[{"id":15715128,"name":"Boy Boy","trackName":"Boy Boy","artistName":"G-Unit","albumName":"The Beast Is G Unit","duration":250.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\nKnow what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\nTo all living things around me\nCash rules everything around me\nYour music is unenthusiastic\nMy jewelry glow in the dark\nScorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n20-round clip, curved magazine\nAnd you could leave the Earth over small, little things\nJohn Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\nAnd you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\nSouth side, we outside, niggas kill, son\nThey'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\nWhite sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\nLeft him in the streets, strap in his left hand\nThe thought of even coming around here was a death plan\nAnd if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\nShoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\nSo loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\nWhen shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\nLoad her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\nMy money up when them mills come\nLA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\nWise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\nNigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\nWrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\nFederal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\nFuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\nI show that bitch how to breathe under water\nExcuse moi, French bitches bending over\nSnatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\nSnitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\nFrank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\nThat's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\nRed dot, surgery with the laser\nHave a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\nFo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\nHundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\nRunning your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\nBend back for the I call, nigga, huh\nYou pussy niggas think you got nine lives\nI'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\nWith that ice pick I'm a cold killer\nYou tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68] Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n[00:10.47] Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n[00:20.64] To all living things around me\n[00:23.26] Cash rules everything around me\n[00:26.45] Your music is unenthusiastic\n[00:29.04] My jewelry glow in the dark\n[00:31.10] Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n[00:33.76] 20-round clip, curved magazine\n[00:35.92] And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n[00:39.57] John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n[00:42.53] And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n[00:45.08] South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n[00:47.91] They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n[00:51.14] White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n[00:54.32] Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n[00:57.41] The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n[01:00.66] And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n[01:03.56] Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n[01:06.56] So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n[01:09.51] When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n[01:13.07] Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n[01:16.42] (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n[01:21.39] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:24.43] When your mouth to be shooting\n[01:25.72] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[01:27.87] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:29.99] You get caught without that Ruger\n[01:31.90] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[01:35.01] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:37.22] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[01:41.22] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:44.20] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[01:47.69] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:50.26] My money up when them mills come\n[01:53.16] LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n[01:57.54] Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n[02:02.31] Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n[02:05.97] Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n[02:09.01] Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n[02:12.63] Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n[02:16.04] I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n[02:19.24] Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n[02:22.81] Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n[02:26.15] Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[02:28.88] [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n[02:32.03] Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n[02:36.66] That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n[02:41.25] Red dot, surgery with the laser\n[02:43.99] Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n[02:47.12] Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n[02:50.36] Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n[02:53.57] Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n[02:57.45] Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n[03:00.06] You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n[03:03.20] I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n[03:06.97] With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n[03:09.33] You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n[03:16.00] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:19.57] When your mouth to be shooting\n[03:21.55] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[03:23.52] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:25.80] You get caught without that Ruger\n[03:27.85] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[03:30.41] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:32.97] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[03:36.51] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:39.46] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[03:42.48] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:48.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Boy Boy\n  artist: G-Unit\n  album: The Beast Is G Unit\n  duration_ms: 250000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 10470\n- text: Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n  start_ms: 10470\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: To all living things around me\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Cash rules everything around me\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 26450\n- text: Your music is unenthusiastic\n  start_ms: 26450\n  end_ms: 29040\n- text: My jewelry glow in the dark\n  start_ms: 29040\n  end_ms: 31100\n- text: Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  start_ms: 31100\n  end_ms: 33760\n- text: 20-round clip, curved magazine\n  start_ms: 33760\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42530\n- text: And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  start_ms: 42530\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 51140\n- text: White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  start_ms: 51140\n  end_ms: 54320\n- text: Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  start_ms: 54320\n  end_ms: 57410\n- text: The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  start_ms: 57410\n  end_ms: 60660\n- text: And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  start_ms: 60660\n  end_ms: 63560\n- text: Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  start_ms: 63560\n  end_ms: 66560\n- text: So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  start_ms: 66560\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 73070\n- text: Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  start_ms: 73070\n  end_ms: 76420\n- text: (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n  start_ms: 76420\n  end_ms: 81390\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 81390\n  end_ms: 84430\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 84430\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 91900\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 91900\n  end_ms: 95010\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 95010\n  end_ms: 97220\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 97220\n  end_ms: 101220\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 101220\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 107690\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 107690\n  end_ms: 110260\n- text: My money up when them mills come\n  start_ms: 110260\n  end_ms: 113160\n- text: LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  start_ms: 113160\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 122310\n- text: Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  start_ms: 122310\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 129010\n- text: Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  start_ms: 129010\n  end_ms: 132630\n- text: Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  start_ms: 132630\n  end_ms: 136040\n- text: I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  start_ms: 136040\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 142810\n- text: Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  start_ms: 142810\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: '[?] why they texting ''bout [?] body'\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 156660\n- text: That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  start_ms: 156660\n  end_ms: 161250\n- text: Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  start_ms: 161250\n  end_ms: 163990\n- text: Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n  start_ms: 163990\n  end_ms: 167120\n- text: Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  start_ms: 167120\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 173570\n- text: Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  start_ms: 173570\n  end_ms: 177450\n- text: Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  start_ms: 177450\n  end_ms: 180060\n- text: You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  start_ms: 180060\n  end_ms: 183200\n- text: I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  start_ms: 183200\n  end_ms: 186970\n- text: With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  start_ms: 186970\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 196000\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 196000\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 201550\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 201550\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212970\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 212970\n  end_ms: 216510\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 216510\n  end_ms: 219460\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 219460\n  end_ms: 222480\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 222480\n  end_ms: 228690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228690\nplain: |-\n  Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\n  To all living things around me\n  Cash rules everything around me\n  Your music is unenthusiastic\n  My jewelry glow in the dark\n  Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  20-round clip, curved magazine\n  And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\n  White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\n  My money up when them mills come\n  LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n  Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\n  Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n"},{"id":9679678,"name":"Boy Boy","trackName":"Boy Boy","artistName":"G‐Unit","albumName":"The Beast Is G Unit","duration":250.