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 21550\n end_ms: 22880\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 22880\n end_ms: 24990\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 24990\n end_ms: 28060\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 28060\n end_ms: 29040\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 29040\n end_ms: 31150\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 31150\n end_ms: 32650\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 32650\n end_ms: 36040\n- text: Your squad will already choke\n start_ms: 36040\n end_ms: 38590\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 38590\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 43710\n- text: Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n start_ms: 43710\n end_ms: 45170\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45170\n end_ms: 46720\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 46720\n end_ms: 47020\n- text: Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n start_ms: 47020\n end_ms: 50140\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 50140\n end_ms: 53760\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 53760\n end_ms: 55580\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 55580\n end_ms: 57200\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 57200\n end_ms: 60880\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 60880\n end_ms: 64430\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 64430\n end_ms: 66330\n- text: That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n start_ms: 66330\n end_ms: 66980\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 66980\n end_ms: 70890\n- text: We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n start_ms: 70890\n end_ms: 73100\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n start_ms: 73100\n end_ms: 75700\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 75700\n end_ms: 83960\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 83960\n end_ms: 86640\n- text: Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86640\n end_ms: 89560\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 89560\n end_ms: 91420\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 91420\n end_ms: 92350\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 92350\n end_ms: 106250\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106250\n end_ms: 108780\n- text: Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n start_ms: 108780\n end_ms: 113270\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 113270\n end_ms: 114660\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 114660\n end_ms: 116470\n- text: So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 116470\n end_ms: 119070\n- text: Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n start_ms: 119070\n end_ms: 124030\n- text: I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 124030\n end_ms: 126410\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126410\n end_ms: 128850\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n start_ms: 128850\n end_ms: 131650\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n start_ms: 131650\n end_ms: 134690\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134690\n end_ms: 138360\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 138360\n end_ms: 140290\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140290\n end_ms: 142930\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142930\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 151130\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n start_ms: 151130\n end_ms: 154790\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154790\n end_ms: 157450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 157450\n end_ms: 160840\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 160840\n end_ms: 161580\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 161580\n end_ms: 163270\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 163270\n end_ms: 164660\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 164660\n end_ms: 168960\n- text: You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n start_ms: 168960\n end_ms: 171970\n- text: Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171970\n end_ms: 174550\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174550\n end_ms: 177570\n- text: Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 177570\n end_ms: 180120\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180120\n end_ms: 183090\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n start_ms: 183090\n end_ms: 185930\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n start_ms: 185930\n end_ms: 188150\n- text: Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n start_ms: 188150\n end_ms: 191240\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 191240\n end_ms: 217280\n- text: Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 217280\n end_ms: 219630\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219630\n end_ms: 221720\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n start_ms: 221720\n end_ms: 224640\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 224640\n end_ms: 227300\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227300\n end_ms: 228780\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 228780\n end_ms: 231470\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 231470\n end_ms: 235330\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 235330\n end_ms: 238840\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 238840\n end_ms: 241320\n- text: Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n start_ms: 241320\n end_ms: 244310\n- text: Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n start_ms: 244310\n end_ms: 248490\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 248490\n end_ms: 249920\n- text: I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249920\n end_ms: 252430\n- text: While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n start_ms: 252430\n end_ms: 255680\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255680\n end_ms: 258650\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258650\n end_ms: 261520\n- text: Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261520\n end_ms: 264520\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264520\n end_ms: 267780\n- text: I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 267780\n end_ms: 269790\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 269790\n end_ms: 272610\n- text: Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272610\n end_ms: 277230\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n start_ms: 277230\n end_ms: 279360\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 279360\n end_ms: 284870\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 284870\n end_ms: 285290\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n start_ms: 285290\n end_ms: 288720\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 288720\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad will already choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n\n Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n"},{"id":19490360,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"P. Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":325.799184,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nto the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nthan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nin my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: P. Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 325799\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n in my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":31671535,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Puff Daddy/P. Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nto the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nthan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nin my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Puff Daddy/P. Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n in my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":13361126,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy / The Notorious B.I.G. / JAY-Z","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy / The Notorious B.I.G. / JAY-Z\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":12477753,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy, JAY-Z, The Notorious B.I.G.","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy, JAY-Z, The Notorious B.I.G.\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":27261509,"name":"Young G's","trackName":"Young G's","artistName":"Diddy; The Notorious B.I.G.; JAY-Z","albumName":"Coffee Shop Rap","duration":325.733333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's\n artist: Diddy; The Notorious B.I.G.; JAY-Z\n album: Coffee Shop Rap\n duration_ms: 325733\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":40036859,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious","artistName":"P. Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggaz know the deal\nNiggaz know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggaz bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\nReoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nto the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nthan Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nin my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\nDrivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin niggaz with ...","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious\n artist: P. Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 325624\n instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggaz know the deal\n Niggaz know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggaz bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome\n Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n in my circumfrence, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent\n Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin niggaz with ...\n"},{"id":32570155,"name":"Young G's (feat. Notorious B.I.G.","trackName":"Young G's (feat. Notorious B.I.G.","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.27] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.87] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.46] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.76] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.58] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.53] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.00] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.27] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.76] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.23] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.20] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.81] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.37] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.72] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.07] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.29] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.19] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.87] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.80] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.74] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.91] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.99] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.01] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.76] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.56] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.36] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.46] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.43] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.83] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.53] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.09] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.78] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.29] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.13] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.66] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.14] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.15] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.95] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.71] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.67] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.97] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.41] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.29] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.95] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.72] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.42] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.37] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.10] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.70] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.40] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.43] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.44] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.09] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.35] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.40] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.12] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.49] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.35] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.22] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.11] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.79] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.38] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.36] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.54] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.61] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.15] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.41] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.58] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.37] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.49] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.65] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.49] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.62] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.65] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.26] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.81] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.95] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.45] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.18] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.14] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.04] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.05] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.59] It's just reality\n[05:21.66] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. Notorious B.I.G.\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2270\n end_ms: 7870\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7870\n end_ms: 10460\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10460\n end_ms: 12760\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12760\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16580\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16580\n end_ms: 18530\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18530\n end_ms: 20000\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20000\n end_ms: 22270\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22270\n end_ms: 24760\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24760\n end_ms: 27230\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27230\n end_ms: 30200\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30200\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35810\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35810\n end_ms: 37370\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37370\n end_ms: 39720\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39720\n end_ms: 42070\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42070\n end_ms: 45290\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45290\n end_ms: 47190\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47190\n end_ms: 49870\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49870\n end_ms: 52800\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52800\n end_ms: 55740\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55740\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60910\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60910\n end_ms: 63990\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63990\n end_ms: 67010\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67010\n end_ms: 69760\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69760\n end_ms: 72560\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72560\n end_ms: 75360\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75360\n end_ms: 78460\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78460\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90430\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90430\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100830\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100830\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109530\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109530\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115090\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115090\n end_ms: 117780\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117780\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123290\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123290\n end_ms: 126130\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126130\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134660\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134660\n end_ms: 137140\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137140\n end_ms: 140150\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140150\n end_ms: 142950\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142950\n end_ms: 145710\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145710\n end_ms: 148670\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148670\n end_ms: 151970\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151970\n end_ms: 154410\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154410\n end_ms: 157290\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157290\n end_ms: 159950\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159950\n end_ms: 162720\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162720\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168420\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168420\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 174100\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174100\n end_ms: 176700\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176700\n end_ms: 180400\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180400\n end_ms: 182430\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182430\n end_ms: 185440\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185440\n end_ms: 