[{"id":11105739,"name":"John Blaze (Instrumental)","trackName":"John Blaze (Instrumental)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze (Instrumental)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":13242081,"name":"John Blaze (Feat. Nas, Big Punisher, Raekwon & Jadakiss)","trackName":"John Blaze (Feat. Nas, Big Punisher, Raekwon & Jadakiss)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":290.506667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze (Feat. Nas, Big Punisher, Raekwon & Jadakiss)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 290507\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":17193012,"name":"John Blaze (Album) (Feat. Nas, Big Pun, Jadakiss & Raekwon)","trackName":"John Blaze (Album) (Feat. Nas, Big Pun, Jadakiss & Raekwon)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":289.322625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze (Album) (Feat. Nas, Big Pun, Jadakiss & Raekwon)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 289323\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":30434967,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1","duration":289.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1\n  duration_ms: 289000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":29507812,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Queensbridge Murderer","duration":284.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Queensbridge Murderer\n  duration_ms: 284000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":19106977,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena","duration":281.48,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena\n  duration_ms: 281480\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":20816554,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena","duration":279.066112,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena\n  duration_ms: 279066\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":13597944,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1","duration":285.988571,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.05] one: nas\n[00:18.70] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:21.03] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:23.54] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:25.96] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:28.59] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:31.38] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:33.90] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:37.09] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:38.96] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:41.54] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:44.59] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:47.19] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:49.93] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:52.20] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:55.36] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:57.49] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[01:00.17] two: big punisher\n[01:01.69] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[01:03.24] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:05.80] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:08.32] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:10.99] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:13.11] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:16.12] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:18.60] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:21.43] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:23.35] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:26.60] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:29.32] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:32.12] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:34.55] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:37.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:39.86] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:42.60] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:46.59] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:48.25] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:50.28] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:51.89] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:52.95] three: jadakiss\n[01:53.84] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:55.64] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:58.14] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[02:00.84] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[02:03.48] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:05.94] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:08.51] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:11.47] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:14.13] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:16.93] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:19.24] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:21.76] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:24.47] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:27.19] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:29.49] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:32.43] four: raekwon\n[02:33.42] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:35.08] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:37.98] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:40.30] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:43.00] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:45.56] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:48.33] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:50.86] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:54.02] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:56.15] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:59.25] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[03:02.38] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:04.27] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:06.16] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:09.77] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:12.36] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:14.32] five: fat joe\n[03:27.71] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:30.15] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:33.44] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:35.98] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:38.55] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:41.89] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:43.62] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:45.88] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:49.33] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:51.48] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:53.95] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:56.33] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:59.57] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[04:01.57] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:04.85] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:07.76] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:10.56] 2x\n[04:12.75] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1\n  duration_ms: 285989\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 3050\n  end_ms: 18700\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 18700\n  end_ms: 21030\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 21030\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25960\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 25960\n  end_ms: 28590\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 28590\n  end_ms: 31380\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 31380\n  end_ms: 33900\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 33900\n  end_ms: 37090\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 37090\n  end_ms: 38960\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 38960\n  end_ms: 41540\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 41540\n  end_ms: 44590\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 44590\n  end_ms: 47190\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 47190\n  end_ms: 49930\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 49930\n  end_ms: 52200\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 52200\n  end_ms: 55360\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 55360\n  end_ms: 57490\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 57490\n  end_ms: 60170\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 60170\n  end_ms: 61690\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 61690\n  end_ms: 63240\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 63240\n  end_ms: 65800\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 65800\n  end_ms: 68320\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 68320\n  end_ms: 70990\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 70990\n  end_ms: 73110\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 73110\n  end_ms: 76120\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 76120\n  end_ms: 78600\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 78600\n  end_ms: 81430\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 81430\n  end_ms: 83350\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 83350\n  end_ms: 86600\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 86600\n  end_ms: 89320\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 89320\n  end_ms: 92120\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 92120\n  end_ms: 94550\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 94550\n  end_ms: 97320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 97320\n  end_ms: 99860\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 99860\n  end_ms: 102600\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 102600\n  end_ms: 106590\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 106590\n  end_ms: 108250\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 108250\n  end_ms: 110280\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 110280\n  end_ms: 111890\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 111890\n  end_ms: 112950\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 112950\n  end_ms: 113840\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 113840\n  end_ms: 115640\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 115640\n  end_ms: 118140\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 118140\n  end_ms: 120840\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 120840\n  end_ms: 123480\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 123480\n  end_ms: 125940\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 125940\n  end_ms: 128510\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 128510\n  end_ms: 131470\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 131470\n  end_ms: 134130\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 134130\n  end_ms: 136930\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 136930\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 141760\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 141760\n  end_ms: 144470\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 144470\n  end_ms: 147190\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 147190\n  end_ms: 149490\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 149490\n  end_ms: 152430\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 152430\n  end_ms: 153420\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 153420\n  end_ms: 155080\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 155080\n  end_ms: 157980\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 157980\n  end_ms: 160300\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 160300\n  end_ms: 163000\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 163000\n  end_ms: 165560\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 165560\n  end_ms: 168330\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 168330\n  end_ms: 170860\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 170860\n  end_ms: 174020\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 174020\n  end_ms: 176150\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 176150\n  end_ms: 179250\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 179250\n  end_ms: 182380\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 182380\n  end_ms: 184270\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 184270\n  end_ms: 186160\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 186160\n  end_ms: 189770\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 189770\n  end_ms: 192360\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 192360\n  end_ms: 194320\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 194320\n  end_ms: 207710\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 207710\n  end_ms: 210150\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 210150\n  end_ms: 213440\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 213440\n  end_ms: 215980\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 215980\n  end_ms: 218550\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 218550\n  end_ms: 221890\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 221890\n  end_ms: 223620\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 223620\n  end_ms: 225880\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 225880\n  end_ms: 229330\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 229330\n  end_ms: 231480\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 231480\n  end_ms: 233950\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 233950\n  end_ms: 236330\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 236330\n  end_ms: 239570\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 239570\n  end_ms: 241570\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 241570\n  end_ms: 244850\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 244850\n  end_ms: 247760\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 247760\n  end_ms: 250560\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 250560\n  end_ms: 252750\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 252750\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":24555650,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Endangered Species","duration":290.4635,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Endangered Species\n  duration_ms: 290464\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":11440485,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42] one: nas\n[00:14.08] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66] two: big punisher\n[00:57.19] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79] three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67] four: raekwon\n[02:28.59] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19] five: fat joe\n[03:23.75] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16] 2x\n[04:47.01] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":12234742,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Endangered Species","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.53] one: nas\n[00:01.73] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:04.39] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:06.58] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:09.77] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:12.25] Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:14.70] In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:17.34] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:20.24] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:22.86] The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:25.29] Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:27.78] Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:30.60] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:33.20] I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:35.46] Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:38.74] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:40.80] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:43.69] two: big punisher\n[00:44.43] My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:46.30] Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[00:49.26] Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[00:51.69] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[00:54.17] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[00:56.49] I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[00:59.44] Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:02.20] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:04.81] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:06.99] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:09.71] I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:12.72] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:15.60] Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:18.04] Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:20.35] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:23.20] Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:26.02] scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:27.22] J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:28.45] Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:30.92] J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:33.76] \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:36.20] three: jadakiss\n[01:36.99] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:38.65] And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:41.68] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:44.19] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:46.65] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[01:49.34] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[01:51.84] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[01:54.84] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[01:57.54] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[01:59.98] 'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:02.64] You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:05.41] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:07.87] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:10.42] Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:12.62] Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:15.84] four: raekwon\n[02:17.06] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:18.68] Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:21.19] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:23.68] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:26.22] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:28.82] Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:31.48] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:34.18] Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:36.80] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:39.50] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:42.36] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:44.53] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[02:47.56] Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[02:50.12] Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[02:52.95] Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[02:55.45] Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[02:58.18] five: fat joe\n[02:58.57] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:13.46] Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:16.17] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:19.36] Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:21.92] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:25.11] For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:27.25] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:28.84] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:32.18] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:34.55] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:37.19] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:39.72] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:42.98] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:44.93] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[03:47.98] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[03:51.05] Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[03:53.33] 2x\n[04:02.