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\nKnow what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\nTo all living things around me\nCash rules everything around me\nYour music is unenthusiastic\nMy jewelry glow in the dark\nScorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n20-round clip, curved magazine\nAnd you could leave the Earth over small, little things\nJohn Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\nAnd you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\nSouth side, we outside, niggas kill, son\nThey'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\nWhite sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\nLeft him in the streets, strap in his left hand\nThe thought of even coming around here was a death plan\nAnd if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\nShoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\nSo loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\nWhen shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\nLoad her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\nMy money up when them mills come\nLA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\nWise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\nNigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\nWrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\nFederal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\nFuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\nI show that bitch how to breathe under water\nExcuse moi, French bitches bending over\nSnatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\nSnitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\nFrank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\nThat's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\nRed dot, surgery with the laser\nHave a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\nFo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\nHundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\nRunning your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\nBend back for the I call, nigga, huh\nYou pussy niggas think you got nine lives\nI'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\nWith that ice pick I'm a cold killer\nYou tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68] Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n[00:10.47] Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n[00:20.64] To all living things around me\n[00:23.26] Cash rules everything around me\n[00:26.45] Your music is unenthusiastic\n[00:29.04] My jewelry glow in the dark\n[00:31.10] Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n[00:33.76] 20-round clip, curved magazine\n[00:35.92] And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n[00:39.57] John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n[00:42.53] And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n[00:45.08] South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n[00:47.91] They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n[00:51.14] White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n[00:54.32] Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n[00:57.41] The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n[01:00.66] And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n[01:03.56] Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n[01:06.56] So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n[01:09.51] When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n[01:13.07] Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n[01:16.42] (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n[01:21.39] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:24.43] When your mouth to be shooting\n[01:25.72] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[01:27.87] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:29.99] You get caught without that Ruger\n[01:31.90] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[01:35.01] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:37.22] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[01:41.22] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:44.20] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[01:47.69] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:50.26] My money up when them mills come\n[01:53.16] LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n[01:57.54] Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n[02:02.31] Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n[02:05.97] Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n[02:09.01] Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n[02:12.63] Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n[02:16.04] I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n[02:19.24] Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n[02:22.81] Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n[02:26.15] Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[02:28.88] [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n[02:32.03] Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n[02:36.66] That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n[02:41.25] Red dot, surgery with the laser\n[02:43.99] Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n[02:47.12] Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n[02:50.36] Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n[02:53.57] Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n[02:57.45] Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n[03:00.06] You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n[03:03.20] I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n[03:06.97] With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n[03:09.33] You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n[03:16.00] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:19.57] When your mouth to be shooting\n[03:21.55] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[03:23.52] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:25.80] You get caught without that Ruger\n[03:27.85] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[03:30.41] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:32.97] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[03:36.51] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:39.46] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[03:42.48] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:48.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Boy Boy\n  artist: G‐Unit\n  album: The Beast Is G Unit\n  duration_ms: 250000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 10470\n- text: Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n  start_ms: 10470\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: To all living things around me\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Cash rules everything around me\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 26450\n- text: Your music is unenthusiastic\n  start_ms: 26450\n  end_ms: 29040\n- text: My jewelry glow in the dark\n  start_ms: 29040\n  end_ms: 31100\n- text: Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  start_ms: 31100\n  end_ms: 33760\n- text: 20-round clip, curved magazine\n  start_ms: 33760\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42530\n- text: And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  start_ms: 42530\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 51140\n- text: White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  start_ms: 51140\n  end_ms: 54320\n- text: Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  start_ms: 54320\n  end_ms: 57410\n- text: The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  start_ms: 57410\n  end_ms: 60660\n- text: And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  start_ms: 60660\n  end_ms: 63560\n- text: Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  start_ms: 63560\n  end_ms: 66560\n- text: So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  start_ms: 66560\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 73070\n- text: Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  start_ms: 73070\n  end_ms: 76420\n- text: (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n  start_ms: 76420\n  end_ms: 81390\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 81390\n  end_ms: 84430\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 84430\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 91900\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 91900\n  end_ms: 95010\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 95010\n  end_ms: 97220\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 97220\n  end_ms: 101220\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 101220\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 107690\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 107690\n  end_ms: 110260\n- text: My money up when them mills come\n  start_ms: 110260\n  end_ms: 113160\n- text: LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  start_ms: 113160\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 122310\n- text: Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  start_ms: 122310\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 129010\n- text: Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  start_ms: 129010\n  end_ms: 132630\n- text: Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  start_ms: 132630\n  end_ms: 136040\n- text: I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  start_ms: 136040\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 142810\n- text: Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  start_ms: 142810\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: '[?] why they texting ''bout [?] body'\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 156660\n- text: That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  start_ms: 156660\n  end_ms: 161250\n- text: Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  start_ms: 161250\n  end_ms: 163990\n- text: Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n  start_ms: 163990\n  end_ms: 167120\n- text: Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  start_ms: 167120\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 173570\n- text: Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  start_ms: 173570\n  end_ms: 177450\n- text: Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  start_ms: 177450\n  end_ms: 180060\n- text: You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  start_ms: 180060\n  end_ms: 183200\n- text: I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  start_ms: 183200\n  end_ms: 186970\n- text: With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  start_ms: 186970\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 196000\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 196000\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 201550\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 201550\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212970\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 212970\n  end_ms: 216510\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 216510\n  end_ms: 219460\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 219460\n  end_ms: 222480\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 222480\n  end_ms: 228690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228690\nplain: |-\n  Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\n  To all living things around me\n  Cash rules everything around me\n  Your music is unenthusiastic\n  My jewelry glow in the dark\n  Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  20-round clip, curved magazine\n  And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\n  White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\n  My money up when them mills come\n  LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n  Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\n  Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n"},{"id":23794848,"name":"Boy Boy","trackName":"Boy Boy","artistName":"G-Unit","albumName":"The Beast Is G-Unit (EP)","duration":249.70449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\nKnow what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\nTo all living things around me\nCash rules everything around me\nYour music is unenthusiastic\nMy jewelry glow in the dark\nScorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n20-round clip, curved magazine\nAnd you could leave the Earth over small, little things\nJohn Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\nAnd you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\nSouth side, we outside, niggas kill, son\nThey'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\nWhite sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\nLeft him in the streets, strap in his left hand\nThe thought of even coming around here was a death plan\nAnd if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\nShoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\nSo loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\nWhen shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\nLoad