[{"id":2617056,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":6831028,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P","albumName":"Cancer For Cure","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P\n  album: Cancer For Cure\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":20757305,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El‐P","albumName":"Cancer4Cure","duration":221.178776,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El‐P\n  album: Cancer4Cure\n  duration_ms: 221179\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":10629353,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El‐P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El‐P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":12990481,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals","duration":222.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals\n  duration_ms: 222000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":11347426,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"EL-P","albumName":"C4Cstrumentals","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: EL-P\n  album: C4Cstrumentals\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":9704472,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El‐P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El‐P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":26901302,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"EL-P","albumName":"Cancer4Cure","duration":221.146667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: EL-P\n  album: Cancer4Cure\n  duration_ms: 221147\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":2617055,"name":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","trackName":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","artistName":"El-P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No (instrumental)\n  artist: El-P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":17278447,"name":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","trackName":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","artistName":"El‐P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No (instrumental)\n  artist: El‐P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":21913176,"name":"Oh Hail No [Explicit]","trackName":"Oh Hail No [Explicit]","artistName":"El-P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure [Explicit]","duration":221.178776,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No [Explicit]\n  artist: El-P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure [Explicit]\n  duration_ms: 221179\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":9676389,"name":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","trackName":"Oh Hail No (instrumental)","artistName":"El‐P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No (instrumental)\n  artist: El‐P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure - Instrumentals\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":29154171,"name":"Oh Hail No (Instrumental)","trackName":"Oh Hail No (Instrumental)","artistName":"EL-P","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure (Instrumentals) (Instrumental)","duration":223.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nBeat Switch\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No (Instrumental)\n  artist: EL-P\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure (Instrumentals) (Instrumental)\n  duration_ms: 223000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'mma grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Beat Switch\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":5451572,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"EL-P, Danny Brown & Mr. Motherfucking Exquire","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":"[00:45.28] Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n[00:47.07] On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n[00:49.79] Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n[00:52.41] I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n[00:55.10] Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n[00:57.82] Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n[00:59.69] Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n[01:02.46] That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n[01:04.22] Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n[01:08.73] Hollow man bop, gliding\n[01:10.55] Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n[01:12.30] Could be the high or just mind control dying\n[01:15.41] Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n[01:17.24] I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n[01:19.90] Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n[01:22.64] Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n[01:24.42] Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n[01:27.17] I've been told I was put here to fail\n[01:28.91] But never ask me to hail\n[01:31.63] Never ask me to hail\n[01:34.42] I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n[01:36.23] With a grin going out with a flair\n[01:38.91] But never ask me to hail\n[01:40.74] Never ask me to hail\n[01:44.38] Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n[01:46.20] Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n[01:48.98] Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n[01:51.68] Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n[01:54.35] Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n[01:56.14] Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n[01:58.89] Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n[02:01.54] No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n[02:04.21] Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n[02:06.09] Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n[02:08.75] Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n[02:11.42] (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n[02:42.92] Check!\n[02:43.84] The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n[02:46.58] I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n[02:49.24] My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n[02:51.98] My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n[02:55.54] With techniques I tech up your sector\n[02:58.24] Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n[03:00.09] Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n[03:02.79] But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n[03:06.35] Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n[03:09.04] So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n[03:12.71] Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n[03:15.43] Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n[03:19.06] Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n[03:22.65] Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n[03:25.75] Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n[03:30.20] I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n[03:33.06] Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n[03:36.