[{"id":33956230,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"DR.DRE","albumName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: DR.DRE\n  album: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":12040502,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Dr. Dre","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:03.85] (West West y'all)\n[00:04.77] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.51] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.49] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.88] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.09] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.62] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.31] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.32] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.69] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.37] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.32] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.24] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:32.85] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.20] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.72] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.15] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.61] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.05] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.43] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.28] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.62] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.14] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.23] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.14] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.34] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.59] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.21] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.38] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.19] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.44] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.70] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.44] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.32] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.49] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.75] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.33] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.12] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.74] Cock me back\n[02:00.29] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.64] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.09] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.64] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.75] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.89] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.29] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.35] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.74] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.81] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.53] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.27] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.05] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.15] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.50] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.46] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.20] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.49] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.37] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.69] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.68] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.12] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.82] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.27] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.04] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:07.97] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.61] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.26] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.18] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.57] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.03] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.75] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.60] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.48] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.14] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.09] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:50.64] In L.A\n[03:55.98] That's how we ride\n[03:58.82] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Dr. Dre\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 3850\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 3850\n  end_ms: 4770\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 4770\n  end_ms: 7510\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7510\n  end_ms: 9490\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9490\n  end_ms: 11880\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11880\n  end_ms: 14090\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14090\n  end_ms: 15620\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15620\n  end_ms: 19310\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19310\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26370\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26370\n  end_ms: 28320\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28320\n  end_ms: 31240\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31240\n  end_ms: 32850\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 32850\n  end_ms: 36200\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36200\n  end_ms: 38720\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38720\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43610\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43610\n  end_ms: 47050\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47050\n  end_ms: 49430\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49430\n  end_ms: 52280\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52280\n  end_ms: 55620\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55620\n  end_ms: 58140\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58140\n  end_ms: 60230\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60230\n  end_ms: 63140\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63140\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69340\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69340\n  end_ms: 72590\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72590\n  end_ms: 74210\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74210\n  end_ms: 77380\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77380\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 95320\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95320\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 106750\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106750\n  end_ms: 112330\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112330\n  end_ms: 115120\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115120\n  end_ms: 118740\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118740\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122640\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122640\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127640\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127640\n  end_ms: 130750\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130750\n  end_ms: 133890\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133890\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141740\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141740\n  end_ms: 144810\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144810\n  end_ms: 146530\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146530\n  end_ms: 147270\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147270\n  end_ms: 150050\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150050\n  end_ms: 153150\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153150\n  end_ms: 155500\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155500\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 161200\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161200\n  end_ms: 162490\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162490\n  end_ms: 165370\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165370\n  end_ms: 168690\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168690\n  end_ms: 171680\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171680\n  end_ms: 173120\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173120\n  end_ms: 176820\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176820\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182270\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182270\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 187970\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 187970\n  end_ms: 190610\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190610\n  end_ms: 193260\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193260\n  end_ms: 196180\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196180\n  end_ms: 198570\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198570\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204030\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204030\n  end_ms: 206750\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206750\n  end_ms: 209600\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209600\n  end_ms: 215480\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215480\n  end_ms: 218140\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218140\n  end_ms: 225090\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225090\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 235980\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 235980\n  end_ms: 238820\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 238820\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":19999329,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Dr. Dre - 2001","duration":265.276675,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Dr. Dre - 2001\n  duration_ms: 265277\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":29029620,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr Dre","albumName":"Dr Dre Collection","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr Dre\n  album: Dr Dre Collection\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":40011861,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Dr. Dre 2001 (Explicit)","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Dr. Dre 2001 (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 265232\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":14135988,"name":"17 - Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"17 - Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Dr. Dre - 2001","duration":265.279875,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:03.85] (West West y'all)\n[00:04.77] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.51] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.49] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.88] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.09] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.62] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.31] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.32] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.69] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.37] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.32] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.24] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:32.85] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.20] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.72] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.15] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.61] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.05] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.43] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.28] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.62] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.14] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.23] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.14] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.34] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.59] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.21] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.38] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.19] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.44] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.70] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.44] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.32] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.49] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.75] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.33] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.12] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.74] Cock me back\n[02:00.29] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.64] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.09] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.64] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.75] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.89] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.29] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.35] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.74] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.81] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.53] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.27] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.05] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.15] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.50] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.46] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.20] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.49] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.37] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.69] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.68] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.12] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.82] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.27] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.04] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:07.97] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.61] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.26] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.18] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.57] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.03] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.75] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.60] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.48] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.14] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.09] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:50.64] In L.A\n[03:55.98] That's how we ride\n[03:58.82] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 17 - Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Dr. Dre - 2001\n  duration_ms: 265280\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 3850\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 3850\n  end_ms: 4770\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 4770\n  end_ms: 7510\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7510\n  end_ms: 9490\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9490\n  end_ms: 11880\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11880\n  end_ms: 14090\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14090\n  end_ms: 15620\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15620\n  end_ms: 19310\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19310\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26370\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26370\n  end_ms: 28320\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28320\n  end_ms: 31240\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31240\n  end_ms: 32850\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 32850\n  end_ms: 36200\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36200\n  end_ms: 38720\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38720\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43610\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43610\n  end_ms: 47050\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47050\n  end_ms: 49430\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49430\n  end_ms: 52280\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52280\n  end_ms: 55620\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55620\n  end_ms: 58140\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58140\n  end_ms: 60230\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60230\n  end_ms: 63140\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63140\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69340\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69340\n  end_ms: 72590\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72590\n  end_ms: 74210\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74210\n  end_ms: 77380\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77380\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 95320\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95320\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 106750\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106750\n  end_ms: 112330\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112330\n  end_ms: 115120\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115120\n  end_ms: 118740\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118740\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122640\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122640\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127640\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127640\n  end_ms: 130750\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130750\n  end_ms: 133890\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133890\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141740\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141740\n  end_ms: 144810\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144810\n  end_ms: 146530\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146530\n  end_ms: 147270\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147270\n  end_ms: 150050\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150050\n  end_ms: 153150\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153150\n  end_ms: 155500\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155500\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 161200\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161200\n  end_ms: 162490\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162490\n  end_ms: 165370\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165370\n  end_ms: 168690\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168690\n  end_ms: 171680\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171680\n  end_ms: 173120\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173120\n  end_ms: 176820\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176820\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182270\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182270\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 187970\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 187970\n  end_ms: 190610\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190610\n  end_ms: 193260\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193260\n  end_ms: 196180\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196180\n  end_ms: 198570\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198570\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204030\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204030\n  end_ms: 206750\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206750\n  end_ms: 209600\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209600\n  end_ms: 215480\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215480\n  end_ms: 218140\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218140\n  end_ms: 225090\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225090\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 235980\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 235980\n  end_ms: 238820\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 238820\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":34301388,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz (feat Defari,","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz (feat Defari,","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Dr. Dre-2001","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.20] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:03.85] (West West