her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\nMy money up when them mills come\nLA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\nWise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\nNigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\nWrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\nFederal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\nFuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\nI show that bitch how to breathe under water\nExcuse moi, French bitches bending over\nSnatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\nSnitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\nFrank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\nThat's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\nRed dot, surgery with the laser\nHave a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\nFo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\nHundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\nRunning your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\nBend back for the I call, nigga, huh\nYou pussy niggas think you got nine lives\nI'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\nWith that ice pick I'm a cold killer\nYou tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68] Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n[00:10.47] Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n[00:20.64] To all living things around me\n[00:23.26] Cash rules everything around me\n[00:26.45] Your music is unenthusiastic\n[00:29.04] My jewelry glow in the dark\n[00:31.10] Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n[00:33.76] 20-round clip, curved magazine\n[00:35.92] And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n[00:39.57] John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n[00:42.53] And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n[00:45.08] South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n[00:47.91] They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n[00:51.14] White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n[00:54.32] Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n[00:57.41] The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n[01:00.66] And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n[01:03.56] Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n[01:06.56] So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n[01:09.51] When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n[01:13.07] Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n[01:16.42] (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n[01:21.39] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:24.43] When your mouth to be shooting\n[01:25.72] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[01:27.87] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:29.99] You get caught without that Ruger\n[01:31.90] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[01:35.01] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:37.22] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[01:41.22] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:44.20] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[01:47.69] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:50.26] My money up when them mills come\n[01:53.16] LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n[01:57.54] Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n[02:02.31] Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n[02:05.97] Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n[02:09.01] Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n[02:12.63] Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n[02:16.04] I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n[02:19.24] Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n[02:22.81] Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n[02:26.15] Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[02:28.88] [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n[02:32.03] Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n[02:36.66] That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n[02:41.25] Red dot, surgery with the laser\n[02:43.99] Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n[02:47.12] Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n[02:50.36] Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n[02:53.57] Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n[02:57.45] Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n[03:00.06] You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n[03:03.20] I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n[03:06.97] With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n[03:09.33] You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n[03:16.00] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:19.57] When your mouth to be shooting\n[03:21.55] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[03:23.52] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:25.80] You get caught without that Ruger\n[03:27.85] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[03:30.41] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:32.97] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[03:36.51] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:39.46] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[03:42.48] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:48.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Boy Boy\n  artist: G-Unit\n  album: The Beast Is G-Unit (EP)\n  duration_ms: 249704\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 10470\n- text: Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n  start_ms: 10470\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: To all living things around me\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Cash rules everything around me\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 26450\n- text: Your music is unenthusiastic\n  start_ms: 26450\n  end_ms: 29040\n- text: My jewelry glow in the dark\n  start_ms: 29040\n  end_ms: 31100\n- text: Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  start_ms: 31100\n  end_ms: 33760\n- text: 20-round clip, curved magazine\n  start_ms: 33760\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42530\n- text: And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  start_ms: 42530\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 51140\n- text: White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  start_ms: 51140\n  end_ms: 54320\n- text: Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  start_ms: 54320\n  end_ms: 57410\n- text: The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  start_ms: 57410\n  end_ms: 60660\n- text: And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  start_ms: 60660\n  end_ms: 63560\n- text: Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  start_ms: 63560\n  end_ms: 66560\n- text: So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  start_ms: 66560\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 73070\n- text: Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  start_ms: 73070\n  end_ms: 76420\n- text: (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n  start_ms: 76420\n  end_ms: 81390\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 81390\n  end_ms: 84430\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 84430\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 91900\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 91900\n  end_ms: 95010\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 95010\n  end_ms: 97220\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 97220\n  end_ms: 101220\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 101220\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 107690\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 107690\n  end_ms: 110260\n- text: My money up when them mills come\n  start_ms: 110260\n  end_ms: 113160\n- text: LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  start_ms: 113160\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 122310\n- text: Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  start_ms: 122310\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 129010\n- text: Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  start_ms: 129010\n  end_ms: 132630\n- text: Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  start_ms: 132630\n  end_ms: 136040\n- text: I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  start_ms: 136040\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 142810\n- text: Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  start_ms: 142810\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: '[?] why they texting ''bout [?] body'\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 156660\n- text: That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  start_ms: 156660\n  end_ms: 161250\n- text: Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  start_ms: 161250\n  end_ms: 163990\n- text: Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n  start_ms: 163990\n  end_ms: 167120\n- text: Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  start_ms: 167120\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 173570\n- text: Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  start_ms: 173570\n  end_ms: 177450\n- text: Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  start_ms: 177450\n  end_ms: 180060\n- text: You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  start_ms: 180060\n  end_ms: 183200\n- text: I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  start_ms: 183200\n  end_ms: 186970\n- text: With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  start_ms: 186970\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 196000\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 196000\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 201550\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 201550\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212970\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 212970\n  end_ms: 216510\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 216510\n  end_ms: 219460\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 219460\n  end_ms: 222480\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 222480\n  end_ms: 228690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228690\nplain: |-\n  Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\n  To all living things around me\n  Cash rules everything around me\n  Your music is unenthusiastic\n  My jewelry glow in the dark\n  Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  20-round clip, curved magazine\n  And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\n  White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\n  My money up when them mills come\n  LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n  Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\n  Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n"},{"id":33747473,"name":"Boy Boy [Explicit]","trackName":"Boy Boy [Explicit]","artistName":"G-Unit","albumName":"The Beast Is G Unit","duration":249.