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: EL-P, Danny Brown & Mr. Motherfucking Exquire\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 47070\n- text: On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  start_ms: 47070\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52410\n- text: I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  start_ms: 52410\n  end_ms: 55100\n- text: Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  start_ms: 55100\n  end_ms: 57820\n- text: Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  start_ms: 57820\n  end_ms: 59690\n- text: Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  start_ms: 59690\n  end_ms: 62460\n- text: That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  start_ms: 62460\n  end_ms: 64220\n- text: Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  start_ms: 64220\n  end_ms: 68730\n- text: Hollow man bop, gliding\n  start_ms: 68730\n  end_ms: 70550\n- text: Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  start_ms: 70550\n  end_ms: 72300\n- text: Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  start_ms: 72300\n  end_ms: 75410\n- text: Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  start_ms: 75410\n  end_ms: 77240\n- text: I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  start_ms: 77240\n  end_ms: 79900\n- text: Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  start_ms: 79900\n  end_ms: 82640\n- text: Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n  start_ms: 82640\n  end_ms: 84420\n- text: Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  start_ms: 84420\n  end_ms: 87170\n- text: I've been told I was put here to fail\n  start_ms: 87170\n  end_ms: 88910\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 88910\n  end_ms: 91630\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 91630\n  end_ms: 94420\n- text: I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  start_ms: 94420\n  end_ms: 96230\n- text: With a grin going out with a flair\n  start_ms: 96230\n  end_ms: 98910\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 98910\n  end_ms: 100740\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 100740\n  end_ms: 104380\n- text: Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  start_ms: 104380\n  end_ms: 106200\n- text: Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  start_ms: 106200\n  end_ms: 108980\n- text: Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  start_ms: 108980\n  end_ms: 111680\n- text: Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  start_ms: 111680\n  end_ms: 114350\n- text: Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  start_ms: 114350\n  end_ms: 116140\n- text: Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  start_ms: 116140\n  end_ms: 118890\n- text: Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  start_ms: 118890\n  end_ms: 121540\n- text: No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  start_ms: 121540\n  end_ms: 124210\n- text: Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  start_ms: 124210\n  end_ms: 126090\n- text: Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  start_ms: 126090\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 131420\n- text: (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n  start_ms: 131420\n  end_ms: 162920\n- text: Check!\n  start_ms: 162920\n  end_ms: 163840\n- text: The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  start_ms: 163840\n  end_ms: 166580\n- text: I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  start_ms: 166580\n  end_ms: 169240\n- text: My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  start_ms: 169240\n  end_ms: 171980\n- text: My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  start_ms: 171980\n  end_ms: 175540\n- text: With techniques I tech up your sector\n  start_ms: 175540\n  end_ms: 178240\n- text: Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  start_ms: 178240\n  end_ms: 180090\n- text: Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  start_ms: 180090\n  end_ms: 182790\n- text: But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  start_ms: 182790\n  end_ms: 186350\n- text: Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  start_ms: 186350\n  end_ms: 189040\n- text: So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  start_ms: 189040\n  end_ms: 192710\n- text: Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  start_ms: 192710\n  end_ms: 195430\n- text: Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  start_ms: 195430\n  end_ms: 199060\n- text: Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  start_ms: 199060\n  end_ms: 202650\n- text: Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  start_ms: 202650\n  end_ms: 205750\n- text: Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  start_ms: 205750\n  end_ms: 210200\n- text: I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  start_ms: 210200\n  end_ms: 213060\n- text: Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n  start_ms: 213060\n  end_ms: 216600\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 216600\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":2510180,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"Mr. Motherfucking Exquire, El-P & Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n*Beat Switch*\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: Mr. Motherfucking Exquire, El-P & Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  *Beat Switch*\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":2510181,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P / Mr. Motherfucking Exquire / Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n*Beat Switch*\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P / Mr. Motherfucking Exquire / Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  *Beat Switch*\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":36333365,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El‐P Mr Motherfucking Exquire Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n*Beat Switch*\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El‐P Mr Motherfucking Exquire Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  *Beat Switch*\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":7534526,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El‐P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire & Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer for Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe I'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where?\nIt's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El‐P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire & Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer for Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe I'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where?\n  It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":8121055,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire & Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer 4 Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe I'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where?