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Endangered Species\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 530\n  end_ms: 1730\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 1730\n  end_ms: 4390\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 4390\n  end_ms: 6580\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 6580\n  end_ms: 9770\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 9770\n  end_ms: 12250\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 12250\n  end_ms: 14700\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 14700\n  end_ms: 17340\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 17340\n  end_ms: 20240\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 20240\n  end_ms: 22860\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 22860\n  end_ms: 25290\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 25290\n  end_ms: 27780\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 27780\n  end_ms: 30600\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 30600\n  end_ms: 33200\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 33200\n  end_ms: 35460\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 35460\n  end_ms: 38740\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 38740\n  end_ms: 40800\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 40800\n  end_ms: 43690\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 43690\n  end_ms: 44430\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 44430\n  end_ms: 46300\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 46300\n  end_ms: 49260\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 49260\n  end_ms: 51690\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 51690\n  end_ms: 54170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 54170\n  end_ms: 56490\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 56490\n  end_ms: 59440\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 59440\n  end_ms: 62200\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 62200\n  end_ms: 64810\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 64810\n  end_ms: 66990\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 66990\n  end_ms: 69710\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 69710\n  end_ms: 72720\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 72720\n  end_ms: 75600\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 75600\n  end_ms: 78040\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 78040\n  end_ms: 80350\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 80350\n  end_ms: 83200\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 83200\n  end_ms: 86020\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 86020\n  end_ms: 87220\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 87220\n  end_ms: 88450\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 88450\n  end_ms: 90920\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 90920\n  end_ms: 93760\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 93760\n  end_ms: 96200\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 96200\n  end_ms: 96990\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 96990\n  end_ms: 98650\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 98650\n  end_ms: 101680\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 101680\n  end_ms: 104190\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 104190\n  end_ms: 106650\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 106650\n  end_ms: 109340\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 109340\n  end_ms: 111840\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 111840\n  end_ms: 114840\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 114840\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 119980\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 119980\n  end_ms: 122640\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 122640\n  end_ms: 125410\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 125410\n  end_ms: 127870\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 127870\n  end_ms: 130420\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 130420\n  end_ms: 132620\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 132620\n  end_ms: 135840\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 135840\n  end_ms: 137060\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 137060\n  end_ms: 138680\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 138680\n  end_ms: 141190\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 141190\n  end_ms: 143680\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 143680\n  end_ms: 146220\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 146220\n  end_ms: 148820\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 148820\n  end_ms: 151480\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 151480\n  end_ms: 154180\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 154180\n  end_ms: 156800\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 156800\n  end_ms: 159500\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 159500\n  end_ms: 162360\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 162360\n  end_ms: 164530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 164530\n  end_ms: 167560\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 167560\n  end_ms: 170120\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 170120\n  end_ms: 172950\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 172950\n  end_ms: 175450\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 175450\n  end_ms: 178180\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 178180\n  end_ms: 178570\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 178570\n  end_ms: 193460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 193460\n  end_ms: 196170\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 196170\n  end_ms: 199360\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 199360\n  end_ms: 201920\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 201920\n  end_ms: 205110\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 205110\n  end_ms: 207250\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 207250\n  end_ms: 208840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 208840\n  end_ms: 212180\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 212180\n  end_ms: 214550\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 214550\n  end_ms: 217190\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 217190\n  end_ms: 219720\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 219720\n  end_ms: 222980\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 222980\n  end_ms: 224930\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 224930\n  end_ms: 227980\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 227980\n  end_ms: 231050\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 231050\n  end_ms: 233330\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 233330\n  end_ms: 242470\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 242470\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":37613910,"name":"John Blaze","trackName":"John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1","duration":272.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"one: nas\n\nMy stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\nStabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label to earn\nLike that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\nI'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\nBetween latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\ntwo: big punisher\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\nJust give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\nHah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial college material insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\nOut of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nscratches by dj spinbad\n\nJ-j-j-john blaze\nJa-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\nJ-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\nthree: jadakiss\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\nAnd spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\nYou could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\nFuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\nfour: raekwon\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\nSpecialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\nFeelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\nStart the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\nfive: fat joe\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\nTerror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fuckin with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n2x","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.42]one: nas\n[00:14.08]My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:16.80]Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:19.51]Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:22.22]He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n[00:24.93]Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n[00:27.65]In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n[00:30.36]In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.07]I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:34.88]The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n[00:37.64]Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n[00:40.35]Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n[00:43.08]Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n[00:45.80]I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n[00:48.52]Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n[00:51.23]So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:53.04]To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:56.66]two: big punisher\n[00:57.19]My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n[00:59.00]Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n[01:01.71]Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n[01:04.46]Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.17]I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:08.97]I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.62]Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n[01:15.33]The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.05]I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:19.86]Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.47]I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:26.18]Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.90]Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n[01:30.70]Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.32]I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.13]Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:38.83]scratches by dj spinbad\n[01:40.64]J-j-j-john blaze\n[01:43.36]Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n[01:46.98]J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n[01:47.88]\"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n[01:48.79]three: jadakiss\n[01:49.69]Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n[01:51.50]And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n[01:54.22]Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:56.93]Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:59.64]Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[02:02.35]Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n[02:05.07]Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n[02:07.78]Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.49]Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.21]'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n[02:15.92]You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n[02:18.63]Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:20.44]Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:23.15]Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n[02:25.86]Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n[02:27.67]four: raekwon\n[02:28.59]My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.30]Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:34.02]Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:36.74]In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.45]The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.16]Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n[02:43.97]This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:46.68]Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n[02:50.29]Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:52.10]With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.72]Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.53]Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n[03:00.24]Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n[03:02.95]Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[03:05.67]Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n[03:08.38]Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n[03:10.19]five: fat joe\n[03:23.75]It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.46]Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:29.18]Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n[03:31.90]Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n[03:34.61]I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:38.23]For fuckin with my funds on the first\n[03:40.03]And go to church like a mobster\n[03:41.84]Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n[03:45.46]Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:47.26]Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:49.98]Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:52.69]Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:55.40]I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.11]I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n[04:00.82]You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.44]Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n[04:07.16]2x\n[04:47.01]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Hits & Unreleased, Volume 1\n  duration_ms: 272000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: 'one: nas'\n  start_ms: 1420\n  end_ms: 14080\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14080\n  end_ms: 16800\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 16800\n  end_ms: 19510\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 19510\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24930\n- text: Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 24930\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30360\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30360\n  end_ms: 33070\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33070\n  end_ms: 34880\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  start_ms: 34880\n  end_ms: 37640\n- text: Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  start_ms: 37640\n  end_ms: 40350\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 40350\n  end_ms: 43080\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  start_ms: 43080\n  end_ms: 45800\n- text: I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45800\n  end_ms: 48520\n- text: Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  start_ms: 48520\n  end_ms: 51230\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51230\n  end_ms: 53040\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 53040\n  end_ms: 56660\n- text: 'two: big punisher'\n  start_ms: 56660\n  end_ms: 57190\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  start_ms: 57190\n  end_ms: 59000\n- text: Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  start_ms: 59000\n  end_ms: 61710\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  start_ms: 61710\n  end_ms: 64460\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 64460\n  end_ms: 67170\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67170\n  end_ms: 68970\n- text: I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 68970\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 75330\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75330\n  end_ms: 78050\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78050\n  end_ms: 79860\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 79860\n  end_ms: 83470\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83470\n  end_ms: 86180\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86180\n  end_ms: 88900\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  start_ms: 88900\n  end_ms: 90700\n- text: Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90700\n  end_ms: 94320\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94320\n  end_ms: 96130\n- text: Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 96130\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: scratches by dj spinbad\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 100640\n- text: J-j-j-john blaze\n  start_ms: 100640\n  end_ms: 103360\n- text: Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  start_ms: 103360\n  end_ms: 106980\n- text: J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  start_ms: 106980\n  end_ms: 107880\n- text: '\"johnny blaze ain''t a damn thing changed!