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\nKnow what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\nTo all living things around me\nCash rules everything around me\nYour music is unenthusiastic\nMy jewelry glow in the dark\nScorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n20-round clip, curved magazine\nAnd you could leave the Earth over small, little things\nJohn Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\nAnd you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\nSouth side, we outside, niggas kill, son\nThey'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\nWhite sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\nLeft him in the streets, strap in his left hand\nThe thought of even coming around here was a death plan\nAnd if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\nShoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\nSo loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\nWhen shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\nLoad her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\nMy money up when them mills come\nLA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\nWise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\nNigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\nWrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\nFederal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\nFuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\nI show that bitch how to breathe under water\nExcuse moi, French bitches bending over\nSnatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\nSnitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\nFrank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\nThat's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\nRed dot, surgery with the laser\nHave a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\nFo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\nHundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\nRunning your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\nBend back for the I call, nigga, huh\nYou pussy niggas think you got nine lives\nI'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\nWith that ice pick I'm a cold killer\nYou tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68] Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n[00:10.47] Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n[00:20.64] To all living things around me\n[00:23.26] Cash rules everything around me\n[00:26.45] Your music is unenthusiastic\n[00:29.04] My jewelry glow in the dark\n[00:31.10] Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n[00:33.76] 20-round clip, curved magazine\n[00:35.92] And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n[00:39.57] John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n[00:42.53] And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n[00:45.08] South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n[00:47.91] They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n[00:51.14] White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n[00:54.32] Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n[00:57.41] The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n[01:00.66] And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n[01:03.56] Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n[01:06.56] So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n[01:09.51] When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n[01:13.07] Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n[01:16.42] (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n[01:21.39] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:24.43] When your mouth to be shooting\n[01:25.72] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[01:27.87] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:29.99] You get caught without that Ruger\n[01:31.90] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[01:35.01] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:37.22] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[01:41.22] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:44.20] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[01:47.69] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:50.26] My money up when them mills come\n[01:53.16] LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n[01:57.54] Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n[02:02.31] Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n[02:05.97] Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n[02:09.01] Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n[02:12.63] Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n[02:16.04] I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n[02:19.24] Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n[02:22.81] Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n[02:26.15] Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[02:28.88] [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n[02:32.03] Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n[02:36.66] That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n[02:41.25] Red dot, surgery with the laser\n[02:43.99] Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n[02:47.12] Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n[02:50.36] Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n[02:53.57] Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n[02:57.45] Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n[03:00.06] You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n[03:03.20] I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n[03:06.97] With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n[03:09.33] You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n[03:16.00] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:19.57] When your mouth to be shooting\n[03:21.55] You find out that we been shooting all along\n[03:23.52] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:25.80] You get caught without that Ruger\n[03:27.85] We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[03:30.41] Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:32.97] Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[03:36.51] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:39.46] Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[03:42.48] Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:48.69] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Boy Boy [Explicit]\n  artist: G-Unit\n  album: The Beast Is G Unit\n  duration_ms: 249000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 10470\n- text: Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n  start_ms: 10470\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: To all living things around me\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Cash rules everything around me\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 26450\n- text: Your music is unenthusiastic\n  start_ms: 26450\n  end_ms: 29040\n- text: My jewelry glow in the dark\n  start_ms: 29040\n  end_ms: 31100\n- text: Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  start_ms: 31100\n  end_ms: 33760\n- text: 20-round clip, curved magazine\n  start_ms: 33760\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42530\n- text: And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  start_ms: 42530\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 51140\n- text: White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  start_ms: 51140\n  end_ms: 54320\n- text: Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  start_ms: 54320\n  end_ms: 57410\n- text: The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  start_ms: 57410\n  end_ms: 60660\n- text: And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  start_ms: 60660\n  end_ms: 63560\n- text: Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  start_ms: 63560\n  end_ms: 66560\n- text: So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  start_ms: 66560\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 73070\n- text: Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  start_ms: 73070\n  end_ms: 76420\n- text: (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n  start_ms: 76420\n  end_ms: 81390\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 81390\n  end_ms: 84430\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 84430\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 91900\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 91900\n  end_ms: 95010\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 95010\n  end_ms: 97220\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 97220\n  end_ms: 101220\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 101220\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 107690\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 107690\n  end_ms: 110260\n- text: My money up when them mills come\n  start_ms: 110260\n  end_ms: 113160\n- text: LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  start_ms: 113160\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 122310\n- text: Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  start_ms: 122310\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 129010\n- text: Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  start_ms: 129010\n  end_ms: 132630\n- text: Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  start_ms: 132630\n  end_ms: 136040\n- text: I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  start_ms: 136040\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 142810\n- text: Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  start_ms: 142810\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: '[?] why they texting ''bout [?] body'\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 156660\n- text: That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  start_ms: 156660\n  end_ms: 161250\n- text: Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  start_ms: 161250\n  end_ms: 163990\n- text: Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n  start_ms: 163990\n  end_ms: 167120\n- text: Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  start_ms: 167120\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 173570\n- text: Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  start_ms: 173570\n  end_ms: 177450\n- text: Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  start_ms: 177450\n  end_ms: 180060\n- text: You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  start_ms: 180060\n  end_ms: 183200\n- text: I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  start_ms: 183200\n  end_ms: 186970\n- text: With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  start_ms: 186970\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 196000\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 196000\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 201550\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 201550\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212970\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 212970\n  end_ms: 216510\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 216510\n  end_ms: 219460\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 219460\n  end_ms: 222480\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 222480\n  end_ms: 228690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228690\nplain: |-\n  Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\n  To all living things around me\n  Cash rules everything around me\n  Your music is unenthusiastic\n  My jewelry glow in the dark\n  Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  20-round clip, curved magazine\n  And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\n  White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\n  My money up when them mills come\n  LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n  Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\n  Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n"},{"id":37526965,"name":"Boy Boy","trackName":"Boy Boy","artistName":"G - Unit","albumName":"The Beauty Of Beast Is G Unit","duration":249.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\nKnow what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\nTo all living things around me\nCash rules everything around me\nYour music is unenthusiastic\nMy jewelry glow in the dark\nScorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n20-round clip, curved magazine\nAnd you could leave the Earth over small, little things\nJohn Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\nAnd you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\nSouth side, we outside, niggas kill, son\nThey'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\nWhite sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\nLeft him in the streets, strap in his left hand\nThe thought of even coming around here was a death plan\nAnd if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\nShoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\nSo loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\nWhen shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\nLoad her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\nMy money up when them mills come\nLA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\nWise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\nNigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\nWrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\nFederal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\nFuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\nI show that bitch how to breathe under water\nExcuse moi, French bitches bending over\nSnatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\nSnitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\nFrank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\nThat's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\nRed dot, surgery with the laser\nHave a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\nFo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\nHundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\nRunning your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\nBend back for the I