\nIt's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":"[00:45.28] Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n[00:47.07] On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n[00:49.79] Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n[00:52.41] I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n[00:55.10] Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n[00:57.82] Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n[00:59.69] Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n[01:02.46] That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n[01:04.22] Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n[01:08.73] Hollow man bop, gliding\n[01:10.55] Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n[01:12.30] Could be the high or just mind control dying\n[01:15.41] Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n[01:17.24] I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n[01:19.90] Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n[01:22.64] Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n[01:24.42] Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n[01:27.17] I've been told I was put here to fail\n[01:28.91] But never ask me to hail\n[01:31.63] Never ask me to hail\n[01:34.42] I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n[01:36.23] With a grin going out with a flair\n[01:38.91] But never ask me to hail\n[01:40.74] Never ask me to hail\n[01:44.38] Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n[01:46.20] Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n[01:48.98] Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n[01:51.68] Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n[01:54.35] Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n[01:56.14] Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n[01:58.89] Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n[02:01.54] No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n[02:04.21] Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n[02:06.09] Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n[02:08.75] Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n[02:11.42] (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n[02:42.92] Check!\n[02:43.84] The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n[02:46.58] I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n[02:49.24] My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n[02:51.98] My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n[02:55.54] With techniques I tech up your sector\n[02:58.24] Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n[03:00.09] Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n[03:02.79] But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n[03:06.35] Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n[03:09.04] So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n[03:12.71] Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n[03:15.43] Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n[03:19.06] Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n[03:22.65] Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n[03:25.75] Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n[03:30.20] I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n[03:33.06] Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n[03:36.60] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire & Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer 4 Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  start_ms: 45280\n  end_ms: 47070\n- text: On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  start_ms: 47070\n  end_ms: 49790\n- text: Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  start_ms: 49790\n  end_ms: 52410\n- text: I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  start_ms: 52410\n  end_ms: 55100\n- text: Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  start_ms: 55100\n  end_ms: 57820\n- text: Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  start_ms: 57820\n  end_ms: 59690\n- text: Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  start_ms: 59690\n  end_ms: 62460\n- text: That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  start_ms: 62460\n  end_ms: 64220\n- text: Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  start_ms: 64220\n  end_ms: 68730\n- text: Hollow man bop, gliding\n  start_ms: 68730\n  end_ms: 70550\n- text: Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  start_ms: 70550\n  end_ms: 72300\n- text: Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  start_ms: 72300\n  end_ms: 75410\n- text: Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  start_ms: 75410\n  end_ms: 77240\n- text: I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  start_ms: 77240\n  end_ms: 79900\n- text: Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  start_ms: 79900\n  end_ms: 82640\n- text: Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n  start_ms: 82640\n  end_ms: 84420\n- text: Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  start_ms: 84420\n  end_ms: 87170\n- text: I've been told I was put here to fail\n  start_ms: 87170\n  end_ms: 88910\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 88910\n  end_ms: 91630\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 91630\n  end_ms: 94420\n- text: I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  start_ms: 94420\n  end_ms: 96230\n- text: With a grin going out with a flair\n  start_ms: 96230\n  end_ms: 98910\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 98910\n  end_ms: 100740\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 100740\n  end_ms: 104380\n- text: Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  start_ms: 104380\n  end_ms: 106200\n- text: Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  start_ms: 106200\n  end_ms: 108980\n- text: Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  start_ms: 108980\n  end_ms: 111680\n- text: Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  start_ms: 111680\n  end_ms: 114350\n- text: Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  start_ms: 114350\n  end_ms: 116140\n- text: Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  start_ms: 116140\n  end_ms: 118890\n- text: Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  start_ms: 118890\n  end_ms: 121540\n- text: No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  start_ms: 121540\n  end_ms: 124210\n- text: Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  start_ms: 124210\n  end_ms: 126090\n- text: Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  start_ms: 126090\n  end_ms: 128750\n- text: Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  start_ms: 128750\n  end_ms: 131420\n- text: (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n  start_ms: 131420\n  end_ms: 162920\n- text: Check!\n  start_ms: 162920\n  end_ms: 163840\n- text: The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  start_ms: 163840\n  end_ms: 166580\n- text: I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  start_ms: 166580\n  end_ms: 169240\n- text: My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  start_ms: 169240\n  end_ms: 171980\n- text: My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  start_ms: 171980\n  end_ms: 175540\n- text: With techniques I tech up your sector\n  start_ms: 175540\n  end_ms: 178240\n- text: Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  start_ms: 178240\n  end_ms: 180090\n- text: Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  start_ms: 180090\n  end_ms: 182790\n- text: But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  start_ms: 182790\n  end_ms: 186350\n- text: Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  start_ms: 186350\n  end_ms: 189040\n- text: So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  start_ms: 189040\n  end_ms: 192710\n- text: Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  start_ms: 192710\n  end_ms: 195430\n- text: Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  start_ms: 195430\n  end_ms: 199060\n- text: Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  start_ms: 199060\n  end_ms: 202650\n- text: Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  start_ms: 202650\n  end_ms: 205750\n- text: Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  start_ms: 205750\n  end_ms: 210200\n- text: I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  start_ms: 210200\n  end_ms: 213060\n- text: Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n  start_ms: 213060\n  end_ms: 216600\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe I'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where?