188090\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188090\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195350\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195350\n end_ms: 202400\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202400\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214120\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214120\n end_ms: 216490\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216490\n end_ms: 219350\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219350\n end_ms: 221220\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221220\n end_ms: 225110\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225110\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230790\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230790\n end_ms: 233380\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233380\n end_ms: 236360\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236360\n end_ms: 239540\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239540\n end_ms: 241610\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241610\n end_ms: 245150\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245150\n end_ms: 247410\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247410\n end_ms: 249580\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249580\n end_ms: 252370\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252370\n end_ms: 255490\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255490\n end_ms: 258650\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258650\n end_ms: 261490\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261490\n end_ms: 264620\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264620\n end_ms: 266650\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266650\n end_ms: 270260\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270260\n end_ms: 272810\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272810\n end_ms: 275950\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275950\n end_ms: 278450\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278450\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284180\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284180\n end_ms: 291140\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291140\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296040\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296040\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304050\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304050\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320590\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320590\n end_ms: 321660\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321660\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":3663763,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy, The Notorious B.I.G., JAY-Z","albumName":"BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy, The Notorious B.I.G., JAY-Z\n album: 'BAD BOY CELEBRATES DIDDY: The Artist'\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":28227109,"name":"Young G's (with Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (with Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out (with The Family)","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.27] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.87] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.46] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.76] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.58] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.53] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.00] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.27] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.76] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.23] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.20] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.81] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.37] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.72] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.07] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.29] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.19] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.87] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.80] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.74] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.91] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.99] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.01] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.76] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.56] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.36] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.46] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.43] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.83] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.53] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.09] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.78] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.29] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.13] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.66] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.14] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.15] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.95] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.71] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.67] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.97] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.41] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.29] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.95] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.72] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.42] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.37] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.10] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.70] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.40] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.43] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.44] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.09] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.35] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.40] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.12] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.49] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.35] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.22] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.11] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.79] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.38] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.36] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.54] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.61] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.15] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.41] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.58] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.37] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.49] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.65] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.49] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.62] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.65] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.26] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.81] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.95] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.45] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.18] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.14] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.04] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.05] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.59] It's just reality\n[05:21.66] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (with Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out (with The Family)\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2270\n end_ms: 7870\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7870\n end_ms: 10460\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10460\n end_ms: 12760\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12760\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16580\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16580\n end_ms: 18530\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18530\n end_ms: 20000\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20000\n end_ms: 22270\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22270\n end_ms: 24760\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24760\n end_ms: 27230\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27230\n end_ms: 30200\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30200\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35810\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35810\n end_ms: 37370\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37370\n end_ms: 39720\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39720\n end_ms: 42070\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42070\n end_ms: 45290\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45290\n end_ms: 47190\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47190\n end_ms: 49870\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49870\n end_ms: 52800\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52800\n end_ms: 55740\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55740\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60910\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60910\n