call, nigga, huh\nYou pussy niggas think you got nine lives\nI'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\nWith that ice pick I'm a cold killer\nYou tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nWhen your mouth to be shooting\nYou find out that we been shooting all along\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nYou get caught without that Ruger\nWe put hot shit through you then we gone\nBoy, boy, boy, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\nBoy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\nBoy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.68]Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n[00:10.47]Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n[00:20.64]To all living things around me\n[00:23.26]Cash rules everything around me\n[00:26.45]Your music is unenthusiastic\n[00:29.04]My jewelry glow in the dark\n[00:31.10]Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n[00:33.76]20-round clip, curved magazine\n[00:35.92]And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n[00:39.57]John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n[00:42.53]And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n[00:45.08]South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n[00:47.91]They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n[00:51.14]White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n[00:54.32]Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n[00:57.41]The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n[01:00.66]And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n[01:03.56]Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n[01:06.56]So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n[01:09.51]When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n[01:13.07]Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n[01:16.42](You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n[01:21.39]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:24.43]When your mouth to be shooting\n[01:25.72]You find out that we been shooting all along\n[01:27.87]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:29.99]You get caught without that Ruger\n[01:31.90]We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[01:35.01]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[01:37.22]Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[01:41.22]Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:44.20]Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[01:47.69]Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[01:50.26]My money up when them mills come\n[01:53.16]LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n[01:57.54]Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n[02:02.31]Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n[02:05.97]Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n[02:09.01]Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n[02:12.63]Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n[02:16.04]I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n[02:19.24]Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n[02:22.81]Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n[02:26.15]Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n[02:28.88][?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n[02:32.03]Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n[02:36.66]That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n[02:41.25]Red dot, surgery with the laser\n[02:43.99]Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n[02:47.12]Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n[02:50.36]Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n[02:53.57]Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n[02:57.45]Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n[03:00.06]You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n[03:03.20]I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n[03:06.97]With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n[03:09.33]You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n[03:16.00]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:19.57]When your mouth to be shooting\n[03:21.55]You find out that we been shooting all along\n[03:23.52]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:25.80]You get caught without that Ruger\n[03:27.85]We put hot shit through you then we gone\n[03:30.41]Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n[03:32.97]Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n[03:36.51]Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:39.46]Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n[03:42.48]Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n[03:48.69]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Boy Boy\n  artist: G - Unit\n  album: The Beauty Of Beast Is G Unit\n  duration_ms: 249104\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  start_ms: 3680\n  end_ms: 10470\n- text: Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n  start_ms: 10470\n  end_ms: 20640\n- text: To all living things around me\n  start_ms: 20640\n  end_ms: 23260\n- text: Cash rules everything around me\n  start_ms: 23260\n  end_ms: 26450\n- text: Your music is unenthusiastic\n  start_ms: 26450\n  end_ms: 29040\n- text: My jewelry glow in the dark\n  start_ms: 29040\n  end_ms: 31100\n- text: Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  start_ms: 31100\n  end_ms: 33760\n- text: 20-round clip, curved magazine\n  start_ms: 33760\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42530\n- text: And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  start_ms: 42530\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47910\n- text: They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n  start_ms: 47910\n  end_ms: 51140\n- text: White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  start_ms: 51140\n  end_ms: 54320\n- text: Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  start_ms: 54320\n  end_ms: 57410\n- text: The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  start_ms: 57410\n  end_ms: 60660\n- text: And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  start_ms: 60660\n  end_ms: 63560\n- text: Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  start_ms: 63560\n  end_ms: 66560\n- text: So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  start_ms: 66560\n  end_ms: 69510\n- text: When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  start_ms: 69510\n  end_ms: 73070\n- text: Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  start_ms: 73070\n  end_ms: 76420\n- text: (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n  start_ms: 76420\n  end_ms: 81390\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 81390\n  end_ms: 84430\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 84430\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 89990\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 89990\n  end_ms: 91900\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 91900\n  end_ms: 95010\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 95010\n  end_ms: 97220\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 97220\n  end_ms: 101220\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 101220\n  end_ms: 104200\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 104200\n  end_ms: 107690\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 107690\n  end_ms: 110260\n- text: My money up when them mills come\n  start_ms: 110260\n  end_ms: 113160\n- text: LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  start_ms: 113160\n  end_ms: 117540\n- text: Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  start_ms: 117540\n  end_ms: 122310\n- text: Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  start_ms: 122310\n  end_ms: 125970\n- text: Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  start_ms: 125970\n  end_ms: 129010\n- text: Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  start_ms: 129010\n  end_ms: 132630\n- text: Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  start_ms: 132630\n  end_ms: 136040\n- text: I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  start_ms: 136040\n  end_ms: 139240\n- text: Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  start_ms: 139240\n  end_ms: 142810\n- text: Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  start_ms: 142810\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 148880\n- text: '[?] why they texting ''bout [?] body'\n  start_ms: 148880\n  end_ms: 152030\n- text: Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  start_ms: 152030\n  end_ms: 156660\n- text: That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  start_ms: 156660\n  end_ms: 161250\n- text: Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  start_ms: 161250\n  end_ms: 163990\n- text: Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n  start_ms: 163990\n  end_ms: 167120\n- text: Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  start_ms: 167120\n  end_ms: 170360\n- text: Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  start_ms: 170360\n  end_ms: 173570\n- text: Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  start_ms: 173570\n  end_ms: 177450\n- text: Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  start_ms: 177450\n  end_ms: 180060\n- text: You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  start_ms: 180060\n  end_ms: 183200\n- text: I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  start_ms: 183200\n  end_ms: 186970\n- text: With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  start_ms: 186970\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 196000\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 196000\n  end_ms: 199570\n- text: When your mouth to be shooting\n  start_ms: 199570\n  end_ms: 201550\n- text: You find out that we been shooting all along\n  start_ms: 201550\n  end_ms: 203520\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 203520\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: You get caught without that Ruger\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 210410\n- text: Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 210410\n  end_ms: 212970\n- text: Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 212970\n  end_ms: 216510\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 216510\n  end_ms: 219460\n- text: Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 219460\n  end_ms: 222480\n- text: Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  start_ms: 222480\n  end_ms: 228690\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228690\nplain: |-\n  Tougher than leather, nigga. I'm tougher than an African kid running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga.\n  Know what I'm saying? Tough. OG now, nigga. Yeah. Yeah\n\n  To all living things around me\n  Cash rules everything around me\n  Your music is unenthusiastic\n  My jewelry glow in the dark\n  Scorpio from Serbia, catch you in traffic\n  20-round clip, curved magazine\n  And you could leave the Earth over small, little things\n  John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing\n  And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring\n  South side, we outside, niggas kill, son\n  They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson\n\n  White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man\n  Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand\n  The thought of even coming around here was a death plan\n  And if a nigga cosign that he a \"yes man\"\n  Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up\n  So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up\n  When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal\n  Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield\n  (You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n\n  My money up when them mills come\n  LA Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son\n  Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's\n  Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze\n  Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning\n  Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in\n  Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your door though\n  I show that bitch how to breathe under water\n  Excuse moi, French bitches bending over\n  Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover\n  Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry\n  [?] why they texting 'bout [?] body\n  Frank Lucas put flowers on bunk graves every Tuesday\n  That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say\n  Red dot, surgery with the laser\n  Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia\n\n  Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's\n  Hundred rounds, drum on the K, that's bongos\n  Running your mouth with deadly convos, I clap like, \"bravo\"\n  Bend back for the I call, nigga, huh\n  You pussy niggas think you got nine lives\n  I'mma make sure I stick you more than nine times\n  With that ice pick I'm a cold killer\n  You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga\n\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  When your mouth to be shooting\n  You find out that we been shooting all along\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  You get caught without that Ruger\n  We put hot shit through you then we gone\n  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n  Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy\n  Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy\n"},{"id":37359796,"name":"Get Ya Boy","trackName":"Get Ya Boy","artistName":"50 Cent","albumName":"G-Unit Radio 10 (Before The Massacre 2050)","duration":122.