\" --> method man'\n  start_ms: 107880\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: 'three: jadakiss'\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 109690\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  start_ms: 109690\n  end_ms: 111500\n- text: And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  start_ms: 111500\n  end_ms: 114220\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114220\n  end_ms: 116930\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 116930\n  end_ms: 119640\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 119640\n  end_ms: 122350\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 122350\n  end_ms: 125070\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 125070\n  end_ms: 127780\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 127780\n  end_ms: 130490\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130490\n  end_ms: 133210\n- text: '''kiss ain''t the cops, but I lock niggaz up'\n  start_ms: 133210\n  end_ms: 135920\n- text: You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  start_ms: 135920\n  end_ms: 138630\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138630\n  end_ms: 140440\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 140440\n  end_ms: 143150\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  start_ms: 143150\n  end_ms: 145860\n- text: Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n  start_ms: 145860\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: 'four: raekwon'\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 148590\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148590\n  end_ms: 151300\n- text: Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 151300\n  end_ms: 154020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 154020\n  end_ms: 156740\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 156740\n  end_ms: 159450\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159450\n  end_ms: 162160\n- text: Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  start_ms: 162160\n  end_ms: 163970\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 163970\n  end_ms: 166680\n- text: Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  start_ms: 166680\n  end_ms: 170290\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 170290\n  end_ms: 172100\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 172100\n  end_ms: 175720\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175720\n  end_ms: 177530\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  start_ms: 177530\n  end_ms: 180240\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  start_ms: 180240\n  end_ms: 182950\n- text: Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 182950\n  end_ms: 185670\n- text: Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  start_ms: 185670\n  end_ms: 188380\n- text: Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188380\n  end_ms: 190190\n- text: 'five: fat joe'\n  start_ms: 190190\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 206460\n- text: Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 206460\n  end_ms: 209180\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  start_ms: 209180\n  end_ms: 211900\n- text: Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  start_ms: 211900\n  end_ms: 214610\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 214610\n  end_ms: 218230\n- text: For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218230\n  end_ms: 220030\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220030\n  end_ms: 221840\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  start_ms: 221840\n  end_ms: 225460\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 225460\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229980\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 229980\n  end_ms: 232690\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 232690\n  end_ms: 235400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 235400\n  end_ms: 238110\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  start_ms: 238110\n  end_ms: 240820\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 240820\n  end_ms: 244440\n- text: Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n  start_ms: 244440\n  end_ms: 247160\n- text: 2x\n  start_ms: 247160\n  end_ms: 287010\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 287010\nplain: |-\n  one: nas\n\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a no. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin students, grabbin teachers, catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin class, passin my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label to earn\n  Like that nigga said in _dead presidents_, money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage, respect nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that\n  I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest\n  Between latin kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  two: big punisher\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the pun must die\n  Just give me one try -- 'now you know you done fucked up right? '\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm terror squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial college material insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid\n  Out of bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  scratches by dj spinbad\n\n  J-j-j-john blaze\n  Ja-ja-ah-john bla-blaze\n  J-ja-j-ja, john blaze\n  \"johnny blaze ain't a damn thing changed!\" --> method man\n\n  three: jadakiss\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around\n  And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all i'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  'kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up\n  You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans\n  Fuck around with jason, that shorty from the lox, john blazin\n\n  four: raekwon\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out god, stackin up joints, rack em like footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the older god\n  Specialist, iciclist, woolridge collar\n  Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggaz who got heart god, sign em up\n  Start the wind up, we john blazin, don up in the line up\n\n  five: fat joe\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause joey crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited pun\n  Terror squad enterprise, undisputed dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fuckin with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the don and get john blazed\n\n  2x\n"},{"id":3683387,"name":"John Blaze Fat Joe featuring Big Pun, Nas, Raekwon, Jadakiss","trackName":"John Blaze Fat Joe featuring Big Pun, Nas, Raekwon, Jadakiss","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Endangered Species","duration":247.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\nStabbing students, grabbing teachers, Catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cutting class, passing my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\nThe table turned now, got my own label I earn\nLike that nigga said in \"Dead Presidents\", money to burn\nQueensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is the vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggas is this and that\nI'm just the best, putting all violence to rest\nBetween Latin Kings the bloods los sangres, blood in Spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die\nJust give me one try\nNow you know you done fucked up right\nHah, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\nQue te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\nI hate an actor that plays a rapper\nI'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial, college material, insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter your shit'll shatter\nI'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\nJ-J-J-John Blaze\nJa-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze\nJ-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze\nJohnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed\n\nAiyyo my attitude is subject to change\nI mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range\nSix hit you, the other six, up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nTake heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\nCause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya\nOnly cause I know that faggots respect pressure\nHardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\nKiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\nYou could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggas get nathans\nFuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin\n\nMy son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\nIn the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out God, stacking up joints, rack em like Footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\nHere to Crenshaw\nHold my words stronger than a Benz stall\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated\nWith the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex, imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God\nSpecialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\nFeeling the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\nBroke niggas who got heart God, sign 'em up\nStart the wind up, we John Blazin\nDon up in the line up\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\nCause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\nTerror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\nFor fucking with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster\nWith my Cuban partners\nLucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\nYou best learn to parley, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the Don and get John Blazed","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.90] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:03.86] Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n[00:06.63] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:09.57] He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n[00:11.42] Stabbing students, grabbing teachers, Catholics, preachers\n[00:14.25] In the school staircase, cutting class, passing my reefer\n[00:17.05] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:19.98] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:22.67] The table turned now, got my own label I earn\n[00:24.46] Like that nigga said in \"Dead Presidents\", money to burn\n[00:27.27] Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is the vet\n[00:29.96] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggas is this and that\n[00:32.72] I'm just the best, putting all violence to rest\n[00:35.41] Between Latin Kings the bloods los sangres, blood in Spanish\n[00:37.35] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:40.94] To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n[00:42.98] My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die\n[00:46.55] Just give me one try\n[00:47.49] Now you know you done fucked up right\n[00:49.32] Hah, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n[00:51.18] Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n[00:54.73] I hate an actor that plays a rapper\n[00:56.58] I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n[00:58.45] Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n[01:02.03] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:04.77] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:06.58] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:10.25] I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you\n[01:13.06] Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:14.96] Soon as I chitter chatter your shit'll shatter\n[01:17.65] I'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:20.46] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:23.32] Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n[01:26.19] J-J-J-John Blaze\n[01:27.93] Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze\n[01:30.65] J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze\n[01:36.14] Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed\n[01:37.08] Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change\n[01:38.93] I mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range\n[01:41.62] Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n[01:43.44] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[01:46.20] Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n[01:48.98] Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\n[01:51.67] Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya\n[01:54.42] Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[01:57.23] Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n[01:59.92] Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n[02:01.71] You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n[02:04.59] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:07.31] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:10.94] Y'all hot dog niggas get nathans\n[02:11.87] Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin\n[02:15.45] My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n[02:18.22] Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make em move out\n[02:21.02] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n[02:22.89] In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:26.59] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:28.30] Strike me out God, stacking up joints, rack em like Footlocker\n[02:31.03] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n[02:33.77] Here to Crenshaw\n[02:36.46] Hold my words stronger than a Benz stall\n[02:37.49] Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n[02:39.22] With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:41.99] Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n[02:44.68] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God\n[02:46.46] Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n[02:49.93] Feeling the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n[02:52.63] Broke niggas who got heart God, sign 'em up\n[02:54.44] Start the wind up, we John Blazin\n[02:57.27] Don up in the line up\n[03:10.45] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:13.19] Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:16.88] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n[03:19.53] Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn\n[03:21.46] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n[03:25.00] For fucking with my funds on the first\n[03:27.77] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:28.68] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster\n[03:30.41] With my Cuban partners\n[03:32.27] Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n[03:34.00] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:36.85] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:39.64] Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:42.35] I'm hot, who wanna get burned\n[03:45.07] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n[03:47.77] You best learn to parley, I've had a hard day\n[03:50.54] Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n[03:53.27] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: John Blaze Fat Joe featuring Big Pun, Nas, Raekwon, Jadakiss\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Endangered Species\n  duration_ms: 247000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 1900\n  end_ms: 3860\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  start_ms: 3860\n  end_ms: 6630\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 6630\n  end_ms: 9570\n- text: He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 9570\n  end_ms: 11420\n- text: Stabbing students, grabbing teachers, Catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 11420\n  end_ms: 14250\n- text: In the school staircase, cutting class, passing my reefer\n  start_ms: 14250\n  end_ms: 17050\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 17050\n  end_ms: 19980\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 19980\n  end_ms: 22670\n- text: The table turned now, got my own label I earn\n  start_ms: 22670\n  end_ms: 24460\n- text: Like that nigga said in \"Dead Presidents\", money to burn\n  start_ms: 24460\n  end_ms: 27270\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is the vet\n  start_ms: 27270\n  end_ms: 29960\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggas is this and that\n  start_ms: 29960\n  end_ms: 32720\n- text: I'm just the best, putting all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 32720\n  end_ms: 35410\n- text: Between Latin Kings the bloods los sangres, blood in Spanish\n  start_ms: 35410\n  end_ms: 