end_ms: 63990\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63990\n end_ms: 67010\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67010\n end_ms: 69760\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69760\n end_ms: 72560\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72560\n end_ms: 75360\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75360\n end_ms: 78460\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78460\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90430\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90430\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100830\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100830\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109530\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109530\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115090\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115090\n end_ms: 117780\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117780\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123290\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123290\n end_ms: 126130\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126130\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134660\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134660\n end_ms: 137140\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137140\n end_ms: 140150\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140150\n end_ms: 142950\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142950\n end_ms: 145710\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145710\n end_ms: 148670\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148670\n end_ms: 151970\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151970\n end_ms: 154410\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154410\n end_ms: 157290\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157290\n end_ms: 159950\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159950\n end_ms: 162720\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162720\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168420\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168420\n end_ms: 171370\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171370\n end_ms: 174100\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174100\n end_ms: 176700\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176700\n end_ms: 180400\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180400\n end_ms: 182430\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182430\n end_ms: 185440\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185440\n end_ms: 188090\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188090\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195350\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195350\n end_ms: 202400\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202400\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214120\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214120\n end_ms: 216490\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216490\n end_ms: 219350\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219350\n end_ms: 221220\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221220\n end_ms: 225110\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225110\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230790\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230790\n end_ms: 233380\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233380\n end_ms: 236360\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236360\n end_ms: 239540\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239540\n end_ms: 241610\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241610\n end_ms: 245150\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245150\n end_ms: 247410\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247410\n end_ms: 249580\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249580\n end_ms: 252370\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252370\n end_ms: 255490\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255490\n end_ms: 258650\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258650\n end_ms: 261490\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261490\n end_ms: 264620\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264620\n end_ms: 266650\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266650\n end_ms: 270260\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270260\n end_ms: 272810\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272810\n end_ms: 275950\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275950\n end_ms: 278450\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278450\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284180\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284180\n end_ms: 291140\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291140\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296040\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296040\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304050\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304050\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320590\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320590\n end_ms: 321660\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321660\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":9291773,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out","duration":326.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uhh, check it out, uhh\n\"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTaking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad will already choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all asking for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\n\nBecause release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\nCause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\nI been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\nKnow these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\nCause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\nDriving dirty in J-30's getting bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my china thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective.","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.72] Uhh, check it out, uhh\n[00:06.25] \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n[00:13.23] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:14.16] Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.80] Niggas know the deal\n[00:18.30] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:21.55] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:22.88] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:24.99] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:28.06] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:29.04] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:31.15] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:32.65] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:36.04] Your squad will already choke\n[00:38.59] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.65] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:43.71] Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n[00:45.17] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:46.72] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:47.02] Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n[00:50.14] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:53.76] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:55.58] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[00:57.20] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:00.88] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:04.43] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:06.33] That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n[01:06.98] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:10.89] We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n[01:13.10] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n[01:15.70] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:23.96] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.64] Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:29.56] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:31.42] Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n[01:32.35] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.25] It's just reality\n[01:48.78] Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n[01:53.27] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:54.66] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:56.47] So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n[01:59.07] Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n[02:04.03] I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.41] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.85] Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n[02:11.65] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n[02:14.69] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:18.36] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.29] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.93] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:26.18] But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:31.13] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n[02:34.79] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:37.