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Cold, cold, cold\nMm, mm\nKa-ching!\nNigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nYeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\nPimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\nGold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\nYou fuckin' with a psycho\nI write what you like though (yeah)\n\nFull clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\nWestside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\nCold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\nEcstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\nMan, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\nSniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\nMy clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nHaha\nCan't stop it\nI am unstoppable\nYeah!\nI'm changing my name, man, haha\nDon't call me 50 Cent no more\nCall me 50 Interscope Cent\nCurtis Interscope Jackson\nI run this motherfucker\nCan't forget Anton Jackson","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.04]Cold, cold, cold\n[00:04.89]Mm, mm\n[00:08.47]Ka-ching!\n[00:09.89]Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n[00:12.88]Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:16.00]That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[00:19.53]Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[00:22.87]So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:25.46]Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n[00:29.16]Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n[00:32.52]Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n[00:35.84]You fuckin' with a psycho\n[00:37.42]I write what you like though (yeah)\n[00:39.37]Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n[00:42.71]Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n[00:46.25]Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n[00:49.58]'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n[00:52.83]Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n[00:56.29]Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n[00:59.75]Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n[01:02.96]My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n[01:07.11]Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:10.59]That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[01:13.87]Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[01:17.19]So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:22.01]Haha\n[01:24.90]Can't stop it\n[01:27.03]I am unstoppable\n[01:32.39]Yeah!\n[01:34.46]I'm changing my name, man, haha\n[01:38.12]Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n[01:41.93]Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n[01:46.06]Curtis Interscope Jackson\n[01:49.70]I run this motherfucker\n[01:55.91]Can't forget Anton Jackson\n[01:59.84]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Get Ya Boy\n  artist: 50 Cent\n  album: G-Unit Radio 10 (Before The Massacre 2050)\n  duration_ms: 121809\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Cold, cold, cold\n  start_ms: 40\n  end_ms: 4890\n- text: Mm, mm\n  start_ms: 4890\n  end_ms: 8470\n- text: Ka-ching!\n  start_ms: 8470\n  end_ms: 9890\n- text: Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n  start_ms: 9890\n  end_ms: 12880\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 12880\n  end_ms: 16000\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 16000\n  end_ms: 19530\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 19530\n  end_ms: 22870\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 22870\n  end_ms: 25460\n- text: Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  start_ms: 25460\n  end_ms: 29160\n- text: Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  start_ms: 29160\n  end_ms: 32520\n- text: Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  start_ms: 32520\n  end_ms: 35840\n- text: You fuckin' with a psycho\n  start_ms: 35840\n  end_ms: 37420\n- text: I write what you like though (yeah)\n  start_ms: 37420\n  end_ms: 39370\n- text: Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  start_ms: 39370\n  end_ms: 42710\n- text: Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  start_ms: 42710\n  end_ms: 46250\n- text: Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  start_ms: 46250\n  end_ms: 49580\n- text: '''Cause when you starving where I''m from, niggas learn to kill or eat'\n  start_ms: 49580\n  end_ms: 52830\n- text: Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  start_ms: 52830\n  end_ms: 56290\n- text: Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  start_ms: 56290\n  end_ms: 59750\n- text: Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  start_ms: 59750\n  end_ms: 62960\n- text: My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n  start_ms: 62960\n  end_ms: 67110\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 67110\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77190\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 77190\n  end_ms: 82010\n- text: Haha\n  start_ms: 82010\n  end_ms: 84900\n- text: Can't stop it\n  start_ms: 84900\n  end_ms: 87030\n- text: I am unstoppable\n  start_ms: 87030\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: Yeah!\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 94460\n- text: I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  start_ms: 94460\n  end_ms: 98120\n- text: Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  start_ms: 98120\n  end_ms: 101930\n- text: Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  start_ms: 101930\n  end_ms: 106060\n- text: Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  start_ms: 106060\n  end_ms: 109700\n- text: I run this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 109700\n  end_ms: 115910\n- text: Can't forget Anton Jackson\n  start_ms: 115910\n  end_ms: 119840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 119840\nplain: |-\n  Cold, cold, cold\n  Mm, mm\n  Ka-ching!\n  Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  You fuckin' with a psycho\n  I write what you like though (yeah)\n\n  Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\n  Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Haha\n  Can't stop it\n  I am unstoppable\n  Yeah!\n  I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  I run this motherfucker\n  Can't forget Anton Jackson\n"},{"id":37942316,"name":"Get Ya Boy","trackName":"Get Ya Boy","artistName":"50 Cent","albumName":"G Unit Radio 10: 2050 Before The Massacre","duration":122.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Cold, cold, cold\nMm, mm\nKa-ching!\nNigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nYeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\nPimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\nGold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\nYou fuckin' with a psycho\nI write what you like though (yeah)\n\nFull clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\nWestside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\nCold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\nEcstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\nMan, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\nSniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\nMy clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nHaha\nCan't stop it\nI am unstoppable\nYeah!\nI'm changing my name, man, haha\nDon't call me 50 Cent no more\nCall me 50 Interscope Cent\nCurtis Interscope Jackson\nI run this motherfucker\nCan't forget Anton Jackson","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.04]Cold, cold, cold\n[00:04.89]Mm, mm\n[00:08.47]Ka-ching!\n[00:09.89]Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n[00:12.88]Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:16.00]That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[00:19.53]Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[00:22.87]So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:25.46]Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n[00:29.16]Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n[00:32.52]Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n[00:35.84]You fuckin' with a psycho\n[00:37.42]I write what you like though (yeah)\n[00:39.37]Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n[00:42.71]Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n[00:46.25]Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n[00:49.58]'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n[00:52.83]Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n[00:56.29]Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n[00:59.75]Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n[01:02.96]My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n[01:07.11]Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:10.59]That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[01:13.87]Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[01:17.19]So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:22.01]Haha\n[01:24.90]Can't stop it\n[01:27.03]I am unstoppable\n[01:32.39]Yeah!\n[01:34.46]I'm changing my name, man, haha\n[01:38.12]Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n[01:41.93]Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n[01:46.06]Curtis Interscope Jackson\n[01:49.70]I run this motherfucker\n[01:55.91]Can't forget Anton Jackson\n[01:59.84]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Get Ya Boy\n  artist: 50 Cent\n  album: 'G Unit Radio 10: 2050 Before The Massacre'\n  duration_ms: 122000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Cold, cold, cold\n  start_ms: 40\n  end_ms: 4890\n- text: Mm, mm\n  start_ms: 4890\n  end_ms: 8470\n- text: Ka-ching!\n  start_ms: 8470\n  end_ms: 9890\n- text: Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n  start_ms: 9890\n  end_ms: 12880\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 12880\n  end_ms: 16000\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 16000\n  end_ms: 19530\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 19530\n  end_ms: 22870\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 22870\n  end_ms: 25460\n- text: Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  start_ms: 25460\n  end_ms: 29160\n- text: Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  start_ms: 29160\n  end_ms: 32520\n- text: Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  start_ms: 32520\n  end_ms: 35840\n- text: You fuckin' with a psycho\n  start_ms: 35840\n  end_ms: 37420\n- text: I write what you like though (yeah)\n  start_ms: 37420\n  end_ms: 39370\n- text: Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  start_ms: 39370\n  end_ms: 42710\n- text: Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  start_ms: 42710\n  end_ms: 46250\n- text: Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  start_ms: 46250\n  end_ms: 49580\n- text: '''Cause when you starving where I''m from, niggas learn to kill or eat'\n  start_ms: 49580\n  end_ms: 52830\n- text: Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  start_ms: 52830\n  end_ms: 56290\n- text: Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  start_ms: 56290\n  end_ms: 59750\n- text: Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  start_ms: 59750\n  end_ms: 62960\n- text: My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n  start_ms: 62960\n  end_ms: 67110\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 67110\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77190\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 77190\n  end_ms: 82010\n- text: Haha\n  start_ms: 82010\n  end_ms: 84900\n- text: Can't stop it\n  start_ms: 84900\n  end_ms: 87030\n- text: I am unstoppable\n  start_ms: 87030\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: Yeah!