37350\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 37350\n  end_ms: 40940\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n  start_ms: 40940\n  end_ms: 42980\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die\n  start_ms: 42980\n  end_ms: 46550\n- text: Just give me one try\n  start_ms: 46550\n  end_ms: 47490\n- text: Now you know you done fucked up right\n  start_ms: 47490\n  end_ms: 49320\n- text: Hah, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n  start_ms: 49320\n  end_ms: 51180\n- text: Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 51180\n  end_ms: 54730\n- text: I hate an actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 54730\n  end_ms: 56580\n- text: I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 56580\n  end_ms: 58450\n- text: Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n  start_ms: 58450\n  end_ms: 62030\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 62030\n  end_ms: 64770\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 64770\n  end_ms: 66580\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 66580\n  end_ms: 70250\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 70250\n  end_ms: 73060\n- text: Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 73060\n  end_ms: 74960\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter your shit'll shatter\n  start_ms: 74960\n  end_ms: 77650\n- text: I'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 77650\n  end_ms: 80460\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 80460\n  end_ms: 83320\n- text: Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n  start_ms: 83320\n  end_ms: 86190\n- text: J-J-J-John Blaze\n  start_ms: 86190\n  end_ms: 87930\n- text: Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze\n  start_ms: 87930\n  end_ms: 90650\n- text: J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze\n  start_ms: 90650\n  end_ms: 96140\n- text: Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed\n  start_ms: 96140\n  end_ms: 97080\n- text: Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change\n  start_ms: 97080\n  end_ms: 98930\n- text: I mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range\n  start_ms: 98930\n  end_ms: 101620\n- text: Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  start_ms: 101620\n  end_ms: 103440\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 103440\n  end_ms: 106200\n- text: Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  start_ms: 106200\n  end_ms: 108980\n- text: Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\n  start_ms: 108980\n  end_ms: 111670\n- text: Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya\n  start_ms: 111670\n  end_ms: 114420\n- text: Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 114420\n  end_ms: 117230\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 117230\n  end_ms: 119920\n- text: Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n  start_ms: 119920\n  end_ms: 121710\n- text: You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n  start_ms: 121710\n  end_ms: 124590\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 124590\n  end_ms: 127310\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 127310\n  end_ms: 130940\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggas get nathans\n  start_ms: 130940\n  end_ms: 131870\n- text: Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin\n  start_ms: 131870\n  end_ms: 135450\n- text: My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 135450\n  end_ms: 138220\n- text: Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  start_ms: 138220\n  end_ms: 141020\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  start_ms: 141020\n  end_ms: 142890\n- text: In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 142890\n  end_ms: 146590\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 146590\n  end_ms: 148300\n- text: Strike me out God, stacking up joints, rack em like Footlocker\n  start_ms: 148300\n  end_ms: 151030\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  start_ms: 151030\n  end_ms: 153770\n- text: Here to Crenshaw\n  start_ms: 153770\n  end_ms: 156460\n- text: Hold my words stronger than a Benz stall\n  start_ms: 156460\n  end_ms: 157490\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  start_ms: 157490\n  end_ms: 159220\n- text: With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 159220\n  end_ms: 161990\n- text: Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 161990\n  end_ms: 164680\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God\n  start_ms: 164680\n  end_ms: 166460\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n  start_ms: 166460\n  end_ms: 169930\n- text: Feeling the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  start_ms: 169930\n  end_ms: 172630\n- text: Broke niggas who got heart God, sign 'em up\n  start_ms: 172630\n  end_ms: 174440\n- text: Start the wind up, we John Blazin\n  start_ms: 174440\n  end_ms: 177270\n- text: Don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 177270\n  end_ms: 190450\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 190450\n  end_ms: 193190\n- text: Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  start_ms: 193190\n  end_ms: 196880\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n  start_ms: 196880\n  end_ms: 199530\n- text: Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn\n  start_ms: 199530\n  end_ms: 201460\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  start_ms: 201460\n  end_ms: 205000\n- text: For fucking with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 205000\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 208680\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster\n  start_ms: 208680\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: With my Cuban partners\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212270\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  start_ms: 212270\n  end_ms: 214000\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 214000\n  end_ms: 216850\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 216850\n  end_ms: 219640\n- text: Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 219640\n  end_ms: 222350\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned\n  start_ms: 222350\n  end_ms: 225070\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n  start_ms: 225070\n  end_ms: 227770\n- text: You best learn to parley, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 227770\n  end_ms: 230540\n- text: Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n  start_ms: 230540\n  end_ms: 233270\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 233270\nplain: |-\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence -- credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n  Stabbing students, grabbing teachers, Catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cutting class, passing my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  The table turned now, got my own label I earn\n  Like that nigga said in \"Dead Presidents\", money to burn\n  Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is the vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggas is this and that\n  I'm just the best, putting all violence to rest\n  Between Latin Kings the bloods los sangres, blood in Spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die\n  Just give me one try\n  Now you know you done fucked up right\n  Hah, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n  Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate an actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter your shit'll shatter\n  I'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all\n\n  J-J-J-John Blaze\n  Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze\n  J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze\n  Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed\n\n  Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change\n  I mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range\n  Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim\n  Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya\n  Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for\n  Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n  You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggas get nathans\n  Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin\n\n  My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat\n  In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out God, stacking up joints, rack em like Footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent\n  Here to Crenshaw\n  Hold my words stronger than a Benz stall\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated\n  With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex, imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God\n  Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n  Feeling the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why\n  Broke niggas who got heart God, sign 'em up\n  Start the wind up, we John Blazin\n  Don up in the line up\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n  Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts\n  For fucking with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster\n  With my Cuban partners\n  Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n  You best learn to parley, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n"},{"id":30707162,"name":"07 John Blaze","trackName":"07 John Blaze","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\nMurder game, I leave no evidence, credentials\nGo ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\nHe'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\nStabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers\nIn the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer\nIn my own class, operation return, they tried to say\nI was incompetent, not able to learn\n\nThe tables turned now, got my own label I earned\nLike that nigga said in Dead Presidents, \"Money to burn\"\nQueensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet\nAcknowledge the rep, polish baguettes\nNiggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest\nBetween Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish\nSo many thugs vanish, unite the system\nTo fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison\n\nMy crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die\nJust give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?\nHa, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa\nI hate a actor that plays a rapper\nI'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper\nGrand imperial, college material, insane criminal\nThe same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n\nI reign subliminal inside your visual\nTry to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\nI'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you\nEven if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you\nSoon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter\nI'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\nI'm even better than before, iller metaphors\nKillers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all\n\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Bl-Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n\nAyo, my attitude is subject to change\nI mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range\nSix hit you, the other six up in your dame\nMafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\nSo take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim\n'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\nBetter believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you\nOnly 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n\nHardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for\nKiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\nYou could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\nFar as the flow go, you could let your dough show\nPut your money on the table, we could battle on cable\nY'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's\nFuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'\n\nMy son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out\nLet's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out\nCrushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash\nDid some dirt for some work, caught a gash\nThe flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\nStrike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker\nThis is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw\nHold my words stronger than a Benz store\n\nRelentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness\nDress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\nLex imagination large, gold cards\nBeat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God\nSpecialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\nFeelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch\nThat's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up\nStart the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up\n\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n\nIt's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\nJust when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\nTerror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don\nI'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts\nFor fuckin' with my funds on the first\nAnd go to church like a mobster\nDiscuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners\n\nLucas with the cartridge, 20 shot\nRun up on any block, disrespect any cop\nUsed to run many spots, now I own shops\nGore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop\nI'm hot, who wanna get burned?\nI fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\nYou best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\nFuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Bl-Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohn Blaze\nJohnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.84] My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n[00:17.88] Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials\n[00:20.31] Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n[00:23.08] He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n[00:25.68] Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers\n[00:28.25] In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer\n[00:30.84] In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n[00:33.79] I was incompetent, not able to learn\n[00:35.84] The tables turned now, got my own label I earned\n[00:38.42] Like that nigga said in Dead Presidents, \"Money to burn\"\n[00:41.29] Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet\n[00:43.75] Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes\n[00:45.62] Niggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest\n[00:49.02] Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish\n[00:51.94] So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n[00:54.48] To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison\n[00:56.94] My crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die\n[00:59.98] Just give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?\n[01:02.64] Ha, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n[01:05.14] ¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa\n[01:07.99] I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n[01:10.19] I'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper\n[01:12.65] Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n[01:15.54] The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n[01:18.11] I reign subliminal inside your visual\n[01:20.43] Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n[01:23.56] I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you\n[01:26.15] Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you\n[01:28.85] Soon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter\n[01:30.90] I'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n[01:34.16] I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n[01:36.80] Killers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all\n[01:39.30] John Blaze\n[01:41.06] John Blaze\n[01:43.38] John Bl-Blaze\n[01:46.17] John Blaze\n[01:47.12] Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n[01:49.32] Ayo, my attitude is subject to change\n[01:51.47] I mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range\n[01:54.86] Six hit you, the other six up in your dame\n[01:57.44] Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n[02:00.06] So take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim\n[02:02.71] 'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\n[02:05.36] Better believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you\n[02:08.38] Only 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n[02:10.76] Hardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for\n[02:13.75] Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n[02:16.13] You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n[02:18.75] Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n[02:21.30] Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n[02:24.18] Y'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's\n[02:26.14] Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'\n[02:28.89] My son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out\n[02:31.94] Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out\n[02:34.69] Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash\n[02:37.72] Did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n[02:39.76] The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n[02:42.15] Strike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker\n[02:45.26] This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw\n[02:48.42] Hold my words stronger than a Benz store\n[02:50.45] Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness\n[02:53.73] Dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n[02:55.82] Lex imagination large, gold