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:40.84] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:41.58] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:43.27] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:44.66] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.96] You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n[02:51.97] Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.55] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:57.57] Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.12] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:03.09] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n[03:05.93] It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n[03:08.15] Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n[03:11.24] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:37.28] Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.63] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.72] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n[03:44.64] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.30] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:48.78] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:51.47] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:55.33] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:58.84] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.32] Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n[04:04.31] Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n[04:08.49] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.92] I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.43] While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n[04:15.68] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.65] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.52] Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.52] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:27.78] I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:29.79] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.61] Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:37.23] With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n[04:39.36] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:44.87] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:45.29] What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n[04:48.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out\n duration_ms: 326000\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uhh, check it out, uhh\n start_ms: 1720\n end_ms: 6250\n- text: '\"Where the Mo''s and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"'\n start_ms: 6250\n end_ms: 13230\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 13230\n end_ms: 14160\n- text: Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 14160\n end_ms: 15800\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15800\n end_ms: 18300\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 18300\n end_ms: 21550\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 21550\n end_ms: 22880\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 22880\n end_ms: 24990\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 24990\n end_ms: 28060\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 28060\n end_ms: 29040\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 29040\n end_ms: 31150\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 31150\n end_ms: 32650\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 32650\n end_ms: 36040\n- text: Your squad will already choke\n start_ms: 36040\n end_ms: 38590\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 38590\n end_ms: 39650\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39650\n end_ms: 43710\n- text: Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n start_ms: 43710\n end_ms: 45170\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45170\n end_ms: 46720\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 46720\n end_ms: 47020\n- text: Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n start_ms: 47020\n end_ms: 50140\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 50140\n end_ms: 53760\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 53760\n end_ms: 55580\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 55580\n end_ms: 57200\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 57200\n end_ms: 60880\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 60880\n end_ms: 64430\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 64430\n end_ms: 66330\n- text: That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n start_ms: 66330\n end_ms: 66980\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 66980\n end_ms: 70890\n- text: We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n start_ms: 70890\n end_ms: 73100\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n start_ms: 73100\n end_ms: 75700\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 75700\n end_ms: 83960\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 83960\n end_ms: 86640\n- text: Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86640\n end_ms: 89560\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 89560\n end_ms: 91420\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 91420\n end_ms: 92350\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 92350\n end_ms: 106250\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106250\n end_ms: 108780\n- text: Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n start_ms: 108780\n end_ms: 113270\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 113270\n end_ms: 114660\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 114660\n end_ms: 116470\n- text: So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 116470\n end_ms: 119070\n- text: Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n start_ms: 119070\n end_ms: 124030\n- text: I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 124030\n end_ms: 126410\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126410\n end_ms: 128850\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n start_ms: 128850\n end_ms: 131650\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n start_ms: 131650\n end_ms: 134690\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134690\n end_ms: 138360\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 138360\n end_ms: 140290\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140290\n end_ms: 142930\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142930\n end_ms: 146180\n- text: But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 146180\n end_ms: 151130\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n start_ms: 151130\n end_ms: 154790\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154790\n end_ms: 157450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 157450\n end_ms: 160840\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 160840\n end_ms: 161580\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 161580\n end_ms: 163270\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 163270\n end_ms: 164660\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 164660\n end_ms: 168960\n- text: You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n start_ms: 168960\n end_ms: 171970\n- text: Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171970\n end_ms: 174550\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174550\n end_ms: 177570\n- text: Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 177570\n end_ms: 180120\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180120\n end_ms: 183090\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n start_ms: 183090\n end_ms: 185930\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n start_ms: 185930\n end_ms: 188150\n- text: Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n start_ms: 188150\n end_ms: 191240\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 191240\n end_ms: 217280\n- text: Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 217280\n end_ms: 219630\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219630\n end_ms: 221720\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n start_ms: 221720\n end_ms: 224640\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 224640\n end_ms: 227300\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227300\n end_ms: 228780\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 228780\n end_ms: 231470\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 231470\n end_ms: 235330\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 235330\n end_ms: 238840\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 238840\n end_ms: 241320\n- text: Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n start_ms: 241320\n end_ms: 244310\n- text: Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n start_ms: 244310\n end_ms: 248490\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 248490\n end_ms: 249920\n- text: I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249920\n end_ms: 252430\n- text: While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n start_ms: 252430\n end_ms: 255680\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255680\n end_ms: 258650\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258650\n end_ms: 261520\n- text: Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261520\n end_ms: 264520\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264520\n end_ms: 267780\n- text: I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 267780\n end_ms: 269790\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 269790\n end_ms: 272610\n- text: Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272610\n end_ms: 277230\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n start_ms: 277230\n end_ms: 279360\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 279360\n end_ms: 284870\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 284870\n end_ms: 285290\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n start_ms: 285290\n end_ms: 288720\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 288720\nplain: |-\n Uhh, check it out, uhh\n \"Where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee?!