\n  It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"},{"id":2194453,"name":"Oh Hail No","trackName":"Oh Hail No","artistName":"El-P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire & Danny Brown","albumName":"Cancer for Cure","duration":221.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\nOn some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\nLike that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\nI loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\nWho me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\nBloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\nMake you spin like you sniffing that god particle\nThat purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\nOriginator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\nHollow man bop, gliding\nShuffle through the tides of slime smiling\nCould be the high or just mind control dying\nFuck it throw me on the problem pile\nI'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\nPeeking out of my blinds in the apartment\nWaiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\nPocket full of air plus nothing to wear\nI've been told I was put here to fail\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\nI'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\nWith a grin going out with a flair\nBut never ask me to hail\nNever ask me to hail\n\nJesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\nSex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\nMaybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\nForcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\nCross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\nMeant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\nShyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\nNo I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\nVisceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\nVicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\nEndless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n(Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\nCheck!\nThe natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\nI'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\nMy patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\nMy lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\nWith techniques I tech up your sector\nInspector Gadget with the ratchet\nBitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\nBut not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\nAh! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\nSo I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\nGranny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\nOff that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\nDone. This nigga here is not a dummy\nLook at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\nGummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\nI'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\nYelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair","syncedLyrics":"[00:45.75] Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n[00:47.44] On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n[00:50.10] Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n[00:52.76] I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n[00:54.41] Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n[00:57.07] Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n[00:59.63] Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n[01:02.28] That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n[01:04.91] Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n[01:07.54] Hollow man bop, gliding\n[01:10.12] Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n[01:11.81] Could be the high or just mind control dying\n[01:14.46] Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n[01:17.06] I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n[01:19.65] Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n[01:21.41] Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n[01:24.07] Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n[01:26.62] I've been told I was put here to fail\n[01:28.49] But never ask me to hail\n[01:29.33] Never ask me to hail\n[01:33.72] I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n[01:36.37] With a grin going out with a flair\n[01:38.09] But never ask me to hail\n[01:39.80] Never ask me to hail\n[01:43.31] Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n[01:45.92] Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n[01:48.52] Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n[01:51.10] Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n[01:53.89] Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n[01:56.46] Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n[01:59.06] Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n[02:01.64] No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n[02:04.21] Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n[02:05.97] Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n[02:08.61] Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n[02:11.23] (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n[02:15.54] Check!\n[02:43.45] The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n[02:46.11] I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n[02:49.65] My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n[02:52.28] My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n[02:55.73] With techniques I tech up your sector\n[02:58.36] Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n[03:00.05] Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n[03:02.69] But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n[03:06.12] Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n[03:09.66] So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n[03:12.27] Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n[03:15.75] Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n[03:18.36] Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n[03:21.00] Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n[03:23.67] Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n[03:29.73] I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n[03:33.20] Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n[03:35.87] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Oh Hail No\n  artist: El-P feat. Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire & Danny Brown\n  album: Cancer for Cure\n  duration_ms: 221000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  start_ms: 45750\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50100\n- text: Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  start_ms: 50100\n  end_ms: 52760\n- text: I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  start_ms: 52760\n  end_ms: 54410\n- text: Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  start_ms: 54410\n  end_ms: 57070\n- text: Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  start_ms: 57070\n  end_ms: 59630\n- text: Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  start_ms: 59630\n  end_ms: 62280\n- text: That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  start_ms: 62280\n  end_ms: 64910\n- text: Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  start_ms: 64910\n  end_ms: 67540\n- text: Hollow man bop, gliding\n  start_ms: 67540\n  end_ms: 70120\n- text: Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  start_ms: 70120\n  end_ms: 71810\n- text: Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  start_ms: 71810\n  end_ms: 74460\n- text: Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  start_ms: 74460\n  end_ms: 77060\n- text: I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  start_ms: 77060\n  end_ms: 79650\n- text: Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  start_ms: 79650\n  end_ms: 81410\n- text: Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n  start_ms: 81410\n  end_ms: 84070\n- text: Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  start_ms: 84070\n  end_ms: 86620\n- text: I've been told I was put here to fail\n  start_ms: 86620\n  end_ms: 88490\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 88490\n  end_ms: 89330\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 89330\n  end_ms: 93720\n- text: I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  start_ms: 93720\n  end_ms: 96370\n- text: With a grin going out with a flair\n  start_ms: 96370\n  end_ms: 98090\n- text: But never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 98090\n  end_ms: 99800\n- text: Never ask me to hail\n  start_ms: 99800\n  end_ms: 103310\n- text: Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  start_ms: 103310\n  end_ms: 105920\n- text: Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  start_ms: 105920\n  end_ms: 108520\n- text: Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  start_ms: 108520\n  end_ms: 111100\n- text: Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  start_ms: 111100\n  end_ms: 113890\n- text: Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  start_ms: 113890\n  end_ms: 116460\n- text: Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  start_ms: 116460\n  end_ms: 119060\n- text: Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  start_ms: 119060\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124210\n- text: Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  start_ms: 124210\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 128610\n- text: Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  start_ms: 128610\n  end_ms: 131230\n- text: (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n  start_ms: 131230\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Check!\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 163450\n- text: The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  start_ms: 163450\n  end_ms: 166110\n- text: I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  start_ms: 166110\n  end_ms: 169650\n- text: My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  start_ms: 169650\n  end_ms: 172280\n- text: My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  start_ms: 172280\n  end_ms: 175730\n- text: With techniques I tech up your sector\n  start_ms: 175730\n  end_ms: 178360\n- text: Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  start_ms: 178360\n  end_ms: 180050\n- text: Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  start_ms: 180050\n  end_ms: 182690\n- text: But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  start_ms: 182690\n  end_ms: 186120\n- text: Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  start_ms: 186120\n  end_ms: 189660\n- text: So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  start_ms: 189660\n  end_ms: 192270\n- text: Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  start_ms: 192270\n  end_ms: 195750\n- text: Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  start_ms: 195750\n  end_ms: 198360\n- text: Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  start_ms: 198360\n  end_ms: 201000\n- text: Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  start_ms: 201000\n  end_ms: 203670\n- text: Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  start_ms: 203670\n  end_ms: 209730\n- text: I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  start_ms: 209730\n  end_ms: 213200\n- text: Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n  start_ms: 213200\n  end_ms: 215870\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 215870\nplain: |-\n  Ever notice when you talk I just cut myself?\n  On some ultimate fuck you, go fuck yourself\n  Like that was so heartfelt, you really touched yourself\n  I loved the part where you cried, I liked nothing else\n  Who me? Every breath is a criminal, critical breach\n  Bloody guns, speech, beat minimalisimo\n  Make you spin like you sniffing that god particle\n  That purple cloak of the dusk, an odd article\n  Originator decay, caterwaul brand, dawn treader rising\n  Hollow man bop, gliding\n  Shuffle through the tides of slime smiling\n  Could be the high or just mind control dying\n  Fuck it throw me on the problem pile\n  I'm a grin from the garbage, stained parchment\n  Peeking out of my blinds in the apartment\n  Waiting for that \"Hark hear that archangel calling?\"\n\n  Pocket full of air plus nothing to wear\n  I've been told I was put here to fail\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n  I'm strapped in shaved head in an electric chair\n  With a grin going out with a flair\n  But never ask me to hail\n  Never ask me to hail\n\n  Jesus turned water to wine, I turn liquor to ur-ine\n  Sex with one whore is deplorable I need four at a time\n  Maybe i'm lost in the grind, haunted by all I desire\n  Forcibly caused to be normal, bonded and tossed in the fire\n  Cross hairs of corporate design, cogs that all move in align-\n  Meant to be something other than this but I think I forgot\n  Shyamalan twist in the plot, camelot sword from the rock\n  No I won't piss in your pot, life put that bishop in pac\n  Visceral, villianous, vindictated by venomous vibes\n  Vicious, concealing, my mental illness by willing a smile\n  Endless, intentions to climb, uphill and piss in the sky\n  (Brooklyn is up in this motherfucker so suck on our) cock\n\n  Check!\n  The natural magician, these rappers' nutrition\n  I'm shitting on their writtens while I'm pissing on their freestyles\n  My patterns are argyle, your's more checker board\n  My lecture is Lecter, your texture is pocket protector\n  With techniques I tech up your sector\n  Inspector Gadget with the ratchet\n  Bitch won a beauty pageant, bought her ass a rabbit\n  But not a furry bunny bitch I'm all about these moneys\n  Ah! Tummy empty and I'm dazed when sunny\n  So I had to sell crack cause I ain't wanna be bummy\n  Granny gave me couple dollars while she played gin and rummy\n  Off that Mobb Deep shit had me saying dunny\n  Done. This nigga here is not a dummy\n  Look at all that he has done, you niggas feeling crummy\n  Gummy bear you running where? It's like a fat bitch running a hundred stairs\n  I'm Ric Flair, with thick hair\n  Yelling out \"Woo!\" getting head in the director's chair\n"}]