cards\n[02:57.84] Beat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God\n[03:01.00] Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n[03:03.40] Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch\n[03:05.81] That's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up\n[03:08.52] Start the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up\n[03:14.23] John Blaze\n[03:17.99] John Blaze\n[03:20.78] John Blaze\n[03:22.37] Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n[03:24.55] It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n[03:26.70] 'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n[03:30.03] Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n[03:32.85] Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don\n[03:35.36] I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts\n[03:38.60] For fuckin' with my funds on the first\n[03:40.69] And go to church like a mobster\n[03:42.60] Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners\n[03:45.99] Lucas with the cartridge, 20 shot\n[03:47.96] Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n[03:50.64] Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n[03:53.30] Gore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop\n[03:56.40] I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n[03:58.24] I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n[04:01.40] You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n[04:04.47] Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n[04:07.70] John Blaze\n[04:10.67] John Bl-Blaze\n[04:13.59] John Blaze\n[04:14.84] Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n[04:18.50] John Blaze\n[04:21.21] John Blaze\n[04:23.99] John Blaze\n[04:25.41] Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n[04:28.72] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 07 John Blaze\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  start_ms: 14840\n  end_ms: 17880\n- text: Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials\n  start_ms: 17880\n  end_ms: 20310\n- text: Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  start_ms: 20310\n  end_ms: 23080\n- text: He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n  start_ms: 23080\n  end_ms: 25680\n- text: Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers\n  start_ms: 25680\n  end_ms: 28250\n- text: In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer\n  start_ms: 28250\n  end_ms: 30840\n- text: In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  start_ms: 30840\n  end_ms: 33790\n- text: I was incompetent, not able to learn\n  start_ms: 33790\n  end_ms: 35840\n- text: The tables turned now, got my own label I earned\n  start_ms: 35840\n  end_ms: 38420\n- text: Like that nigga said in Dead Presidents, \"Money to burn\"\n  start_ms: 38420\n  end_ms: 41290\n- text: Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet\n  start_ms: 41290\n  end_ms: 43750\n- text: Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes\n  start_ms: 43750\n  end_ms: 45620\n- text: Niggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest\n  start_ms: 45620\n  end_ms: 49020\n- text: Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish\n  start_ms: 49020\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 54480\n- text: To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison\n  start_ms: 54480\n  end_ms: 56940\n- text: My crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die\n  start_ms: 56940\n  end_ms: 59980\n- text: Just give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?\n  start_ms: 59980\n  end_ms: 62640\n- text: Ha, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n  start_ms: 62640\n  end_ms: 65140\n- text: ¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa\n  start_ms: 65140\n  end_ms: 67990\n- text: I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  start_ms: 67990\n  end_ms: 70190\n- text: I'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper\n  start_ms: 70190\n  end_ms: 72650\n- text: Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n  start_ms: 72650\n  end_ms: 75540\n- text: The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n  start_ms: 75540\n  end_ms: 78110\n- text: I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  start_ms: 78110\n  end_ms: 80430\n- text: Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  start_ms: 80430\n  end_ms: 83560\n- text: I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you\n  start_ms: 83560\n  end_ms: 86150\n- text: Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you\n  start_ms: 86150\n  end_ms: 88850\n- text: Soon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter\n  start_ms: 88850\n  end_ms: 90900\n- text: I'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  start_ms: 90900\n  end_ms: 94160\n- text: I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  start_ms: 94160\n  end_ms: 96800\n- text: Killers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all\n  start_ms: 96800\n  end_ms: 99300\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 99300\n  end_ms: 101060\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 101060\n  end_ms: 103380\n- text: John Bl-Blaze\n  start_ms: 103380\n  end_ms: 106170\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 106170\n  end_ms: 107120\n- text: Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n  start_ms: 107120\n  end_ms: 109320\n- text: Ayo, my attitude is subject to change\n  start_ms: 109320\n  end_ms: 111470\n- text: I mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range\n  start_ms: 111470\n  end_ms: 114860\n- text: Six hit you, the other six up in your dame\n  start_ms: 114860\n  end_ms: 117440\n- text: Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  start_ms: 117440\n  end_ms: 120060\n- text: So take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim\n  start_ms: 120060\n  end_ms: 122710\n- text: '''Cause y''all misdemeanor niggas can''t stand the reign'\n  start_ms: 122710\n  end_ms: 125360\n- text: Better believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you\n  start_ms: 125360\n  end_ms: 128380\n- text: Only 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n  start_ms: 128380\n  end_ms: 130760\n- text: Hardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for\n  start_ms: 130760\n  end_ms: 133750\n- text: Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n  start_ms: 133750\n  end_ms: 136130\n- text: You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n  start_ms: 136130\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 141300\n- text: Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  start_ms: 141300\n  end_ms: 144180\n- text: Y'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's\n  start_ms: 144180\n  end_ms: 146140\n- text: Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'\n  start_ms: 146140\n  end_ms: 148890\n- text: My son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out\n  start_ms: 148890\n  end_ms: 151940\n- text: Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out\n  start_ms: 151940\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157720\n- text: Did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  start_ms: 157720\n  end_ms: 159760\n- text: The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  start_ms: 159760\n  end_ms: 162150\n- text: Strike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker\n  start_ms: 162150\n  end_ms: 165260\n- text: This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw\n  start_ms: 165260\n  end_ms: 168420\n- text: Hold my words stronger than a Benz store\n  start_ms: 168420\n  end_ms: 170450\n- text: Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness\n  start_ms: 170450\n  end_ms: 173730\n- text: Dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  start_ms: 173730\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Lex imagination large, gold cards\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 177840\n- text: Beat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God\n  start_ms: 177840\n  end_ms: 181000\n- text: Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n  start_ms: 181000\n  end_ms: 183400\n- text: Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch\n  start_ms: 183400\n  end_ms: 185810\n- text: That's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up\n  start_ms: 185810\n  end_ms: 188520\n- text: Start the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up\n  start_ms: 188520\n  end_ms: 194230\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 194230\n  end_ms: 197990\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 197990\n  end_ms: 200780\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 200780\n  end_ms: 202370\n- text: Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n  start_ms: 202370\n  end_ms: 204550\n- text: It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  start_ms: 204550\n  end_ms: 206700\n- text: '''Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers'\n  start_ms: 206700\n  end_ms: 210030\n- text: Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n  start_ms: 210030\n  end_ms: 212850\n- text: Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don\n  start_ms: 212850\n  end_ms: 215360\n- text: I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts\n  start_ms: 215360\n  end_ms: 218600\n- text: For fuckin' with my funds on the first\n  start_ms: 218600\n  end_ms: 220690\n- text: And go to church like a mobster\n  start_ms: 220690\n  end_ms: 222600\n- text: Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners\n  start_ms: 222600\n  end_ms: 225990\n- text: Lucas with the cartridge, 20 shot\n  start_ms: 225990\n  end_ms: 227960\n- text: Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  start_ms: 227960\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233300\n- text: Gore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  start_ms: 233300\n  end_ms: 236400\n- text: I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  start_ms: 236400\n  end_ms: 238240\n- text: I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n  start_ms: 238240\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 244470\n- text: Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n  start_ms: 244470\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250670\n- text: John Bl-Blaze\n  start_ms: 250670\n  end_ms: 253590\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 253590\n  end_ms: 254840\n- text: Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n  start_ms: 254840\n  end_ms: 258500\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 258500\n  end_ms: 261210\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 261210\n  end_ms: 263990\n- text: John Blaze\n  start_ms: 263990\n  end_ms: 265410\n- text: Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n  start_ms: 265410\n  end_ms: 268720\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 268720\nplain: |-\n  My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence\n  Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials\n  Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal\n  He'd tell you how I used to pack a No. 2 pencil\n  Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers\n  In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer\n  In my own class, operation return, they tried to say\n  I was incompetent, not able to learn\n\n  The tables turned now, got my own label I earned\n  Like that nigga said in Dead Presidents, \"Money to burn\"\n  Queensbridge, pay homage respect, Nas is a vet\n  Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes\n  Niggas is this and that, I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest\n  Between Latin Kings and blood, los sangres, blood in Spanish\n  So many thugs vanish, unite the system\n  To fight with inner street wisdom to help teach in prison\n\n  My crew puff lye, anyone testin' Pun must die\n  Just give me one try, now you know you done fucked up, right?\n  Ha, you ain't got no wins in mi casa\n  ¿Qué te pasa? You ain't even in my clasa\n  I hate a actor that plays a rapper\n  I'm Terror Squad beta kappa, everybody's favorite rapper\n  Grand imperial, college material, insane criminal\n  The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral\n\n  I reign subliminal inside your visual\n  Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical\n  I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddy do, no kidding you\n  Even if I stuttered, I would still sh-sh-shit on you\n  Soon as I chitter chatter, your shit'll shatter\n  I'm the kid out of the Bronx that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter\n  I'm even better than before, iller metaphors\n  Killers bet it all on Pun 'cause one verse dead 'em all\n\n  John Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  John Bl-Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n\n  Ayo, my attitude is subject to change\n  I mess around and spit 12 at the driver's side door of your Range\n  Six hit you, the other six up in your dame\n  Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains\n  So take heed that not only can I flow, I can aim\n  'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggas can't stand the reign\n  Better believe that whenever I see y'all, I'ma test you\n  Only 'cause I know that faggots respect pressure\n\n  Hardcore, like shit you get kicked out the yard for\n  Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggas up\n  You could meet me in my cell, I soap and sock niggas up\n  Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show\n  Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable\n  Y'all hot dog niggas get Nathan's\n  Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'\n\n  My son cool out (what), don't beef, yo, throw the tool out\n  Let's run these niggas, kidnap they work, make 'em move out\n  Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash\n  Did some dirt for some work, caught a gash\n  The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear\n  Strike me out, God, stackin' up joints, rack 'em like Footlocker\n  This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent here to Crenshaw\n  Hold my words stronger than a Benz store\n\n  Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness\n  Dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness\n  Lex imagination large, gold cards\n  Beat the bogus squad brains that connect, put on the Older God\n  Specialist, iciclist, Woolrich collar\n  Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar, don't snitch\n  That's why broke niggas who got heart, God, sign 'em up\n  Start the wind up, we John Blazin', don up in the line up\n\n  John Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n\n  It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us\n  'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers\n  Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun\n  Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed don\n  I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts\n  For fuckin' with my funds on the first\n  And go to church like a mobster\n  Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners\n\n  Lucas with the cartridge, 20 shot\n  Run up on any block, disrespect any cop\n  Used to run many spots, now I own shops\n  Gore-Tex with the lock, five sixty-four bills a pop\n  I'm hot, who wanna get burned?\n  I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn\n  You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day\n  Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed\n\n  John Blaze\n  John Bl-Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n  John Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  John Blaze\n  Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed\n"},{"id":15120378,"name":"The Hidden Hand (Feat. The Terror Squad)","trackName":"The Hidden Hand (Feat. The Terror Squad)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":306.626667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yea, time to educate the youth (Speak on it God)\nCause if we won't, then who will? (True)\nTerror Squad style, yo\n(Speak on it God)\n\nYo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence\nMessin around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson\nStressin all the things that I have not\nI pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot\nI hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock\nbut never crack the case cause the defendant's a bad cop\nYou feel me fam? The devil's got a plan\nThat's why Farrakhan formed a Million Man up in Washington\nThe Hidden Hand even planned this man\nHave me goin hand to hand, killin my own clan\nBut now I understand and see the big picture\nFuck cryin about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer\n\n[Cuban Link]\nShit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin coppin capsules\nRockin tattoos, boppin with ankles locked in shackles\nGot the cops joggin at you, spittin rounds of clips, they down wit it\nNew clowns'll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit\nNow it's been written that all men are equal, but then it's legal\nwhen they beat us and treat us as if we're different people\nWe go for delf, fuck the cop's health\nI'd rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts\nCause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land\nso the palest man could build a selfish plan\nYou know we can't trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin\ndrugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him\nEven McGruff is in it, gettin a percentage\nTakin advantage, punishin just blacks and hispanics\n\n[Big Punisher]\nMy heart is cold as ice, so I know I'm sheist, Big Pun was the kid\nthat no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice\nPayin a price twice as expensive as white kids\nDestined for Riker's not knowin my existance was priceless\nIT'S LIKE THIS, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes\nfightin the nicest in the crisis I slice em in half and make em dash\nlike hyphens, invitin any rapper to Clash With the Titan\nThe writing's like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson\nI'm hypein the crowd, keepin em Loud like my label\nI'm proud I'm able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto\nI found me a little sanity inside a career and a family\nNo more wars and renderin tears to insanity\nSo keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it\nThere's my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don't want it\n\n[Triple Seis]\nI'm a Dominican, stranded in New York like Filligan\nDon't wanna get locked up in the pen again\nBut here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin for guns\nTurnin they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs\nThey authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin heat\nFour deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez\nFuck the police, usin \"probable cause\" to break laws\nBehind the badge you try to cover up your racial war\nI got somethin for you boys in blue\nThe system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do?