\"\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Taking it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad will already choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all asking for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately cause now I, charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n\n Because release dates bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets\n\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead\n Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flown through your head\n I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the falling of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that cause he's observant\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the ought shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes biting me cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it\n Know these beats is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty in a girdle coming out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rapping or clapping have it your way\n Cause if that's my dough you're trapping, I'm clapping your way\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two kis in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spitting my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggas represent\n Driving dirty in J-30's getting bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smoking trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killing niggas with punanny, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watching lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirting off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flying in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my china thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective.\n"},{"id":18096175,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"Summer Jazzy Sounds","duration":325.733333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy\n album: Summer Jazzy Sounds\n duration_ms: 325733\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"},{"id":16279586,"name":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","trackName":"Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)","artistName":"Diddy","albumName":"No Way Out (25th Anniversary Expanded Edition)","duration":325.733333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Uh, check it out, uh\nI steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\nFuck all that pretty shit\nTakin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\nNiggas know the deal\nNiggas know who the Don is\nLive from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\nPeep game, uhh, what, what\n\nOut of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\nCome fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\nWe built them radars to stay free from the cops\nCrucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\nAre we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\nYour squad arti-choke\nWatch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\nAin't no joke, when your ones don't show\nNigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\nThrough hard work I earn the vault\nPromise God to never look back or I turn to salt\nGot nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\nGuess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\nCan't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\nWhen you all fucked up, and can't get no break\nWhen your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\nBe on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\nFuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\nThat's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\nNigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\nWe still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\nPropellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\nBillboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\nWhy niggas bring the ruckus?\nBecause release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nYeah, make you a deal, check\nThese here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\nI try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\nSo I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\nI been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\nSome say I been here before because of the way I zone\nSome said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\nReoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\nWon't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\nMentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\nIn the physical, one seems, like a lost body\nIn fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\nBut it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\nTo the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\nI got it locked like the late Bob Marley\nPardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\nSolemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\nNiggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\nKnow they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\nSo I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\nYou walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\nKnow these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\nDestined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\nHad a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\nI hated algebra but I loved to multiply\nAnd I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\nIt's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nDamn it feel good to see people up on it\nFlipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\nMy brain is haunted, with mean dreams\nGS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\nThan Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\nIf they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\nMy lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\nHigh caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\nIn my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\nBulletproof vestes under they coochie\nSpittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\nDrivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\nAnd to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\nI be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\nWhile you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\nAnd Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\nWhile I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\nGot lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\nThem country niggas call me Frank White\nI'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\nSunrise open my eyes no surprise\nGot my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\nWith all the utensils, who hang my China thing\nShe half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\nThe situation ain't accidental\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\nWhat? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality\n\nJust some ghetto boys\nLiving in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\nAnd everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\nIt's just reality","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.23] Uh, check it out, uh\n[00:07.80] I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n[00:10.44] Fuck all that pretty shit\n[00:12.75] Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n[00:15.30] Niggas know the deal\n[00:16.53] Niggas know who the Don is\n[00:18.52] Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n[00:20.05] Peep game, uhh, what, what\n[00:22.22] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n[00:24.77] Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n[00:27.21] We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n[00:30.29] Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n[00:33.05] Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n[00:35.88] Your squad arti-choke\n[00:37.39] Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n[00:39.76] Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n[00:42.05] Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n[00:45.25] Through hard work I earn the vault\n[00:47.14] Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n[00:49.84] Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n[00:52.88] Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n[00:55.75] Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n[00:58.21] When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n[01:00.97] When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n[01:03.93] Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n[01:07.03] Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n[01:09.75] That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n[01:12.57] Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n[01:15.38] We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n[01:18.50] Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n[01:21.98] Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n[01:24.72] Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n[01:26.62] Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n[01:30.48] Just some ghetto