y'all)\n[00:04.77] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.51] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.49] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.88] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.09] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.62] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.31] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.32] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.69] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.37] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.32] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.24] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:32.85] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.20] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.72] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.15] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.61] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.05] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.43] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.28] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.62] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.14] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.23] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.14] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.34] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.59] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.21] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.38] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.19] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.44] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.70] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.44] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.32] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.49] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.75] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.33] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.12] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.74] Cock me back\n[02:00.29] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.64] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.09] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.64] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.75] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.89] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.29] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.35] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.74] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.81] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.53] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.27] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.05] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.15] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.50] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.46] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.20] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.49] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.37] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.69] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.68] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.12] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.82] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.27] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.04] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:07.97] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.61] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.26] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.18] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.57] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.03] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.75] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.60] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.48] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.14] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.09] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:50.64] In L.A\n[03:55.98] That's how we ride\n[03:58.82] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz (feat Defari,\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Dr. Dre-2001\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 200\n  end_ms: 3850\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 3850\n  end_ms: 4770\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 4770\n  end_ms: 7510\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7510\n  end_ms: 9490\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9490\n  end_ms: 11880\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11880\n  end_ms: 14090\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14090\n  end_ms: 15620\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15620\n  end_ms: 19310\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19310\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26370\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26370\n  end_ms: 28320\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28320\n  end_ms: 31240\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31240\n  end_ms: 32850\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 32850\n  end_ms: 36200\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36200\n  end_ms: 38720\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38720\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 43610\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43610\n  end_ms: 47050\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47050\n  end_ms: 49430\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49430\n  end_ms: 52280\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52280\n  end_ms: 55620\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55620\n  end_ms: 58140\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58140\n  end_ms: 60230\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60230\n  end_ms: 63140\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63140\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69340\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69340\n  end_ms: 72590\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72590\n  end_ms: 74210\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74210\n  end_ms: 77380\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77380\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85440\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85440\n  end_ms: 88700\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88700\n  end_ms: 91440\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91440\n  end_ms: 95320\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95320\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 106750\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106750\n  end_ms: 112330\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112330\n  end_ms: 115120\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115120\n  end_ms: 118740\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118740\n  end_ms: 120290\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120290\n  end_ms: 122640\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122640\n  end_ms: 125090\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125090\n  end_ms: 127640\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127640\n  end_ms: 130750\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130750\n  end_ms: 133890\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133890\n  end_ms: 136290\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136290\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141740\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141740\n  end_ms: 144810\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144810\n  end_ms: 146530\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146530\n  end_ms: 147270\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147270\n  end_ms: 150050\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150050\n  end_ms: 153150\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153150\n  end_ms: 155500\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155500\n  end_ms: 158460\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158460\n  end_ms: 161200\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161200\n  end_ms: 162490\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162490\n  end_ms: 165370\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165370\n  end_ms: 168690\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168690\n  end_ms: 171680\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171680\n  end_ms: 173120\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173120\n  end_ms: 176820\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176820\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182270\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182270\n  end_ms: 185040\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185040\n  end_ms: 187970\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 187970\n  end_ms: 190610\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190610\n  end_ms: 193260\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193260\n  end_ms: 196180\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196180\n  end_ms: 198570\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198570\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204030\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204030\n  end_ms: 206750\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206750\n  end_ms: 209600\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209600\n  end_ms: 215480\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215480\n  end_ms: 218140\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218140\n  end_ms: 225090\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225090\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 235980\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 235980\n  end_ms: 238820\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 238820\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":16899602,"name":"17 - Some L.A. Niggaz - Dr. Dre","trackName":"17 - Some L.A. Niggaz - Dr. Dre","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":265.281625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:04.03] (West West y'all)\n[00:05.09] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.75] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.53] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.97] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.17] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.75] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.56] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.56] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.75] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.56] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.52] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.39] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:33.03] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.25] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.84] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.28] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.73] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.02] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.54] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.30] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.68] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.17] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.32] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.23] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.32] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.32] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.69] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.41] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.43] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.17] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.42] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.72] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.58] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.59] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.83] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.46] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.36] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.99] Cock