\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 94460\n- text: I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  start_ms: 94460\n  end_ms: 98120\n- text: Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  start_ms: 98120\n  end_ms: 101930\n- text: Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  start_ms: 101930\n  end_ms: 106060\n- text: Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  start_ms: 106060\n  end_ms: 109700\n- text: I run this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 109700\n  end_ms: 115910\n- text: Can't forget Anton Jackson\n  start_ms: 115910\n  end_ms: 119840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 119840\nplain: |-\n  Cold, cold, cold\n  Mm, mm\n  Ka-ching!\n  Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  You fuckin' with a psycho\n  I write what you like though (yeah)\n\n  Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\n  Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Haha\n  Can't stop it\n  I am unstoppable\n  Yeah!\n  I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  I run this motherfucker\n  Can't forget Anton Jackson\n"},{"id":37267955,"name":"Get Ya Boy","trackName":"Get Ya Boy","artistName":"50 Cent","albumName":"G-Unit Radio, Part 10: 2050: Before the Massacre","duration":122.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Cold, cold, cold\nMm, mm\nKa-ching!\nNigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nYeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\nPimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\nGold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\nYou fuckin' with a psycho\nI write what you like though (yeah)\n\nFull clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\nWestside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\nCold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\nEcstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\nMan, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\nSniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\nMy clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\nDon't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\nThat 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\nThem hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\nSo don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\nHaha\nCan't stop it\nI am unstoppable\nYeah!\nI'm changing my name, man, haha\nDon't call me 50 Cent no more\nCall me 50 Interscope Cent\nCurtis Interscope Jackson\nI run this motherfucker\nCan't forget Anton Jackson","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.04] Cold, cold, cold\n[00:04.89] Mm, mm\n[00:08.47] Ka-ching!\n[00:09.89] Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n[00:12.88] Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:16.00] That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[00:19.53] Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[00:22.87] So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[00:25.46] Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n[00:29.16] Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n[00:32.52] Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n[00:35.84] You fuckin' with a psycho\n[00:37.42] I write what you like though (yeah)\n[00:39.37] Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n[00:42.71] Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n[00:46.25] Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n[00:49.58] 'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n[00:52.83] Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n[00:56.29] Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n[00:59.75] Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n[01:02.96] My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n[01:07.11] Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:10.59] That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n[01:13.87] Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n[01:17.19] So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n[01:22.01] Haha\n[01:24.90] Can't stop it\n[01:27.03] I am unstoppable\n[01:32.39] Yeah!\n[01:34.46] I'm changing my name, man, haha\n[01:38.12] Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n[01:41.93] Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n[01:46.06] Curtis Interscope Jackson\n[01:49.70] I run this motherfucker\n[01:55.91] Can't forget Anton Jackson\n[01:59.84] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Get Ya Boy\n  artist: 50 Cent\n  album: 'G-Unit Radio, Part 10: 2050: Before the Massacre'\n  duration_ms: 122000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Cold, cold, cold\n  start_ms: 40\n  end_ms: 4890\n- text: Mm, mm\n  start_ms: 4890\n  end_ms: 8470\n- text: Ka-ching!\n  start_ms: 8470\n  end_ms: 9890\n- text: Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n  start_ms: 9890\n  end_ms: 12880\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 12880\n  end_ms: 16000\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 16000\n  end_ms: 19530\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 19530\n  end_ms: 22870\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 22870\n  end_ms: 25460\n- text: Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  start_ms: 25460\n  end_ms: 29160\n- text: Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  start_ms: 29160\n  end_ms: 32520\n- text: Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  start_ms: 32520\n  end_ms: 35840\n- text: You fuckin' with a psycho\n  start_ms: 35840\n  end_ms: 37420\n- text: I write what you like though (yeah)\n  start_ms: 37420\n  end_ms: 39370\n- text: Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  start_ms: 39370\n  end_ms: 42710\n- text: Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  start_ms: 42710\n  end_ms: 46250\n- text: Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  start_ms: 46250\n  end_ms: 49580\n- text: '''Cause when you starving where I''m from, niggas learn to kill or eat'\n  start_ms: 49580\n  end_ms: 52830\n- text: Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  start_ms: 52830\n  end_ms: 56290\n- text: Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  start_ms: 56290\n  end_ms: 59750\n- text: Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  start_ms: 59750\n  end_ms: 62960\n- text: My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n  start_ms: 62960\n  end_ms: 67110\n- text: Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 67110\n  end_ms: 70590\n- text: That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 70590\n  end_ms: 73870\n- text: Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 73870\n  end_ms: 77190\n- text: So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  start_ms: 77190\n  end_ms: 82010\n- text: Haha\n  start_ms: 82010\n  end_ms: 84900\n- text: Can't stop it\n  start_ms: 84900\n  end_ms: 87030\n- text: I am unstoppable\n  start_ms: 87030\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: Yeah!\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 94460\n- text: I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  start_ms: 94460\n  end_ms: 98120\n- text: Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  start_ms: 98120\n  end_ms: 101930\n- text: Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  start_ms: 101930\n  end_ms: 106060\n- text: Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  start_ms: 106060\n  end_ms: 109700\n- text: I run this motherfucker\n  start_ms: 109700\n  end_ms: 115910\n- text: Can't forget Anton Jackson\n  start_ms: 115910\n  end_ms: 119840\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 119840\nplain: |-\n  Cold, cold, cold\n  Mm, mm\n  Ka-ching!\n  Nigga, what you know about it? Yeah!\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Yeah, flow-slow, eyes low, grom the dro, push the blow\n  Pimp the hoes, throw them bows, fancy cars, designer clothes\n  Gold coupe, new Vogues, big diamonds, white gold\n  You fuckin' with a psycho\n  I write what you like though (yeah)\n\n  Full clip, don't trip, Blood, Crip, gangsta shit\n  Westside, Eastside, riders ride, cowards die (woo)\n  Cold world, keep the heat with me when I'm in the street\n  'Cause when you starving where I'm from, niggas learn to kill or eat\n\n  Ecstasy, crystal meth, marijuana, cocaine\n  Man, I got your drug of choice, here's a bundle of heroin\n  Sniff or shoot, G-Unit boots, snorkels and thermos\n  My clientele is superior, when will you learn, yo?\n\n  Don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n  That 40 Cal'll hit ya, boy (boy)\n  Them hollow tips'll split, boy (boy)\n  So don't make me come to get you, boy (boy)\n\n  Haha\n  Can't stop it\n  I am unstoppable\n  Yeah!\n  I'm changing my name, man, haha\n  Don't call me 50 Cent no more\n  Call me 50 Interscope Cent\n  Curtis Interscope Jackson\n  I run this motherfucker\n  Can't forget Anton Jackson\n"},{"id":28891459,"name":"Ride","trackName":"Ride","artistName":"Young Buck","albumName":"G‐Unit Radio, Part 25: Sabrina’s Baby Boy","duration":188.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"It is what it is, Lets ride nigga, Yea!\nWhat you niggas know about, slippin they clips in AK's\nIm talkin bout hittin niggas blocks\n\n(Verse 1)\nIm wipin down my bullets with my bandana hidden behind tips\nThe beef bout to be handled nigga gimme bout 5 minutes\nIm prayin aint no kids out playin today\n'cause i aint tryna see no babies gettin hit with a stray\nSo if ya enemy is hidin home then turn off ya lights\nThen throw this bitch in bar, we gettin out tonight\nI wanna look him in his eyes before he die\nSome niggas get away when the shells start to fly\nWe gonn' make sure anybody out there breathin gonn' be bleedin\nEverybody out there leakin then we leavin\nWe get away, car parked in a dark alley\nJust cut up thru the yard, hop a fence then we at it\nWe off to the next block, catch me if you can\nGunpowder on my shirt and some blood on my hands\nNever thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\nThis here for 50's enemies to make em understand that\n\n(Chorus)\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you can let off ya glock to\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you can let off ya chopper to\n\n(Verse 2)\nClip in the Smith & Wesson\nAnd i done been shot but i aint learn my lesson\nI bought me some band-aids and hand grenades\nAnd i'd pull the pin and throw it where ya family stay\nThis the hood muthaf**ka not Sandro Pay\nYou hear the police sirens all god damn day\nWe huntin for our prey, if we see em we eat em\nAnd f**k the D.A., they aint takin my freedom\nSo when you make this turn, ima let off this thang\nRetaliating on them bitches like Hugh did Kane\nInsane, im the black John Wayne\nWith a chrome Fo-Fo, put a hole in ya frame\nDetectives found em with his watch and his chain\nAnd some money in his pocket, a bullet in his brain\nNever thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\nThis here for Yayo enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n\n(Chorus)\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you let ya fo-five off to\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you let ya 12-gauge off to\n\n(Verse 3)\nI'd be lyin if i say i wasnt nervous the first time\nBut thinkin how they shot my cousin, i just bust mine\nHard people glance, glock under my waist\nThis big fat ass officer aint gonn' win this chase\nIm paranoid but i got away clean\nAnd i dont be havin all them nightmare dreams\nThey say i have no conscience, my heart just cold\n'cause i dont try to squash it, ya boy just roll\nWe hold niggas hostage, ya kid now hosed\nThe news to this game man we play how it goes\nThe feds know my name so i stay on the low\nEvery murder that go down they knockin at my door\nGotta know what you doin and how to shuffle it out\nAnd once the homie go do it he gotta muzzle his mouth\nI never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\nThis here for Banks enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n\n(Chorus)\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you let ya Tec 9 off to\nEven tho we killed one and we aint done yet\nWe ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\nGangsta with it, homie you know how i do\nThis just a lil somethin you let ya .40 Cal off to","syncedLyrics":"[00:06.55] It is what it is, Lets ride nigga, Yea!