boys\n[01:35.38] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[01:40.80] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[01:46.70] It's just reality\n[01:49.57] Yeah, make you a deal, check\n[01:52.34] These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n[01:55.07] I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n[01:57.73] So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n[02:00.45] 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n[02:03.25] I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n[02:06.18] Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n[02:08.78] Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n[02:11.56] Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n[02:14.68] Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n[02:17.17] Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n[02:20.12] In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n[02:22.92] In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n[02:25.76] But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n[02:28.65] To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n[02:31.98] I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n[02:34.45] Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n[02:37.30] Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n[02:39.92] Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n[02:42.79] Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n[02:45.44] So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n[02:48.49] You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n[02:51.35] Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n[02:54.04] Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n[02:56.68] Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n[03:00.38] I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n[03:02.46] And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n[03:05.47] It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n[03:08.07] 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n[03:11.15] Just some ghetto boys\n[03:15.37] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[03:22.42] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[03:27.79] It's just reality\n[03:34.13] Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n[03:36.46] Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n[03:39.34] My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n[03:41.28] GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n[03:45.13] Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n[03:47.62] If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n[03:50.74] My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n[03:53.31] High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n[03:56.39] In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n[03:59.57] Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n[04:01.62] Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n[04:05.13] Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n[04:07.43] And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n[04:09.51] I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n[04:12.40] While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n[04:15.42] And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n[04:18.64] While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n[04:21.48] Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n[04:24.65] Them country niggas call me Frank White\n[04:26.62] I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n[04:30.22] Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n[04:32.88] Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n[04:35.99] With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n[04:38.40] She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n[04:41.53] The situation ain't accidental\n[04:44.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:51.16] What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n[04:53.39] Just some ghetto boys\n[04:55.02] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[04:56.08] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[04:58.08] It's just reality\n[05:04.06] Just some ghetto boys\n[05:08.83] Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n[05:15.33] And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n[05:20.55] It's just reality\n[05:21.68] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n title: Young G's (feat. The Notorious B.I.G. & Jay-Z)\n artist: Diddy\n album: No Way Out (25th Anniversary Expanded Edition)\n duration_ms: 325733\n instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Uh, check it out, uh\n start_ms: 2230\n end_ms: 7800\n- text: I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n start_ms: 7800\n end_ms: 10440\n- text: Fuck all that pretty shit\n start_ms: 10440\n end_ms: 12750\n- text: Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n start_ms: 12750\n end_ms: 15300\n- text: Niggas know the deal\n start_ms: 15300\n end_ms: 16530\n- text: Niggas know who the Don is\n start_ms: 16530\n end_ms: 18520\n- text: Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n start_ms: 18520\n end_ms: 20050\n- text: Peep game, uhh, what, what\n start_ms: 20050\n end_ms: 22220\n- text: Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n start_ms: 22220\n end_ms: 24770\n- text: Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n start_ms: 24770\n end_ms: 27210\n- text: We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n start_ms: 27210\n end_ms: 30290\n- text: Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n start_ms: 30290\n end_ms: 33050\n- text: Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n start_ms: 33050\n end_ms: 35880\n- text: Your squad arti-choke\n start_ms: 35880\n end_ms: 37390\n- text: Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n start_ms: 37390\n end_ms: 39760\n- text: Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n start_ms: 39760\n end_ms: 42050\n- text: Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n start_ms: 42050\n end_ms: 45250\n- text: Through hard work I earn the vault\n start_ms: 45250\n end_ms: 47140\n- text: Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n start_ms: 47140\n end_ms: 49840\n- text: Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n start_ms: 49840\n end_ms: 52880\n- text: Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n start_ms: 52880\n end_ms: 55750\n- text: Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n start_ms: 55750\n end_ms: 58210\n- text: When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n start_ms: 58210\n end_ms: 60970\n- text: When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n start_ms: 60970\n end_ms: 63930\n- text: Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n start_ms: 63930\n end_ms: 67030\n- text: Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n start_ms: 67030\n end_ms: 69750\n- text: That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n start_ms: 69750\n end_ms: 72570\n- text: Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n start_ms: 72570\n end_ms: 75380\n- text: We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n start_ms: 75380\n end_ms: 78500\n- text: Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n start_ms: 78500\n end_ms: 81980\n- text: Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n start_ms: 81980\n end_ms: 84720\n- text: Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n start_ms: 84720\n end_ms: 86620\n- text: Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n start_ms: 86620\n end_ms: 90480\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 90480\n end_ms: 95380\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 95380\n end_ms: 100800\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 100800\n end_ms: 106700\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 106700\n end_ms: 109570\n- text: Yeah, make you a deal, check\n start_ms: 109570\n end_ms: 112340\n- text: These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n start_ms: 112340\n end_ms: 115070\n- text: I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n start_ms: 115070\n end_ms: 117730\n- text: So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n start_ms: 117730\n end_ms: 120450\n- text: '''Cause when it''s on, then it''s on, the shots flowin'' through your head'\n start_ms: 120450\n end_ms: 123250\n- text: I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n start_ms: 123250\n end_ms: 126180\n- text: Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n start_ms: 126180\n end_ms: 128780\n- text: Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n start_ms: 128780\n end_ms: 131560\n- text: Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n start_ms: 131560\n end_ms: 134680\n- text: Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n start_ms: 134680\n end_ms: 137170\n- text: Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n start_ms: 137170\n end_ms: 140120\n- text: In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n start_ms: 140120\n end_ms: 142920\n- text: In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n start_ms: 142920\n end_ms: 145760\n- text: But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n start_ms: 145760\n end_ms: 148650\n- text: To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n start_ms: 148650\n end_ms: 151980\n- text: I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n start_ms: 151980\n end_ms: 154450\n- text: Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n start_ms: 154450\n end_ms: 157300\n- text: Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n start_ms: 157300\n end_ms: 159920\n- text: Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n start_ms: 159920\n end_ms: 