\nI never let the faggot pull the trig first\nIt won't be no American flag over my hearse\nWhat's worse, you know they disperse for bucks\nSo take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks\n\n[Armaggedon]\nThis dude, he had the darkest pads\nWho dressed up in the heart of brash\nForever talkin trash\nHow he stacked niggaz to almanac\nGunshots to corner four police informants\nStood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance\nHe raised the pull of grace, a razor blew his face\nForce calm the? sere? plus a pack of the? dunga dun? laced with toothpaste\nLife ain't to be gambled son, you could get trampled\nby people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel\nThat's what his poppa said whose locked for droppin Akmed\nin the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed\nHe ain't listen, he became a braindead cocaine head\nOlder Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin? bagualitos?\nBut hey little kids, don't follow these dopes\n\n[Prospect]\nWhat? Uh-huh, yea I can dig that\nThey call me Prospect, I just came back from?\nHad this track on pause, now I'm back on course\nIt's lost on the Ave, tryin to take my life from the past\nGet this legal cash,? without dad\nKinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity\nOnly if he had one love, trust for liberty\nthis world would be a better place, get what it takes\nin a race to racism replace the snake in em\nBad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate\nI'm tryin to keep this positive vibe, and from that\nI generate to the top, like Puffy won't stop\nI'm mature now, with one knot, from tryin to get locked\nAnd to the shorties on the block, tryin to twist 40 tops\nGet your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker\nAnd stop speedin like a Kawasaki\nFrom my life, to your life, I'm touchin everybody Twinz watch me\n\nEverything we speak is the truth\nFrom Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second\nThe whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth\nTerror Squad","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The Hidden Hand (Feat. The Terror Squad)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 306627\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yea, time to educate the youth (Speak on it God)\n  Cause if we won't, then who will? (True)\n  Terror Squad style, yo\n  (Speak on it God)\n\n  Yo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence\n  Messin around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson\n  Stressin all the things that I have not\n  I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot\n  I hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock\n  but never crack the case cause the defendant's a bad cop\n  You feel me fam? The devil's got a plan\n  That's why Farrakhan formed a Million Man up in Washington\n  The Hidden Hand even planned this man\n  Have me goin hand to hand, killin my own clan\n  But now I understand and see the big picture\n  Fuck cryin about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer\n\n  [Cuban Link]\n  Shit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin coppin capsules\n  Rockin tattoos, boppin with ankles locked in shackles\n  Got the cops joggin at you, spittin rounds of clips, they down wit it\n  New clowns'll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit\n  Now it's been written that all men are equal, but then it's legal\n  when they beat us and treat us as if we're different people\n  We go for delf, fuck the cop's health\n  I'd rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts\n  Cause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land\n  so the palest man could build a selfish plan\n  You know we can't trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin\n  drugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him\n  Even McGruff is in it, gettin a percentage\n  Takin advantage, punishin just blacks and hispanics\n\n  [Big Punisher]\n  My heart is cold as ice, so I know I'm sheist, Big Pun was the kid\n  that no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice\n  Payin a price twice as expensive as white kids\n  Destined for Riker's not knowin my existance was priceless\n  IT'S LIKE THIS, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes\n  fightin the nicest in the crisis I slice em in half and make em dash\n  like hyphens, invitin any rapper to Clash With the Titan\n  The writing's like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson\n  I'm hypein the crowd, keepin em Loud like my label\n  I'm proud I'm able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto\n  I found me a little sanity inside a career and a family\n  No more wars and renderin tears to insanity\n  So keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it\n  There's my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don't want it\n\n  [Triple Seis]\n  I'm a Dominican, stranded in New York like Filligan\n  Don't wanna get locked up in the pen again\n  But here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin for guns\n  Turnin they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs\n  They authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin heat\n  Four deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez\n  Fuck the police, usin \"probable cause\" to break laws\n  Behind the badge you try to cover up your racial war\n  I got somethin for you boys in blue\n  The system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do?\n  I never let the faggot pull the trig first\n  It won't be no American flag over my hearse\n  What's worse, you know they disperse for bucks\n  So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks\n\n  [Armaggedon]\n  This dude, he had the darkest pads\n  Who dressed up in the heart of brash\n  Forever talkin trash\n  How he stacked niggaz to almanac\n  Gunshots to corner four police informants\n  Stood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance\n  He raised the pull of grace, a razor blew his face\n  Force calm the? sere? plus a pack of the? dunga dun? laced with toothpaste\n  Life ain't to be gambled son, you could get trampled\n  by people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel\n  That's what his poppa said whose locked for droppin Akmed\n  in the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed\n  He ain't listen, he became a braindead cocaine head\n  Older Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin? bagualitos?\n  But hey little kids, don't follow these dopes\n\n  [Prospect]\n  What? Uh-huh, yea I can dig that\n  They call me Prospect, I just came back from?\n  Had this track on pause, now I'm back on course\n  It's lost on the Ave, tryin to take my life from the past\n  Get this legal cash,? without dad\n  Kinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity\n  Only if he had one love, trust for liberty\n  this world would be a better place, get what it takes\n  in a race to racism replace the snake in em\n  Bad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate\n  I'm tryin to keep this positive vibe, and from that\n  I generate to the top, like Puffy won't stop\n  I'm mature now, with one knot, from tryin to get locked\n  And to the shorties on the block, tryin to twist 40 tops\n  Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker\n  And stop speedin like a Kawasaki\n  From my life, to your life, I'm touchin everybody Twinz watch me\n\n  Everything we speak is the truth\n  From Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second\n  The whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth\n  Terror Squad\n"},{"id":11099626,"name":"Don Cartagena (Instrumental)","trackName":"Don Cartagena (Instrumental)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":232.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Nobody said it would be easy, ha hah\nNobody wanna handle it\nAS WE PROCEED, TO GIVE YOU WHAT YOU NEED\nNINE-EIGHT, IT'S THE GREAT\n\nNow why the sad face, jealous for fellas that's diamond laced\nTryin to find a place to recline, shine my face\nUnder the sun where it's warm, runnin with Pun til I'm gone\nThat's word is bond on my moms\nThat's the squad motto, got beef we call Rallo\nDame Un Trago, he go to war wit a bottle\nSimple as dat, flip out the mack and cripple a cat (\"take that\")\nRight through your back tissue with any pistol I pack (c'mon)\nLong as niggaz fear us you could never entirely dissapear us\nWe the realest you ever gon' see\nIn all honesty, ain't another brother that's hotter than me\nModesty'll get nowhere, that's why I go there (yeah, yeah)\nLike lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right)\nFive sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me\nUnless you a Bad Boy, and roll with Puff Diddy (eheheheh)\nIt's my city, and everything in it\nAin't a thing rented (c'mon) it's my Benz, if you see me in it (yeah)\nWe invented floodin the watch, and runnin the spots\nThat's why, I'm not a player, I just crush a lot\n\nWhat you thought, we ain't run the streets?\nNow you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\nRollin deep with the Don-Tana\nI put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\nWhat you thought, we ain't run the streets?\nNow you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\nRollin deep with the Don-Tana\nI put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\nBrothers died and mother's cried at wakes, these are The Breaks\nKurtis Blow your head off like Jake (like Jake)\nSo take heed and read between the lines, ain't no cheatin mines\nPlayer haters never wanna see my shine\nUp in the Range or in the Lex Coupe\nRockin a fresh suit with dress shoes, on my way to Les Boo's\nLess choose the life we rather live, on the streets stabbin kids\nor livin mad sweet in lavish cribs\nFix marriages for my kids, six karats, I'm a whiz\n\nExotic tokin parrots on my wrist\nIt ain't shit but for sex, money, and drugs\nTrue thugs with slugs and wrap bodies in rugs\nWhat the fuck, Joe Crack, twist your cap back\nLeave your heart rate flat, once Terror Squad attacks (yea yea yea)\n\nWhat you thought, we ain't run the streets?\nNow you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\nRollin deep with the Don-Tana\nI put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\nWhat you thought, we ain't run the streets?\nNow you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\nRollin deep with the Don-Tana\nI put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\nWhat you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n(Terror Squad, and Bad Boy)\nNow you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n(Joey Crack, Big Pun)\nRollin deep with the Don-Tana\nI put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\nI see you\n\nCan't sleep, ten deep\nYea, uh-huh\nAdios to manana\nTerror Squad, what?\nBad Boy, khanmean?\nJoey Crack, Big Pun\nI see you, I see you\nC'mon, yea, yea, say what say what?\nSay what say what?\nUh-huh\n\nI see you. take that.\nAdios to manana!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Don Cartagena (Instrumental)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 232000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Nobody said it would be easy, ha hah\n  Nobody wanna handle it\n  AS WE PROCEED, TO GIVE YOU WHAT YOU NEED\n  NINE-EIGHT, IT'S THE GREAT\n\n  Now why the sad face, jealous for fellas that's diamond laced\n  Tryin to find a place to recline, shine my face\n  Under the sun where it's warm, runnin with Pun til I'm gone\n  That's word is bond on my moms\n  That's the squad motto, got beef we call Rallo\n  Dame Un Trago, he go to war wit a bottle\n  Simple as dat, flip out the mack and cripple a cat (\"take that\")\n  Right through your back tissue with any pistol I pack (c'mon)\n  Long as niggaz fear us you could never entirely dissapear us\n  We the realest you ever gon' see\n  In all honesty, ain't another brother that's hotter than me\n  Modesty'll get nowhere, that's why I go there (yeah, yeah)\n  Like lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right)\n  Five sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me\n  Unless you a Bad Boy, and roll with Puff Diddy (eheheheh)\n  It's my city, and everything in it\n  Ain't a thing rented (c'mon) it's my Benz, if you see me in it (yeah)\n  We invented floodin the watch, and runnin the spots\n  That's why, I'm not a player, I just crush a lot\n\n  What you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n  Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n  Rollin deep with the Don-Tana\n  I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\n  What you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n  Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n  Rollin deep with the Don-Tana\n  I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\n  Brothers died and mother's cried at wakes, these are The Breaks\n  Kurtis Blow your head off like Jake (like Jake)\n  So take heed and read between the lines, ain't no cheatin mines\n  Player haters never wanna see my shine\n  Up in the Range or in the Lex Coupe\n  Rockin a fresh suit with dress shoes, on my way to Les Boo's\n  Less choose the life we rather live, on the streets stabbin kids\n  or livin mad sweet in lavish cribs\n  Fix marriages for my kids, six karats, I'm a whiz\n\n  Exotic tokin parrots on my wrist\n  It ain't shit but for sex, money, and drugs\n  True thugs with slugs and wrap bodies in rugs\n  What the fuck, Joe Crack, twist your cap back\n  Leave your heart rate flat, once Terror Squad attacks (yea yea yea)\n\n  What you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n  Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n  Rollin deep with the Don-Tana\n  I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\n  What you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n  Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n  Rollin deep with the Don-Tana\n  I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\n  What you thought, we ain't run the streets?\n  (Terror Squad, and Bad Boy)\n  Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep\n  (Joey Crack, Big Pun)\n  Rollin deep with the Don-Tana\n  I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana\n\n  I see you\n\n  Can't sleep, ten deep\n  Yea, uh-huh\n  Adios to manana\n  Terror Squad, what?\n  Bad Boy, khanmean?\n  Joey Crack, Big Pun\n  I see you, I see you\n  C'mon, yea, yea, say what say what?\n  Say what say what?\n  Uh-huh\n\n  I see you. take that.\n  Adios to manana!\n"},{"id":13190425,"name":"Good Times (Feat. Layzie Bone & Krayzie Bone)","trackName":"Good Times (Feat. Layzie Bone & Krayzie Bone)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":226.56,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yea, What's happenin' Bone Thugs n Harmony\nFat Joe, Terror Squad, Mo' Thugs\nThe Good Times nigga, we on top of the world 2x\n\nGood times, good times we can have a good time.\nWe havin' a big celebration\n(We could take some stress off our chest) x2\n\nYo, Check my philosophy - Happiness ain't all about monopoly\nI put aside the guns & robberies, see good guys copyin' me\nThe good times is here, rainy days is clear\nYou wanna go where everybody knows your name like \"Cheers\"\nWhere problems is all the same and we got stories to share\nWhere you don't have to look for joy in a bottle of beer\nSee what I'm sayin. Stop feelin' sorry for yourself\nBesides, those shots of Jack Heed's bad for your health\nUnderstand tough people last, tough times don't\nSome get up off they ass, and nigga, some just won't\nTake the bad with the good, cuz the good ain't far\nThis is the stuff dreams are made of - shoot for the stars\nThe good times\n\nGood times, good times we can have a good time.\nWe havin' a big celebration\n(We could take some stress off our chest)\n\nBig Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\nWe havin' a big celebration\nCelebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\nHey we havin' a celebration\n\nHavin' a wonderful day\nRememberin' the good times\nAnd the niggas who ain't here for the celebration\nWe roll up a blunt, and pour out the liquor\nWhateva you want, we got it\nIt's probably in there, plenty reefer\nSmoke is blowin' in the wind yeah\nJust inhale, exhale...\nFeel it whateva your problem is, it won't be one no more\nAnd if you're laid off\nSit down and take a load off\nYou deserve it, fuck what you heard, fuck the world\nAnd let the Buddah soothe ya, ooh ya\nBetter not let the quicker system \"Boo\" ya\nKrayzie makes the world. I thenk God for my good times\n\nGood times, good times we can have a good time.\nWe havin' a big celebration\n(We could take some stress off our chest)\n\nBig Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\nWe havin' a big celebration\nCelebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\nHey we havin' a celebration\n\nYeah, uh, Now I'm 25, and It's a brand new scene\nI'm makin' rap pits straight flossin' on the TV screen\nKnow wha' I mean, life's sweet to me\nIn times we used to front, now speak to me\nI'm feelin' all right, keepin' them girls happy all night\nBaby hold tight, when Joey takes you for a long ride\nWhat was once a dream is now reality\nAnd I'm glad I never listened to haters thet said it'd never be\nRemember me. The fat kid from Trinity\nWho was once a public enemy is now a loved celebrity\nIf Joe could do it, It could happen to you\nSet goals, and keep your weight up\nAnd good times'll come through. What. [what, what]\n\nGood times, good times we can have a good time.