me back\n[02:00.32] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.78] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.18] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.76] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.83] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.83] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.44] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.47] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.86] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.99] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.68] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.43] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.17] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.20] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.68] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.58] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.21] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.57] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.40] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.75] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.64] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.25] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.44] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.17] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.07] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.78] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.33] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.13] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.68] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.12] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.87] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.72] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.46] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.17] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:49.89] \n[03:52.13] In L.A\n[03:55.43] \n[03:57.46] That's how we ride\n[03:57.78] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 17 - Some L.A. Niggaz - Dr. Dre\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 265282\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 4030\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 4030\n  end_ms: 5090\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 5090\n  end_ms: 7750\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7750\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11970\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11970\n  end_ms: 14170\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14170\n  end_ms: 15750\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15750\n  end_ms: 19560\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19560\n  end_ms: 21560\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21560\n  end_ms: 24750\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24750\n  end_ms: 26560\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26560\n  end_ms: 28520\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28520\n  end_ms: 31390\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31390\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 36250\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36250\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 41280\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41280\n  end_ms: 43730\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43730\n  end_ms: 47020\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47020\n  end_ms: 49540\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49540\n  end_ms: 52300\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52300\n  end_ms: 55680\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55680\n  end_ms: 58170\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58170\n  end_ms: 60320\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60320\n  end_ms: 63230\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63230\n  end_ms: 66320\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66320\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 72690\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72690\n  end_ms: 74410\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74410\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85420\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85420\n  end_ms: 88720\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88720\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95590\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95590\n  end_ms: 100300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100300\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 112460\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112460\n  end_ms: 115360\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115360\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 120320\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120320\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127760\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127760\n  end_ms: 130830\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130830\n  end_ms: 133830\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133830\n  end_ms: 136440\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136440\n  end_ms: 139470\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139470\n  end_ms: 141860\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141860\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146680\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146680\n  end_ms: 147430\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147430\n  end_ms: 150170\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150170\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 155680\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155680\n  end_ms: 158580\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158580\n  end_ms: 161210\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161210\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165400\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165400\n  end_ms: 168750\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168750\n  end_ms: 171640\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171640\n  end_ms: 173250\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173250\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182440\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182440\n  end_ms: 185170\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185170\n  end_ms: 188070\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 188070\n  end_ms: 190780\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190780\n  end_ms: 193330\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193330\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198680\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198680\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204120\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204120\n  end_ms: 206870\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206870\n  end_ms: 209720\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209720\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218300\n  end_ms: 225170\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225170\n  end_ms: 229890\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229890\n  end_ms: 232130\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 232130\n  end_ms: 235430\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 235430\n  end_ms: 237460\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 237460\n  end_ms: 237780\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237780\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":1148425,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001 (Instrumentals Only)","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: 2001 (Instrumentals Only)\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":1479986,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"The Chronic 2001","duration":265.0,"instrumental":true,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":null,"syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: The Chronic 2001\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: true\nlines: []\n"},{"id":362239,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":32950435,"name":"Some L.A. niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. niggaz","artistName":"Dr Dre","albumName":"The Chronics 2001","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. niggaz\n  artist: Dr Dre\n  album: The Chronics 2001\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":32288425,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":276.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 276000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":19131737,"name":"SOme L.A niggaz","trackName":"SOme L.A niggaz","artistName":"Dr DRE","albumName":"2001","duration":267.702857,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: SOme L.A niggaz\n  artist: Dr DRE\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 267703\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":19180834,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":267.292875,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 267293\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":18900307,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":93.252375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 93252\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":19066025,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":269.93125,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 269931\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":19084977,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"2001","duration":270.0382169,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\nYeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\nY'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\nNiggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\nRecognize this\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\nLockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot 'em jumpin'\n\nI'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\n\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown done run up\nThe aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\nBlued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble?\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my do'\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\nAnd bruise by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day, in L.A.\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.52] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n[00:04.76] Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n[00:09.68] Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:11.95] Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n[00:14.06] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.90] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.27] Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.33] L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n[00:24.90] Recognize this\n[00:26.47] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.85] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.52] G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n[00:35.80] Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n[00:38.75] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.61] Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:44.27] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.11] But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n[00:49.66] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.38] But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.79] Got 'em jumpin'\n[00:57.27] I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.50] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.33] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.31] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.61] Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.98] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.70] Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.36] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:19.85] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.55] From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n[01:28.98] The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.32] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.52] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[01:41.33] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.38] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n[01:52.63] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.60] They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n[01:59.12] Cock me back\n[02:00.03] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.68] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.47] But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n[02:08.05] Blast you, for that set you claim\n[02:10.49] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n[02:14.13] Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.87] I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.56] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:22.25] I look humble wanna rumble?\n[02:23.83] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n[02:27.55] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.34] One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.00] Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.96] I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n[02:38.57] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.31] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:43.68] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:46.05] If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n[02:49.11] Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.93] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.61] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[03:00.49] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.69] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.29] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.02] Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n[03:10.83] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.58] Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.55] Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n[03:19.14] And bruise by the case\n[03:20.80] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.29] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:27.42] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.68] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:34.45] Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n[03:40.92] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.31] Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n[03:54.02] That's how we ride\n[04:01.29] That's how we ride\n[04:06.77] That's how we ride\n[04:12.85] That's how we ride\n[04:20.24] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: '2001'\n  duration_ms: 270038\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  start_ms: 520\n  end_ms: 4760\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 4760\n  end_ms: 9680\n- text: Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 9680\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 14060\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 15900\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15900\n  end_ms: 19270\n- text: Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19270\n  end_ms: 21330\n- text: L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21330\n  end_ms: 24900\n- text: Recognize this\n  start_ms: 24900\n  end_ms: 26470\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26470\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 31520\n- text: G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 31520\n  end_ms: 35800\n- text: Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  start_ms: 35800\n  end_ms: 38750\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38750\n  end_ms: 41610\n- text: Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41610\n  end_ms: 44270\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 44270\n  end_ms: 47110\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47110\n  end_ms: 49660\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49660\n  end_ms: 52380\n- text: But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52380\n  end_ms: 55790\n- text: Got 'em jumpin'\n  start_ms: 55790\n  end_ms: 57270\n- text: I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 57270\n  end_ms: 60500\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60500\n  end_ms: 63330\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63330\n  end_ms: 66310\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66310\n  end_ms: 69610\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69610\n  end_ms: 72980\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72980\n  end_ms: 74700\n- text: Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74700\n  end_ms: 77360\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77360\n  end_ms: 79850\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 79850\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85550\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  start_ms: 85550\n  end_ms: 88980\n- text: The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88980\n  end_ms: 91320\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91320\n  end_ms: 95520\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 95520\n  end_ms: 101330\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 101330\n  end_ms: 106380\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 106380\n  end_ms: 112630\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112630\n  end_ms: 115600\n- text: They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115600\n  end_ms: 119120\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 119120\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 122680\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122680\n  end_ms: 125470\n- text: But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125470\n  end_ms: 128050\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim\n  start_ms: 128050\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136870\n- text: I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136870\n  end_ms: 139560\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139560\n  end_ms: 142250\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble?\n  start_ms: 142250\n  end_ms: 143830\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 143830\n  end_ms: 147550\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147550\n  end_ms: 150340\n- text: One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150340\n  end_ms: 153000\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153000\n  end_ms: 155960\n- text: I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  start_ms: 155960\n  end_ms: 158570\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158570\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 163680\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 163680\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169110\n- text: Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 169110\n  end_ms: 171930\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171930\n  end_ms: 173610\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173610\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 180490\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 180490\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 185290\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185290\n  end_ms: 188020\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  start_ms: 188020\n  end_ms: 190830\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190830\n  end_ms: 193580\n- text: Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193580\n  end_ms: 196550\n- text: Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196550\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: And bruise by the case\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 204290\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204290\n  end_ms: 207420\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 207420\n  end_ms: 209680\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209680\n  end_ms: 214450\n- text: Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  start_ms: 214450\n  end_ms: 220920\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 220920\n  end_ms: 225310\n- text: Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n  start_ms: 225310\n  end_ms: 234020\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 234020\n  end_ms: 241290\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 241290\n  end_ms: 246770\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 246770\n  end_ms: 252850\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 252850\n  end_ms: 260240\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 260240\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker, West West y'all\n  Yeah, L.A. niggaz, L.A. niggaz rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggaz gotta recognize, yaknahmsayin'?