162790\n- text: Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n start_ms: 162790\n end_ms: 165440\n- text: So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n start_ms: 165440\n end_ms: 168490\n- text: You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n start_ms: 168490\n end_ms: 171350\n- text: Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n start_ms: 171350\n end_ms: 174040\n- text: Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n start_ms: 174040\n end_ms: 176680\n- text: Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n start_ms: 176680\n end_ms: 180380\n- text: I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n start_ms: 180380\n end_ms: 182460\n- text: And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n start_ms: 182460\n end_ms: 185470\n- text: It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n start_ms: 185470\n end_ms: 188070\n- text: '''Cause if that''s my dough you''re trappin'', I''m clappin'' your way'\n start_ms: 188070\n end_ms: 191150\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 191150\n end_ms: 195370\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 195370\n end_ms: 202420\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 202420\n end_ms: 207790\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 207790\n end_ms: 214130\n- text: Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n start_ms: 214130\n end_ms: 216460\n- text: Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n start_ms: 216460\n end_ms: 219340\n- text: My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n start_ms: 219340\n end_ms: 221280\n- text: GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n start_ms: 221280\n end_ms: 225130\n- text: Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n start_ms: 225130\n end_ms: 227620\n- text: If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n start_ms: 227620\n end_ms: 230740\n- text: My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n start_ms: 230740\n end_ms: 233310\n- text: High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n start_ms: 233310\n end_ms: 236390\n- text: In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n start_ms: 236390\n end_ms: 239570\n- text: Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n start_ms: 239570\n end_ms: 241620\n- text: Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n start_ms: 241620\n end_ms: 245130\n- text: Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n start_ms: 245130\n end_ms: 247430\n- text: And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n start_ms: 247430\n end_ms: 249510\n- text: I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n start_ms: 249510\n end_ms: 252400\n- text: While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n start_ms: 252400\n end_ms: 255420\n- text: And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n start_ms: 255420\n end_ms: 258640\n- text: While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n start_ms: 258640\n end_ms: 261480\n- text: Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n start_ms: 261480\n end_ms: 264650\n- text: Them country niggas call me Frank White\n start_ms: 264650\n end_ms: 266620\n- text: I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n start_ms: 266620\n end_ms: 270220\n- text: Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n start_ms: 270220\n end_ms: 272880\n- text: Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n start_ms: 272880\n end_ms: 275990\n- text: With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n start_ms: 275990\n end_ms: 278400\n- text: She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n start_ms: 278400\n end_ms: 281530\n- text: The situation ain't accidental\n start_ms: 281530\n end_ms: 284160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 284160\n end_ms: 291160\n- text: What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n start_ms: 291160\n end_ms: 293390\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 293390\n end_ms: 295020\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 295020\n end_ms: 296080\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 296080\n end_ms: 298080\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 298080\n end_ms: 304060\n- text: Just some ghetto boys\n start_ms: 304060\n end_ms: 308830\n- text: Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n start_ms: 308830\n end_ms: 315330\n- text: And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n start_ms: 315330\n end_ms: 320550\n- text: It's just reality\n start_ms: 320550\n end_ms: 321680\n- text: ''\n start_ms: 321680\nplain: |-\n Uh, check it out, uh\n I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee!\n\n Fuck all that pretty shit\n Takin' it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers\n Niggas know the deal\n Niggas know who the Don is\n Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one\n Peep game, uhh, what, what\n\n Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars\n Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars\n We built them radars to stay free from the cops\n Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop\n Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke\n Your squad arti-choke\n Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke\n Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show\n Nigga I know, might say \"Been There Done That\" like Dre\n Through hard work I earn the vault\n Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt\n Got nice watches, nice cars, nice bitches, and rings\n Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things\n Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake\n When you all fucked up, and can't get no break\n When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it\n Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it\n Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit\n That's what I did, now they all askin' for hits\n Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known\n We still fly but separately 'cause now I charter my own\n Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them player haters jealous\n Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us\n Why niggas bring the ruckus?\n Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Yeah, make you a deal, check\n These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed\n I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead\n So I travel with the babble, with the chrome, with the lead\n 'Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin' through your head\n I been rich, I been poor, I saved and blown bread\n Some say I been here before because of the way I zone\n Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin' of Rome\n Reoccurring, that he thinks like that 'cause he's observing\n Won't be known until I'm gone and niggas study my bones\n Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own\n In the physical, one seems, like a lost body\n In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body\n But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me\n To the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin' me 'cause\n I got it locked like the late Bob Marley\n Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley\n Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone\n Niggas that got killed in the field and all the babies born\n Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order\n So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters\n You walk 'em through it, you know, talk 'em through it\n Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it\n Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie\n Had a shorty and a girdle comin' out of B-W-I (in school)\n I hated algebra but I loved to multiply\n And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi' before I die\n It's gonna happen whether rappin' or clappin' have it your way\n 'Cause if that's my dough you're trappin', I'm clappin' your way\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Damn it feel good to see people up on it\n Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it\n My brain is haunted, with mean dreams\n GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get richer\n Than Richie, quickly, niggas wanna hit me\n If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it\n My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat\n High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit\n In my circumference, mad bitches, with mad lucci\n Bulletproof vestes under they coochie\n Spittin' my Uzi, don't lose me, my trigger niggas represent\n Drivin' dirty in J-30's gettin' bent\n And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies\n I be smokin' trees in Belize when they find me\n While you still killin' niggas with punany, like heiny\n And Cyrus up in Cypress fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus\n While I just, slang coke, smoke pounds to choke\n Got lawyers watchin' lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it\n Them country niggas call me Frank White\n I'm squirtin' off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight\n Sunrise open my eyes no surprise\n Got my shorty flyin' in with keys taped to her thighs\n With all the utensils, who hang my China thing\n She half black half oriental eighty-six she got me rental\n The situation ain't accidental\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n What? From a, from a young G's perspective\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n\n Just some ghetto boys\n Living in these ghetto streets, these ghetto streets\n And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive\n It's just reality\n"}]