\nWe havin' a big celebration\n(We could take some stress off our chest)\n\nBig Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\nWe havin' a big celebration\nCelebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\nHey we havin' a celebration","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Good Times (Feat. Layzie Bone & Krayzie Bone)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 226560\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yea, What's happenin' Bone Thugs n Harmony\n  Fat Joe, Terror Squad, Mo' Thugs\n  The Good Times nigga, we on top of the world 2x\n\n  Good times, good times we can have a good time.\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  (We could take some stress off our chest) x2\n\n  Yo, Check my philosophy - Happiness ain't all about monopoly\n  I put aside the guns & robberies, see good guys copyin' me\n  The good times is here, rainy days is clear\n  You wanna go where everybody knows your name like \"Cheers\"\n  Where problems is all the same and we got stories to share\n  Where you don't have to look for joy in a bottle of beer\n  See what I'm sayin. Stop feelin' sorry for yourself\n  Besides, those shots of Jack Heed's bad for your health\n  Understand tough people last, tough times don't\n  Some get up off they ass, and nigga, some just won't\n  Take the bad with the good, cuz the good ain't far\n  This is the stuff dreams are made of - shoot for the stars\n  The good times\n\n  Good times, good times we can have a good time.\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  (We could take some stress off our chest)\n\n  Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  Celebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\n  Hey we havin' a celebration\n\n  Havin' a wonderful day\n  Rememberin' the good times\n  And the niggas who ain't here for the celebration\n  We roll up a blunt, and pour out the liquor\n  Whateva you want, we got it\n  It's probably in there, plenty reefer\n  Smoke is blowin' in the wind yeah\n  Just inhale, exhale...\n  Feel it whateva your problem is, it won't be one no more\n  And if you're laid off\n  Sit down and take a load off\n  You deserve it, fuck what you heard, fuck the world\n  And let the Buddah soothe ya, ooh ya\n  Better not let the quicker system \"Boo\" ya\n  Krayzie makes the world. I thenk God for my good times\n\n  Good times, good times we can have a good time.\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  (We could take some stress off our chest)\n\n  Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  Celebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\n  Hey we havin' a celebration\n\n  Yeah, uh, Now I'm 25, and It's a brand new scene\n  I'm makin' rap pits straight flossin' on the TV screen\n  Know wha' I mean, life's sweet to me\n  In times we used to front, now speak to me\n  I'm feelin' all right, keepin' them girls happy all night\n  Baby hold tight, when Joey takes you for a long ride\n  What was once a dream is now reality\n  And I'm glad I never listened to haters thet said it'd never be\n  Remember me. The fat kid from Trinity\n  Who was once a public enemy is now a loved celebrity\n  If Joe could do it, It could happen to you\n  Set goals, and keep your weight up\n  And good times'll come through. What. [what, what]\n\n  Good times, good times we can have a good time.\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  (We could take some stress off our chest)\n\n  Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration\n  We havin' a big celebration\n  Celebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration\n  Hey we havin' a celebration\n"},{"id":13167121,"name":"My World (Feat. Big Punisher)","trackName":"My World (Feat. Big Punisher)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":237.56,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, Yeah\nYeah, Yeah\nUh, Lotta money in here\nUh, Terror Squad\nNow and forever\nTop of the world, Tun\nYeah, uh\nYeah, uh\n\nThey call me Joey Crack my name'll never be forgotten\nlivin' in the NY city thats rotten\nniggas on the block still screamin' and plottin'\nWonderin' if my squad gon stop bubblin'\nBut we not cuz we all still shinin'\nYou average, We floss four karat diamonds\nLayin' up in the plushes suite\nWit the thuggish freaks\nShe love to eat plus bust the heat\nWe touch the streets wit the same principles\nEveryday gotta get this cash know it makes sense to you\nJoe Crack one in a million\nGet cash from drug deals\nBut still keep the weapons concealed\nbuild wit the gods\ntodays madd fast cars\nwho copped what and got shot comin' out the bar\nMy repitore is far beyond belief\nY'all ain't much to me\nHonestly you can't fuck wit me\n\n(Chorus)-Big Pun\nIt's my life, my money, my world\nMy girls, TS electrify the sky like the 3rd rail\nWant us to fail cuz you on our dick\nBut as long as every song is rich you can't tell me shit\nWe been doin' this since Prince was the bomb\nBefore he changed his name and started making wack songs\nBefore the trigger talk and the heat wit chalk\nwas our last resort and niggas took it to the streets\n\nI live the plush life\nNothing on my wrist but crushed ice\nBumpin' the heist in the GS wit the bug lights\nJust the life that the playa portrays\nLookin' laced in my FJ560's\nIt's many ways that we gon get it\nLook how many years we don did it\ncop land and build a home in it\nThat's all I ever wanted dreamed of\ncreate a mean buzz\nSlick C.R.E.A.M. and show my team love\nYou see us on B.E.T.\nRockin' ice blue suits pardon the jewlery\nIs the same fat kid from the Ave of Trinity\nIt's been around three years since my last LP\nBut it gets no better than this\nconsecutive hits\nYou on some Jealous Ones Envy shit\nconpetitive bitch\nI got my enemies mapped out\nNo doubt\ntake the leer jet to Cali theres a party up at Shaq's house\nYou don't wanna compare counts pull ya stash out\nthe ultraviolet from my ice will make you pass out\nMy niggas force black outs\nshoot up ya skate key\nYou love to hate me\npushin' the dope ass ride doin' a hundred-eighty\n\n(Chorus)-Big Pun\n\n(Ad-lib til end)\nYeah, gon ride for you\nYeah, uh, uh, uh\nGon ride for you\nGon ride for you (Ha, Ha, Ha, Huh)\nYeah, We gon ride for you\nWe gon ride for you\nYeah, We gon ride for you, motherfuckin' gon ride for you\nHa, yeah, Everybody in the struggle\nHold ya head baby, Uh\nYeah, Charli Rock LD, Big Surge, Big Frank, Big O\nHuh, We gon ride for you, best believe I'ma ride for you\nHa, ha, yeah I'm gon ride for you, best believe we gon ride for you\nTerror Squad, 9-8, New Millenium\nJoey Crack, realness\n1 (7X's)\nTony Montana, Yeah what","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My World (Feat. Big Punisher)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 237560\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, Yeah\n  Yeah, Yeah\n  Uh, Lotta money in here\n  Uh, Terror Squad\n  Now and forever\n  Top of the world, Tun\n  Yeah, uh\n  Yeah, uh\n\n  They call me Joey Crack my name'll never be forgotten\n  livin' in the NY city thats rotten\n  niggas on the block still screamin' and plottin'\n  Wonderin' if my squad gon stop bubblin'\n  But we not cuz we all still shinin'\n  You average, We floss four karat diamonds\n  Layin' up in the plushes suite\n  Wit the thuggish freaks\n  She love to eat plus bust the heat\n  We touch the streets wit the same principles\n  Everyday gotta get this cash know it makes sense to you\n  Joe Crack one in a million\n  Get cash from drug deals\n  But still keep the weapons concealed\n  build wit the gods\n  todays madd fast cars\n  who copped what and got shot comin' out the bar\n  My repitore is far beyond belief\n  Y'all ain't much to me\n  Honestly you can't fuck wit me\n\n  (Chorus)-Big Pun\n  It's my life, my money, my world\n  My girls, TS electrify the sky like the 3rd rail\n  Want us to fail cuz you on our dick\n  But as long as every song is rich you can't tell me shit\n  We been doin' this since Prince was the bomb\n  Before he changed his name and started making wack songs\n  Before the trigger talk and the heat wit chalk\n  was our last resort and niggas took it to the streets\n\n  I live the plush life\n  Nothing on my wrist but crushed ice\n  Bumpin' the heist in the GS wit the bug lights\n  Just the life that the playa portrays\n  Lookin' laced in my FJ560's\n  It's many ways that we gon get it\n  Look how many years we don did it\n  cop land and build a home in it\n  That's all I ever wanted dreamed of\n  create a mean buzz\n  Slick C.R.E.A.M. and show my team love\n  You see us on B.E.T.\n  Rockin' ice blue suits pardon the jewlery\n  Is the same fat kid from the Ave of Trinity\n  It's been around three years since my last LP\n  But it gets no better than this\n  consecutive hits\n  You on some Jealous Ones Envy shit\n  conpetitive bitch\n  I got my enemies mapped out\n  No doubt\n  take the leer jet to Cali theres a party up at Shaq's house\n  You don't wanna compare counts pull ya stash out\n  the ultraviolet from my ice will make you pass out\n  My niggas force black outs\n  shoot up ya skate key\n  You love to hate me\n  pushin' the dope ass ride doin' a hundred-eighty\n\n  (Chorus)-Big Pun\n\n  (Ad-lib til end)\n  Yeah, gon ride for you\n  Yeah, uh, uh, uh\n  Gon ride for you\n  Gon ride for you (Ha, Ha, Ha, Huh)\n  Yeah, We gon ride for you\n  We gon ride for you\n  Yeah, We gon ride for you, motherfuckin' gon ride for you\n  Ha, yeah, Everybody in the struggle\n  Hold ya head baby, Uh\n  Yeah, Charli Rock LD, Big Surge, Big Frank, Big O\n  Huh, We gon ride for you, best believe I'ma ride for you\n  Ha, ha, yeah I'm gon ride for you, best believe we gon ride for you\n  Terror Squad, 9-8, New Millenium\n  Joey Crack, realness\n  1 (7X's)\n  Tony Montana, Yeah what\n"},{"id":13118022,"name":"My Prerogative (Feat. Armageddon)","trackName":"My Prerogative (Feat. Armageddon)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":244.573333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Armageddon]\nYo, yea yea\nT.S., T.S.\nArmageddon, Terror Squad\nIt's my world (uhh)\nIt's my world (uhh)\nWhat?\nCheck this out, yo\n\nIt's my life, it's my world, my prerogative\nto push things and chase girls who dress provacative\nTerror Squad lock ice? than Yugoslavians\nRun up in your building bust locks, and pull the lobby in\nFind me in the titty bars, pollyin with Mafians\nGot drunk and did somethin, now I'm hardly in the party and\ncheck the book in my Cardigan, it's sort of like my guardian\nBless you with a halo and wings, on your back origin\nArmageddon bring the gates of heaven and bring the horror in\nBurnin last testaments, sinnin where all the garbage went\nDominant, pull out the nine and spit, murder anonymous\nThe finest bitch couldn't make me make monogamous promises\nFirst? bitch, movin guns out of Providence\nStackin paper like novelists, complicated like calculus\nRaps are marvelous, it's like I been here before\nNiggaz is actin up, but we ain't gettin frisked at the door, uhh\n\nChorus: repeat 2X\n\nIt's my life, it's my world, my prerogative\nto push things and chase girls who dress provacative\nTerror Squad, bottom line is we be rockin it\nThe first stages of Armageddon and ain't no stoppin this\n\nMy beats, my rhymes, join forces and form the hammer lock\nTrample box from Babylon to Camelot I turn sand to rock\nSlim's my man to heart, though he like to keep me amped a lot\nYour girl's ample hot, man I love the way she handle cock\nBlazin since the sample dropped, never will the glamour stop\nClaimin that you're vandal all you seen is roman candles pop\nTurn the hands on clocks and blow you back to your essence\nThen I'll go back in time and stomp your ass back to the present\nPackin the Wesson, actin unpleasant, Terror Squad shot on your presence\nWe handle our blessings, just lay us where the baddest is resting\nTook this rap game, molded and mastered it\nBlast my shit, this song shames, any records played after it\nBag the fattest whips with passengers that'll flip\nand piss on your body after blowin your lungs out the back of it\nActivists with guns, bring forth my arrival\nArmageddon's now, forget about the words in the Bible\n\nChorus 2X","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: My Prerogative (Feat. Armageddon)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 244573\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Armageddon]\n  Yo, yea yea\n  T.S., T.S.\n  Armageddon, Terror Squad\n  It's my world (uhh)\n  It's my world (uhh)\n  What?\n  Check this out, yo\n\n  It's my life, it's my world, my prerogative\n  to push things and chase girls who dress provacative\n  Terror Squad lock ice? than Yugoslavians\n  Run up in your building bust locks, and pull the lobby in\n  Find me in the titty bars, pollyin with Mafians\n  Got drunk and did somethin, now I'm hardly in the party and\n  check the book in my Cardigan, it's sort of like my guardian\n  Bless you with a halo and wings, on your back origin\n  Armageddon bring the gates of heaven and bring the horror in\n  Burnin last testaments, sinnin where all the garbage went\n  Dominant, pull out the nine and spit, murder anonymous\n  The finest bitch couldn't make me make monogamous promises\n  First? bitch, movin guns out of Providence\n  Stackin paper like novelists, complicated like calculus\n  Raps are marvelous, it's like I been here before\n  Niggaz is actin up, but we ain't gettin frisked at the door, uhh\n\n  Chorus: repeat 2X\n\n  It's my life, it's my world, my prerogative\n  to push things and chase girls who dress provacative\n  Terror Squad, bottom line is we be rockin it\n  The first stages of Armageddon and ain't no stoppin this\n\n  My beats, my rhymes, join forces and form the hammer lock\n  Trample box from Babylon to Camelot I turn sand to rock\n  Slim's my man to heart, though he like to keep me amped a lot\n  Your girl's ample hot, man I love the way she handle cock\n  Blazin since the sample dropped, never will the glamour stop\n  Claimin that you're vandal all you seen is roman candles pop\n  Turn the hands on clocks and blow you back to your essence\n  Then I'll go back in time and stomp your ass back to the present\n  Packin the Wesson, actin unpleasant, Terror Squad shot on your presence\n  We handle our blessings, just lay us where the baddest is resting\n  Took this rap game, molded and mastered it\n  Blast my shit, this song shames, any records played after it\n  Bag the fattest whips with passengers that'll flip\n  and piss on your body after blowin your lungs out the back of it\n  Activists with guns, bring forth my arrival\n  Armageddon's now, forget about the words in the Bible\n\n  Chorus 2X\n"},{"id":13132987,"name":"Bet Ya Man Can't (Triz) (Feat. Big Punisher, Cuban Link & Triple Seis)","trackName":"Bet Ya Man Can't (Triz) (Feat. Big Punisher, Cuban Link & Triple Seis)","artistName":"Fat Joe","albumName":"Don Cartagena / John Blaze","duration":301.16,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Blam!\nBang bang baby!\nYeah, Terror Squad style\nTrizzie, check it out now\n\nYo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor\nSo who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba?\nWe do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes\nSayin' \"Mami's out\" like Sugar Ray\n'Cause Cuban Link don't play miss, I flip and do some strange (shit)\nWitchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it\nI get you naked like I'm mystic, 'cause this (dick) is\nThick as a brick, raw with big (balls) that bend it\nNow let's get physical, my jiggable pie\nLet this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs\nI satisfy like a Snickers bar, 'cause I'm the bigger bar\nThat'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car\nMy repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women\nHittin' more skins than Alec Baldwin\nWhen you're fallin in love and you can't get up\nNow check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up\n\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\nParadin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence\nPoppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence\nWord up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy\nBe like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?'\nWhile your girl watch me, you're busy drunk pussy\nWanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh\nI got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams\nMakin' the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams\nIt might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk\nBut I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court\nWhen we talk, the whole world listen\nTurn your back to T.S. for one second and find your girl missin'\n\nBaby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla\nWe can party 'til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada\nWord to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana\nI'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra\nCool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot\nBoo-yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo-wops\nSuscia! Show me your dirty dance\nThe way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads\n\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\nYo, official like it in you like, Keith Murray\nBury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary\nI'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me?\nPass me those (ass) cheeks and I'll bring you joy like Blackstreet\nIn the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real\nWhat the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami?\nCome and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani\n\nOhh mami, you comin' home with me\nAll night in my tub drinkin Hennessey\nGettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her\nWhen I rise up, inside her\nYippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her\nStraight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib\nPun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is\nSoon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz\n\nTriz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz (okay!)