\n  Niggaz don't wanna peep game, yaknahmsayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  Yaknahmsayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggaz, connected all over the motherfuckin' world, nigga\n  Recognize this\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd from the feet up, blued up from the sewer's how I grew up\n  Lockin' smokin' and drinkin 'til we threw up\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditchin my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggaz quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But Time Bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got 'em jumpin'\n\n  I'm comin' \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twistin' wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a Time Bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown done run up\n  The aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A.\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt, 'cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggaz jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K.\n\n  Blued up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggaz get jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble?\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline, don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sunshines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-by, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called What-The-Dif'\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touchin' mine you catch a flatline, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, drivin' away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my do'\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in, blaow, he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggaz, who by fifths by the fo'\n  And bruise by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day, in L.A.\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way, in L.A., in L.A.\n\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":17543469,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Instrumentals Only 2001","duration":265.333333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:04.03] (West West y'all)\n[00:05.09] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.75] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.53] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.97] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.17] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.75] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.56] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.56] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.75] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.56] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.52] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.39] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:33.03] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.25] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.84] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.28] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.73] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.02] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.54] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.30] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.68] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.17] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.32] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.23] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.32] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.32] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.69] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.41] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.43] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.17] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.42] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.72] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.58] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.59] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.83] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.46] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.36] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.99] Cock me back\n[02:00.32] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.78] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.18] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.76] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.83] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.83] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.44] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.47] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.86] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.99] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.68] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.43] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.17] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.20] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.68] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.58] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.21] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.57] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.40] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.75] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.64] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.25] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.44] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.17] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.07] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.78] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.33] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.13] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.68] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.12] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.87] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.72] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.46] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.17] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:49.89] \n[03:52.13] In L.A\n[03:55.43] \n[03:57.46] That's how we ride\n[03:57.78] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Instrumentals Only 2001\n  duration_ms: 265333\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 4030\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 4030\n  end_ms: 5090\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 5090\n  end_ms: 7750\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7750\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11970\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11970\n  end_ms: 14170\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14170\n  end_ms: 15750\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15750\n  end_ms: 19560\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19560\n  end_ms: 21560\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21560\n  end_ms: 24750\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24750\n  end_ms: 26560\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26560\n  end_ms: 28520\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28520\n  end_ms: 31390\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31390\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 36250\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36250\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 41280\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41280\n  end_ms: 43730\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43730\n  end_ms: 47020\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47020\n  end_ms: 49540\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49540\n  end_ms: 52300\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52300\n  end_ms: 55680\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55680\n  end_ms: 58170\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58170\n  end_ms: 60320\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60320\n  end_ms: 63230\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63230\n  end_ms: 66320\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66320\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 72690\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72690\n  end_ms: 74410\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74410\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85420\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85420\n  end_ms: 88720\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88720\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95590\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95590\n  end_ms: 100300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100300\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 112460\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112460\n  end_ms: 115360\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115360\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 120320\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120320\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127760\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127760\n  end_ms: 130830\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130830\n  end_ms: 133830\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133830\n  end_ms: 136440\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136440\n  end_ms: 139470\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139470\n  end_ms: 141860\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141860\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146680\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146680\n  end_ms: 147430\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147430\n  end_ms: 150170\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150170\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 155680\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155680\n  end_ms: 158580\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158580\n  end_ms: 161210\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161210\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165400\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165400\n  end_ms: 168750\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168750\n  end_ms: 171640\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171640\n  end_ms: 173250\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173250\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182440\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182440\n  end_ms: 185170\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185170\n  end_ms: 188070\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 188070\n  end_ms: 190780\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190780\n  end_ms: 193330\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193330\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198680\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198680\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204120\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204120\n  end_ms: 206870\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206870\n  end_ms: 209720\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209720\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218300\n  end_ms: 225170\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225170\n  end_ms: 229890\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229890\n  end_ms: 232130\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 232130\n  end_ms: 235430\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 235430\n  end_ms: 237460\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 237460\n  end_ms: 237780\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237780\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"},{"id":18444624,"name":"Some L.A. Niggaz","trackName":"Some L.A. Niggaz","artistName":"Dr. Dre","albumName":"Chronic","duration":265.221224,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n(West West y'all)\nYeah, L.A. niggas\nL.A. niggas rule the world nigga\nY'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\nNiggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\nBut this shit come all the way back around here\nMy nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\nYou know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\nL.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\nRecognize this, peep game\n\nNow in my younger days I used to sport a rag\nBackpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\nG'd up from the feet up\nBlue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\nLoc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\nAt Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\nDitching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\nYou don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\nBut don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\nNow there's another motherfucker with no future\nBut time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\nGot em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\nI'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\nSmoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\nWatch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\nFrom way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\nPicture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\nAnd Hittman bought a fix\nDon't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\nHere it tick tick tick tick\nWait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\nWeed and cocaine sold separate, check it\nFrom sundown to sunup, clown and run up\nThe Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nGimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\nThey call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\nCock me back\nBust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\nWho used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\nBut I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\nBlast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\nMash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\nBlue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\nI helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\nMy pants hang below my waistline\nI look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\nI bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\nDon't waste my time\nFuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\nOne-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\nHawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\nI was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\nWhere the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\nSlugs for the fuck of it\nAnybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\nIf I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\nBetter than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\nIt's AvireX-to-the-Z\nFuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\nCassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\nMultiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\nWhat, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\nLike puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\nFive in the mornin', burglars at my door\nGlock forty-five in my dresser drawer\nLet 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\nRoll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\nAnd brew's by the case\nSlap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\nLikwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\nHaters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\nWe roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\nRequirements for survival each day in L.A\nIt don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\nAnalyze why we act this way in L.A\n\nIn L.A\nThat's how we ride","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.38] Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n[00:04.03] (West West y'all)\n[00:05.09] Yeah, L.A. niggas\n[00:07.75] L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n[00:09.53] Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:11.97] Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n[00:14.17] But this shit come all the way back around here\n[00:15.75] My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n[00:19.56] You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n[00:21.56] L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n[00:24.75] Recognize this, peep game\n[00:26.56] Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n[00:28.52] Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n[00:31.39] G'd up from the feet up\n[00:33.03] Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n[00:36.25] Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n[00:38.84] At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n[00:41.28] Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n[00:43.73] You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n[00:47.02] But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n[00:49.54] Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n[00:52.30] But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n[00:55.68] Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n[00:58.17] I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n[01:00.32] Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n[01:03.23] Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n[01:06.32] From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n[01:09.32] Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n[01:12.69] And Hittman bought a fix\n[01:14.41] Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n[01:17.43] Here it tick tick tick tick\n[01:20.17] Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n[01:22.75] Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n[01:25.42] From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n[01:28.72] The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n[01:31.58] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[01:35.59] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[01:40.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[01:46.83] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[01:52.46] Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n[01:55.36] They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n[01:58.99] Cock me back\n[02:00.32] Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n[02:02.78] Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n[02:05.18] But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n[02:07.76] Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n[02:10.83] Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n[02:13.83] Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n[02:16.44] I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n[02:19.47] My pants hang below my waistline\n[02:21.86] I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n[02:24.99] I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n[02:26.68] Don't waste my time\n[02:27.43] Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n[02:30.17] One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n[02:33.20] Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n[02:35.68] I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n[02:38.58] Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n[02:41.21] Slugs for the fuck of it\n[02:42.57] Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n[02:45.40] If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n[02:48.75] Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n[02:51.64] It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n[02:53.25] Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n[02:56.87] Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n[02:59.87] Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n[03:02.44] What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n[03:05.17] Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n[03:08.07] Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n[03:10.78] Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n[03:13.33] Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n[03:16.13] Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n[03:18.68] And brew's by the case\n[03:21.16] Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n[03:24.12] Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n[03:26.87] Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n[03:29.72] We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n[03:35.46] Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n[03:38.30] It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n[03:45.17] Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n[03:49.89] \n[03:52.13] In L.A\n[03:55.43] \n[03:57.46] That's how we ride\n[03:57.78] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Some L.A. Niggaz\n  artist: Dr. Dre\n  album: Chronic\n  duration_ms: 265221\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 380\n  end_ms: 4030\n- text: (West West y'all)\n  start_ms: 4030\n  end_ms: 5090\n- text: Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  start_ms: 5090\n  end_ms: 7750\n- text: L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  start_ms: 7750\n  end_ms: 9530\n- text: Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 9530\n  end_ms: 11970\n- text: Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  start_ms: 11970\n  end_ms: 14170\n- text: But this shit come all the way back around here\n  start_ms: 14170\n  end_ms: 15750\n- text: My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  start_ms: 15750\n  end_ms: 19560\n- text: You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  start_ms: 19560\n  end_ms: 21560\n- text: L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  start_ms: 21560\n  end_ms: 24750\n- text: Recognize this, peep game\n  start_ms: 24750\n  end_ms: 26560\n- text: Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  start_ms: 26560\n  end_ms: 28520\n- text: Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  start_ms: 28520\n  end_ms: 31390\n- text: G'd up from the feet up\n  start_ms: 31390\n  end_ms: 33030\n- text: Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  start_ms: 33030\n  end_ms: 36250\n- text: Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  start_ms: 36250\n  end_ms: 38840\n- text: At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  start_ms: 38840\n  end_ms: 41280\n- text: Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  start_ms: 41280\n  end_ms: 43730\n- text: You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  start_ms: 43730\n  end_ms: 47020\n- text: But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  start_ms: 47020\n  end_ms: 49540\n- text: Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  start_ms: 49540\n  end_ms: 52300\n- text: But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  start_ms: 52300\n  end_ms: 55680\n- text: Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n  start_ms: 55680\n  end_ms: 58170\n- text: I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  start_ms: 58170\n  end_ms: 60320\n- text: Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  start_ms: 60320\n  end_ms: 63230\n- text: Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  start_ms: 63230\n  end_ms: 66320\n- text: From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  start_ms: 66320\n  end_ms: 69320\n- text: Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  start_ms: 69320\n  end_ms: 72690\n- text: And Hittman bought a fix\n  start_ms: 72690\n  end_ms: 74410\n- text: Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  start_ms: 74410\n  end_ms: 77430\n- text: Here it tick tick tick tick\n  start_ms: 77430\n  end_ms: 80170\n- text: Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  start_ms: 80170\n  end_ms: 82750\n- text: Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  start_ms: 82750\n  end_ms: 85420\n- text: From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  start_ms: 85420\n  end_ms: 88720\n- text: The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n  start_ms: 88720\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95590\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 95590\n  end_ms: 100300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 100300\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 112460\n- text: Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  start_ms: 112460\n  end_ms: 115360\n- text: They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  start_ms: 115360\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Cock me back\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 120320\n- text: Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  start_ms: 120320\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 125180\n- text: But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  start_ms: 125180\n  end_ms: 127760\n- text: Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  start_ms: 127760\n  end_ms: 130830\n- text: Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  start_ms: 130830\n  end_ms: 133830\n- text: Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  start_ms: 133830\n  end_ms: 136440\n- text: I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  start_ms: 136440\n  end_ms: 139470\n- text: My pants hang below my waistline\n  start_ms: 139470\n  end_ms: 141860\n- text: I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  start_ms: 141860\n  end_ms: 144990\n- text: I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  start_ms: 144990\n  end_ms: 146680\n- text: Don't waste my time\n  start_ms: 146680\n  end_ms: 147430\n- text: Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  start_ms: 147430\n  end_ms: 150170\n- text: One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  start_ms: 150170\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 155680\n- text: I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  start_ms: 155680\n  end_ms: 158580\n- text: Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  start_ms: 158580\n  end_ms: 161210\n- text: Slugs for the fuck of it\n  start_ms: 161210\n  end_ms: 162570\n- text: Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  start_ms: 162570\n  end_ms: 165400\n- text: If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  start_ms: 165400\n  end_ms: 168750\n- text: Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  start_ms: 168750\n  end_ms: 171640\n- text: It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  start_ms: 171640\n  end_ms: 173250\n- text: Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  start_ms: 173250\n  end_ms: 176870\n- text: Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  start_ms: 176870\n  end_ms: 179870\n- text: Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  start_ms: 179870\n  end_ms: 182440\n- text: What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  start_ms: 182440\n  end_ms: 185170\n- text: Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n  start_ms: 185170\n  end_ms: 188070\n- text: Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  start_ms: 188070\n  end_ms: 190780\n- text: Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  start_ms: 190780\n  end_ms: 193330\n- text: Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  start_ms: 193330\n  end_ms: 196130\n- text: Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  start_ms: 196130\n  end_ms: 198680\n- text: And brew's by the case\n  start_ms: 198680\n  end_ms: 201160\n- text: Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  start_ms: 201160\n  end_ms: 204120\n- text: Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  start_ms: 204120\n  end_ms: 206870\n- text: Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n  start_ms: 206870\n  end_ms: 209720\n- text: We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  start_ms: 209720\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218300\n- text: It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  start_ms: 218300\n  end_ms: 225170\n- text: Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n  start_ms: 225170\n  end_ms: 229890\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 229890\n  end_ms: 232130\n- text: In L.A\n  start_ms: 232130\n  end_ms: 235430\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 235430\n  end_ms: 237460\n- text: That's how we ride\n  start_ms: 237460\n  end_ms: 237780\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237780\nplain: |-\n  Yeah nigga, MC Ren up in this motherfucker\n  (West West y'all)\n  Yeah, L.A. niggas\n  L.A. niggas rule the world nigga\n  Y'all niggas gotta recognize, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  Niggas don't wanna peep game, you know what i'm sayin'?\n  But this shit come all the way back around here\n  My nigga Dre, droppin' heat box on y'all bitch-ass\n  You know what i'm sayin'? You gotta recognize\n  L.A. niggas, connected all over the motherfucking world, nigga\n  Recognize this, peep game\n\n  Now in my younger days I used to sport a rag\n  Backpack full of cans plus a four-four mag\n  G'd up from the feet up\n  Blue'd up from the shoe up's how I grew up\n  Loc'n, smokin' and drinkin' 'till we threw up ('till we threw up)\n  At Leimert Park, taggin', hittin' fools up\n  Ditching my class, just to fuck yo' school up\n  You don't wanna blast, nigga tuck yo' tool up\n  But don't sleep, y'all niggas quick to shoot you\n  Now there's another motherfucker with no future\n  But time bomb much smoother when I maneuver, dope like Cuba\n  Got em jumpin Disciples to the Hoover\n\n  I'm coming \"Straight Outta Compton\" with a loose cannon\n  Smoke big green, call it Bruce Banner\n  Watch your manners, at last another blast from the top notch\n  From way back with the pop rocks, I pop lock witcha\n  Picture this, Dr. Dre twisting wit Tha Liks\n  And Hittman bought a fix\n  Don't trip, it's a time bomb in this bitch\n  Here it tick tick tick tick\n  Wait a minute it's on, I tell it like a true mackadelic\n  Weed and cocaine sold separate, check it\n  From sundown to sunup, clown and run up\n  The Aftermath'll be two in your gut, nigga what?\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  Gimme that mic fool, it's a West coast jack move\n  They call me Hitt cause I spit like gats do\n  Cock me back\n  Bust caps for my max crew, at Fairfax\n  Who used to wear Air Max shoes, that's true\n  But I grew up where niggas jack you, harass you\n  Blast you, for that set you claim (where you from?)\n  Mash on you for your Turkish chain, C.K. B.K\n  Blue'd up or flame, I ran wit a gang\n  I helped niggas get, jacked for they Dana Dane's\n  My pants hang below my waistline\n  I look humble wanna rumble? (yeah, yeah)\n  I bang though, like Vince Carter from the baseline\n  Don't waste my time\n  Fuck a scrap in killa Cali, AK's and 9's\n  One-time's, sun-shines, and fine-ass bitches\n  Hawaiian Thai, drive-bys, six-fo's on switches\n\n  I was raised in the hood called \"WHAT-THE-DIF\"\n  Where the brothers in the hood, refused to go Hollywood\n  Slugs for the fuck of it\n  Anybody hatin' on us can suck a dick\n  If I catch you touching mine you catch a flat-line, dead on the floor\n  Better than yours, driving away gettin' head from a whore\n  It's AvireX-to-the-Z\n  Fuckin' with me might get you banned from TV\n  Cassette and CD it's all mine the whole nine the right time\n  Multiply, we don't die, the streets don't lie\n  What, so neither do I, I'm bad for your health\n  Like puttin' a pistol up to your face and blastin' yourself\n\n  Five in the mornin', burglars at my door\n  Glock forty-five in my dresser drawer\n  Let 'em come in BLAOW he see the thunder roll\n  Roll with niggas, who buy fifths by the fo'\n  And brew's by the case\n  Slap you in the face with the bass, Dr. Dre laced\n  Likwit Kings wit Sedans and gold rings\n  Haters fold the style, but can't find no openings\n\n  We roll deep, smoke on weed drink and pack heat\n  Requirements for survival each day in L.A\n  It don't stop, we still mash in hot pursuit from the cops\n  Analyze why we act this way in L.A\n\n  In L.A\n  That's how we ride\n"}]