\n\nSince ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\nHe can't work the middle, cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\nBet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best bana!)\n\nBet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\nI make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\nBet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\nHe can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\nBet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\nI make you scream papa, adios mama!","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.21] Blam!\n[00:02.57] Bang bang baby!\n[00:04.78] Yeah, Terror Squad style\n[00:07.56] Trizzie, check it out now\n[00:09.15] Yo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor\n[00:12.33] So who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba?\n[00:15.34] We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes\n[00:18.30] Sayin' \"Mami's out\" like Sugar Ray\n[00:20.38] 'Cause Cuban Link don't play miss, I flip and do some strange (shit)\n[00:23.14] Witchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it\n[00:25.59] I get you naked like I'm mystic, 'cause this (dick) is\n[00:27.93] Thick as a brick, raw with big (balls) that bend it\n[00:30.28] Now let's get physical, my jiggable pie\n[00:32.61] Let this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs\n[00:35.66] I satisfy like a Snickers bar, 'cause I'm the bigger bar\n[00:38.35] That'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car\n[00:40.66] My repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women\n[00:43.62] Hittin' more skins than Alec Baldwin\n[00:45.35] When you're fallin in love and you can't get up\n[00:47.63] Now check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up\n[00:50.62] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[00:52.54] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[00:55.30] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[00:57.70] I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n[01:00.41] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[01:02.42] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[01:05.44] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[01:07.49] I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n[01:09.98] Paradin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence\n[01:12.77] Poppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence\n[01:15.56] Word up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy\n[01:18.30] Be like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?'\n[01:20.33] While your girl watch me, you're busy drunk pussy\n[01:22.94] Wanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh\n[01:25.66] I got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams\n[01:28.89] Makin' the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams\n[01:31.08] It might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk\n[01:33.50] But I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court\n[01:36.09] When we talk, the whole world listen\n[01:38.46] Turn your back to T.S. for one second and find your girl missin'\n[01:41.14] Baby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla\n[01:43.49] We can party 'til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada\n[01:46.39] Word to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana\n[01:48.63] I'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra\n[01:51.30] Cool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot\n[01:53.86] Boo-yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo-wops\n[01:57.19] Suscia! Show me your dirty dance\n[01:58.47] The way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads\n[02:01.29] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[02:03.54] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[02:06.20] Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n[02:08.61] I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n[02:10.69] Yo, official like it in you like, Keith Murray\n[02:13.41] Bury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary\n[02:16.82] I'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me?\n[02:18.90] Pass me those (ass) cheeks and I'll bring you joy like Blackstreet\n[02:21.93] In the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real\n[02:26.45] What the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami?\n[02:29.40] Come and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani\n[02:31.93] Ohh mami, you comin' home with me\n[02:34.22] All night in my tub drinkin Hennessey\n[02:36.55] Gettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her\n[02:39.72] When I rise up, inside her\n[02:41.86] Yippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her\n[02:44.40] Straight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib\n[02:47.09] Pun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is\n[02:49.55] Soon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz\n[02:51.78] Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz (okay!)\n[02:56.79] Since ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n[02:59.45] He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little\n[03:01.84] Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n[03:03.84] I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n[03:06.94] Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n[03:09.14] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[03:12.08] Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n[03:13.94] I make you scream papa (you the best bana!)\n[03:17.01] Bet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n[03:19.17] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[03:22.12] Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n[03:24.52] I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n[03:27.14] Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n[03:29.76] He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n[03:32.27] Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n[03:34.69] I make you scream papa, adios mama!\n[03:37.18] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Bet Ya Man Can't (Triz) (Feat. Big Punisher, Cuban Link & Triple Seis)\n  artist: Fat Joe\n  album: Don Cartagena / John Blaze\n  duration_ms: 301160\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Blam!\n  start_ms: 1210\n  end_ms: 2570\n- text: Bang bang baby!\n  start_ms: 2570\n  end_ms: 4780\n- text: Yeah, Terror Squad style\n  start_ms: 4780\n  end_ms: 7560\n- text: Trizzie, check it out now\n  start_ms: 7560\n  end_ms: 9150\n- text: Yo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor\n  start_ms: 9150\n  end_ms: 12330\n- text: So who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba?\n  start_ms: 12330\n  end_ms: 15340\n- text: We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes\n  start_ms: 15340\n  end_ms: 18300\n- text: Sayin' \"Mami's out\" like Sugar Ray\n  start_ms: 18300\n  end_ms: 20380\n- text: '''Cause Cuban Link don''t play miss, I flip and do some strange (shit)'\n  start_ms: 20380\n  end_ms: 23140\n- text: Witchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it\n  start_ms: 23140\n  end_ms: 25590\n- text: I get you naked like I'm mystic, 'cause this (dick) is\n  start_ms: 25590\n  end_ms: 27930\n- text: Thick as a brick, raw with big (balls) that bend it\n  start_ms: 27930\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: Now let's get physical, my jiggable pie\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 32610\n- text: Let this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs\n  start_ms: 32610\n  end_ms: 35660\n- text: I satisfy like a Snickers bar, 'cause I'm the bigger bar\n  start_ms: 35660\n  end_ms: 38350\n- text: That'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car\n  start_ms: 38350\n  end_ms: 40660\n- text: My repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women\n  start_ms: 40660\n  end_ms: 43620\n- text: Hittin' more skins than Alec Baldwin\n  start_ms: 43620\n  end_ms: 45350\n- text: When you're fallin in love and you can't get up\n  start_ms: 45350\n  end_ms: 47630\n- text: Now check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up\n  start_ms: 47630\n  end_ms: 50620\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 50620\n  end_ms: 52540\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 52540\n  end_ms: 55300\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 55300\n  end_ms: 57700\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n  start_ms: 57700\n  end_ms: 60410\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 60410\n  end_ms: 62420\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 62420\n  end_ms: 65440\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 65440\n  end_ms: 67490\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n  start_ms: 67490\n  end_ms: 69980\n- text: Paradin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence\n  start_ms: 69980\n  end_ms: 72770\n- text: Poppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence\n  start_ms: 72770\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: Word up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78300\n- text: Be like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?'\n  start_ms: 78300\n  end_ms: 80330\n- text: While your girl watch me, you're busy drunk pussy\n  start_ms: 80330\n  end_ms: 82940\n- text: Wanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh\n  start_ms: 82940\n  end_ms: 85660\n- text: I got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams\n  start_ms: 85660\n  end_ms: 88890\n- text: Makin' the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams\n  start_ms: 88890\n  end_ms: 91080\n- text: It might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk\n  start_ms: 91080\n  end_ms: 93500\n- text: But I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court\n  start_ms: 93500\n  end_ms: 96090\n- text: When we talk, the whole world listen\n  start_ms: 96090\n  end_ms: 98460\n- text: Turn your back to T.S. for one second and find your girl missin'\n  start_ms: 98460\n  end_ms: 101140\n- text: Baby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla\n  start_ms: 101140\n  end_ms: 103490\n- text: We can party 'til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada\n  start_ms: 103490\n  end_ms: 106390\n- text: Word to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana\n  start_ms: 106390\n  end_ms: 108630\n- text: I'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra\n  start_ms: 108630\n  end_ms: 111300\n- text: Cool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot\n  start_ms: 111300\n  end_ms: 113860\n- text: Boo-yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo-wops\n  start_ms: 113860\n  end_ms: 117190\n- text: Suscia! Show me your dirty dance\n  start_ms: 117190\n  end_ms: 118470\n- text: The way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads\n  start_ms: 118470\n  end_ms: 121290\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 121290\n  end_ms: 123540\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 123540\n  end_ms: 126200\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  start_ms: 126200\n  end_ms: 128610\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n  start_ms: 128610\n  end_ms: 130690\n- text: Yo, official like it in you like, Keith Murray\n  start_ms: 130690\n  end_ms: 133410\n- text: Bury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary\n  start_ms: 133410\n  end_ms: 136820\n- text: I'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me?\n  start_ms: 136820\n  end_ms: 138900\n- text: Pass me those (ass) cheeks and I'll bring you joy like Blackstreet\n  start_ms: 138900\n  end_ms: 141930\n- text: In the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real\n  start_ms: 141930\n  end_ms: 146450\n- text: What the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami?\n  start_ms: 146450\n  end_ms: 149400\n- text: Come and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani\n  start_ms: 149400\n  end_ms: 151930\n- text: Ohh mami, you comin' home with me\n  start_ms: 151930\n  end_ms: 154220\n- text: All night in my tub drinkin Hennessey\n  start_ms: 154220\n  end_ms: 156550\n- text: Gettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her\n  start_ms: 156550\n  end_ms: 159720\n- text: When I rise up, inside her\n  start_ms: 159720\n  end_ms: 161860\n- text: Yippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her\n  start_ms: 161860\n  end_ms: 164400\n- text: Straight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib\n  start_ms: 164400\n  end_ms: 167090\n- text: Pun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is\n  start_ms: 167090\n  end_ms: 169550\n- text: Soon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz\n  start_ms: 169550\n  end_ms: 171780\n- text: Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz (okay!)\n  start_ms: 171780\n  end_ms: 176790\n- text: Since ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n  start_ms: 176790\n  end_ms: 179450\n- text: He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 179450\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 183840\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n  start_ms: 183840\n  end_ms: 186940\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n  start_ms: 186940\n  end_ms: 189140\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 189140\n  end_ms: 192080\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n  start_ms: 192080\n  end_ms: 193940\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best bana!)\n  start_ms: 193940\n  end_ms: 197010\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n  start_ms: 197010\n  end_ms: 199170\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 199170\n  end_ms: 202120\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n  start_ms: 202120\n  end_ms: 204520\n- text: I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n  start_ms: 204520\n  end_ms: 207140\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n  start_ms: 207140\n  end_ms: 209760\n- text: He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  start_ms: 209760\n  end_ms: 212270\n- text: Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n  start_ms: 212270\n  end_ms: 214690\n- text: I make you scream papa, adios mama!\n  start_ms: 214690\n  end_ms: 217180\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 217180\nplain: |-\n  Blam!\n  Bang bang baby!\n  Yeah, Terror Squad style\n  Trizzie, check it out now\n\n  Yo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor\n  So who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba?\n  We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes\n  Sayin' \"Mami's out\" like Sugar Ray\n  'Cause Cuban Link don't play miss, I flip and do some strange (shit)\n  Witchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it\n  I get you naked like I'm mystic, 'cause this (dick) is\n  Thick as a brick, raw with big (balls) that bend it\n  Now let's get physical, my jiggable pie\n  Let this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs\n  I satisfy like a Snickers bar, 'cause I'm the bigger bar\n  That'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car\n  My repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women\n  Hittin' more skins than Alec Baldwin\n  When you're fallin in love and you can't get up\n  Now check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\n  Paradin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence\n  Poppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence\n  Word up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy\n  Be like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?'\n  While your girl watch me, you're busy drunk pussy\n  Wanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh\n  I got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams\n  Makin' the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams\n  It might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk\n  But I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court\n  When we talk, the whole world listen\n  Turn your back to T.S. for one second and find your girl missin'\n\n  Baby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla\n  We can party 'til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada\n  Word to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana\n  I'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra\n  Cool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot\n  Boo-yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo-wops\n  Suscia! Show me your dirty dance\n  The way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\n  Yo, official like it in you like, Keith Murray\n  Bury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary\n  I'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me?\n  Pass me those (ass) cheeks and I'll bring you joy like Blackstreet\n  In the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real\n  What the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami?\n  Come and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani\n\n  Ohh mami, you comin' home with me\n  All night in my tub drinkin Hennessey\n  Gettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her\n  When I rise up, inside her\n  Yippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her\n  Straight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib\n  Pun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is\n  Soon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz\n\n  Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz, Triz (okay!)\n\n  Since ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n  He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best bana!)\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?)\n  I make you scream papa (you the best dada!)\n\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?)\n  He can't work the middle, 'cause his thing too little\n  Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?)\n  I make you scream papa, adios mama!\n"}]