\n[00:17.79] What you niggas know about, slippin they clips in AK's\n[00:28.05] Im talkin bout hittin niggas blocks\n[00:30.37] (Verse 1)\n[00:30.95] Im wipin down my bullets with my bandana hidden behind tips\n[00:32.86] The beef bout to be handled nigga gimme bout 5 minutes\n[00:35.56] Im prayin aint no kids out playin today\n[00:37.86] 'cause i aint tryna see no babies gettin hit with a stray\n[00:40.56] So if ya enemy is hidin home then turn off ya lights\n[00:43.07] Then throw this bitch in bar, we gettin out tonight\n[00:45.57] I wanna look him in his eyes before he die\n[00:47.85] Some niggas get away when the shells start to fly\n[00:50.18] We gonn' make sure anybody out there breathin gonn' be bleedin\n[00:52.94] Everybody out there leakin then we leavin\n[00:56.03] We get away, car parked in a dark alley\n[00:58.57] Just cut up thru the yard, hop a fence then we at it\n[01:02.13] We off to the next block, catch me if you can\n[01:03.95] Gunpowder on my shirt and some blood on my hands\n[01:06.26] Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n[01:08.75] This here for 50's enemies to make em understand that\n[01:11.29] (Chorus)\n[01:11.76] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[01:14.05] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[01:16.76] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[01:19.24] This just a lil somethin you can let off ya glock to\n[01:21.74] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[01:24.47] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[01:26.96] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[01:29.67] This just a lil somethin you can let off ya chopper to\n[01:32.15] (Verse 2)\n[01:32.65] Clip in the Smith & Wesson\n[01:34.05] And i done been shot but i aint learn my lesson\n[01:36.38] I bought me some band-aids and hand grenades\n[01:38.87] And i'd pull the pin and throw it where ya family stay\n[01:41.36] This the hood muthaf**ka not Sandro Pay\n[01:44.11] You hear the police sirens all god damn day\n[01:46.62] We huntin for our prey, if we see em we eat em\n[01:49.16] And f**k the D.A., they aint takin my freedom\n[01:51.86] So when you make this turn, ima let off this thang\n[01:54.15] Retaliating on them bitches like Hugh did Kane\n[01:57.05] Insane, im the black John Wayne\n[01:59.54] With a chrome Fo-Fo, put a hole in ya frame\n[02:02.07] Detectives found em with his watch and his chain\n[02:04.55] And some money in his pocket, a bullet in his brain\n[02:07.34] Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n[02:09.63] This here for Yayo enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n[02:12.76] (Chorus )\n[02:13.15] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[02:15.47] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[02:18.35] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[02:20.64] This just a lil somethin you let ya fo-five off to\n[02:23.38] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[02:25.91] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[02:28.43] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[02:30.94] This just a lil somethin you let ya 12-gauge off to\n[02:33.43] (Verse 3)\n[02:33.86] I'd be lyin if i say i wasnt nervous the first time\n[02:36.14] But thinkin how they shot my cousin, i just bust mine\n[02:38.88] Hard people glance, glock under my waist\n[02:41.14] This big fat ass officer aint gonn' win this chase\n[02:43.66] Im paranoid but i got away clean\n[02:45.98] And i dont be havin all them nightmare dreams\n[02:48.46] They say i have no conscience, my heart just cold\n[02:50.75] 'cause i dont try to squash it, ya boy just roll\n[02:53.46] We hold niggas hostage, ya kid now hosed\n[02:56.24] The news to this game man we play how it goes\n[02:58.67] The feds know my name so i stay on the low\n[03:01.24] Every murder that go down they knockin at my door\n[03:03.55] Gotta know what you doin and how to shuffle it out\n[03:06.03] And once the homie go do it he gotta muzzle his mouth\n[03:08.73] I never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n[03:11.44] This here for Banks enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n[03:14.82] (Chorus )\n[03:15.04] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[03:17.32] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[03:20.04] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[03:22.33] This just a lil somethin you let ya Tec 9 off to\n[03:25.23] Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n[03:27.77] We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n[03:30.25] Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n[03:32.76] This just a lil somethin you let ya .40 Cal off to\n[03:35.46] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Ride\n  artist: Young Buck\n  album: 'G‐Unit Radio, Part 25: Sabrina’s Baby Boy'\n  duration_ms: 188000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: It is what it is, Lets ride nigga, Yea!\n  start_ms: 6550\n  end_ms: 17790\n- text: What you niggas know about, slippin they clips in AK's\n  start_ms: 17790\n  end_ms: 28050\n- text: Im talkin bout hittin niggas blocks\n  start_ms: 28050\n  end_ms: 30370\n- text: (Verse 1)\n  start_ms: 30370\n  end_ms: 30950\n- text: Im wipin down my bullets with my bandana hidden behind tips\n  start_ms: 30950\n  end_ms: 32860\n- text: The beef bout to be handled nigga gimme bout 5 minutes\n  start_ms: 32860\n  end_ms: 35560\n- text: Im prayin aint no kids out playin today\n  start_ms: 35560\n  end_ms: 37860\n- text: '''cause i aint tryna see no babies gettin hit with a stray'\n  start_ms: 37860\n  end_ms: 40560\n- text: So if ya enemy is hidin home then turn off ya lights\n  start_ms: 40560\n  end_ms: 43070\n- text: Then throw this bitch in bar, we gettin out tonight\n  start_ms: 43070\n  end_ms: 45570\n- text: I wanna look him in his eyes before he die\n  start_ms: 45570\n  end_ms: 47850\n- text: Some niggas get away when the shells start to fly\n  start_ms: 47850\n  end_ms: 50180\n- text: We gonn' make sure anybody out there breathin gonn' be bleedin\n  start_ms: 50180\n  end_ms: 52940\n- text: Everybody out there leakin then we leavin\n  start_ms: 52940\n  end_ms: 56030\n- text: We get away, car parked in a dark alley\n  start_ms: 56030\n  end_ms: 58570\n- text: Just cut up thru the yard, hop a fence then we at it\n  start_ms: 58570\n  end_ms: 62130\n- text: We off to the next block, catch me if you can\n  start_ms: 62130\n  end_ms: 63950\n- text: Gunpowder on my shirt and some blood on my hands\n  start_ms: 63950\n  end_ms: 66260\n- text: Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  start_ms: 66260\n  end_ms: 68750\n- text: This here for 50's enemies to make em understand that\n  start_ms: 68750\n  end_ms: 71290\n- text: (Chorus)\n  start_ms: 71290\n  end_ms: 71760\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 71760\n  end_ms: 74050\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 74050\n  end_ms: 76760\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 76760\n  end_ms: 79240\n- text: This just a lil somethin you can let off ya glock to\n  start_ms: 79240\n  end_ms: 81740\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 81740\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86960\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 86960\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: This just a lil somethin you can let off ya chopper to\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92150\n- text: (Verse 2)\n  start_ms: 92150\n  end_ms: 92650\n- text: Clip in the Smith & Wesson\n  start_ms: 92650\n  end_ms: 94050\n- text: And i done been shot but i aint learn my lesson\n  start_ms: 94050\n  end_ms: 96380\n- text: I bought me some band-aids and hand grenades\n  start_ms: 96380\n  end_ms: 98870\n- text: And i'd pull the pin and throw it where ya family stay\n  start_ms: 98870\n  end_ms: 101360\n- text: This the hood muthaf**ka not Sandro Pay\n  start_ms: 101360\n  end_ms: 104110\n- text: You hear the police sirens all god damn day\n  start_ms: 104110\n  end_ms: 106620\n- text: We huntin for our prey, if we see em we eat em\n  start_ms: 106620\n  end_ms: 109160\n- text: And f**k the D.A., they aint takin my freedom\n  start_ms: 109160\n  end_ms: 111860\n- text: So when you make this turn, ima let off this thang\n  start_ms: 111860\n  end_ms: 114150\n- text: Retaliating on them bitches like Hugh did Kane\n  start_ms: 114150\n  end_ms: 117050\n- text: Insane, im the black John Wayne\n  start_ms: 117050\n  end_ms: 119540\n- text: With a chrome Fo-Fo, put a hole in ya frame\n  start_ms: 119540\n  end_ms: 122070\n- text: Detectives found em with his watch and his chain\n  start_ms: 122070\n  end_ms: 124550\n- text: And some money in his pocket, a bullet in his brain\n  start_ms: 124550\n  end_ms: 127340\n- text: Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  start_ms: 127340\n  end_ms: 129630\n- text: This here for Yayo enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n  start_ms: 129630\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: (Chorus )\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 133150\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 133150\n  end_ms: 135470\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 135470\n  end_ms: 138350\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 138350\n  end_ms: 140640\n- text: This just a lil somethin you let ya fo-five off to\n  start_ms: 140640\n  end_ms: 143380\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 143380\n  end_ms: 145910\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 145910\n  end_ms: 148430\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 148430\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: This just a lil somethin you let ya 12-gauge off to\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153430\n- text: (Verse 3)\n  start_ms: 153430\n  end_ms: 153860\n- text: I'd be lyin if i say i wasnt nervous the first time\n  start_ms: 153860\n  end_ms: 156140\n- text: But thinkin how they shot my cousin, i just bust mine\n  start_ms: 156140\n  end_ms: 158880\n- text: Hard people glance, glock under my waist\n  start_ms: 158880\n  end_ms: 161140\n- text: This big fat ass officer aint gonn' win this chase\n  start_ms: 161140\n  end_ms: 163660\n- text: Im paranoid but i got away clean\n  start_ms: 163660\n  end_ms: 165980\n- text: And i dont be havin all them nightmare dreams\n  start_ms: 165980\n  end_ms: 168460\n- text: They say i have no conscience, my heart just cold\n  start_ms: 168460\n  end_ms: 170750\n- text: '''cause i dont try to squash it, ya boy just roll'\n  start_ms: 170750\n  end_ms: 173460\n- text: We hold niggas hostage, ya kid now hosed\n  start_ms: 173460\n  end_ms: 176240\n- text: The news to this game man we play how it goes\n  start_ms: 176240\n  end_ms: 178670\n- text: The feds know my name so i stay on the low\n  start_ms: 178670\n  end_ms: 181240\n- text: Every murder that go down they knockin at my door\n  start_ms: 181240\n  end_ms: 183550\n- text: Gotta know what you doin and how to shuffle it out\n  start_ms: 183550\n  end_ms: 186030\n- text: And once the homie go do it he gotta muzzle his mouth\n  start_ms: 186030\n  end_ms: 188730\n- text: I never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  start_ms: 188730\n  end_ms: 191440\n- text: This here for Banks enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n  start_ms: 191440\n  end_ms: 194820\n- text: (Chorus )\n  start_ms: 194820\n  end_ms: 195040\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 195040\n  end_ms: 197320\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 197320\n  end_ms: 200040\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 200040\n  end_ms: 202330\n- text: This just a lil somethin you let ya Tec 9 off to\n  start_ms: 202330\n  end_ms: 205230\n- text: Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  start_ms: 205230\n  end_ms: 207770\n- text: We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  start_ms: 207770\n  end_ms: 210250\n- text: Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  start_ms: 210250\n  end_ms: 212760\n- text: This just a lil somethin you let ya .40 Cal off to\n  start_ms: 212760\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 215460\nplain: |-\n  It is what it is, Lets ride nigga, Yea!\n  What you niggas know about, slippin they clips in AK's\n  Im talkin bout hittin niggas blocks\n\n  (Verse 1)\n  Im wipin down my bullets with my bandana hidden behind tips\n  The beef bout to be handled nigga gimme bout 5 minutes\n  Im prayin aint no kids out playin today\n  'cause i aint tryna see no babies gettin hit with a stray\n  So if ya enemy is hidin home then turn off ya lights\n  Then throw this bitch in bar, we gettin out tonight\n  I wanna look him in his eyes before he die\n  Some niggas get away when the shells start to fly\n  We gonn' make sure anybody out there breathin gonn' be bleedin\n  Everybody out there leakin then we leavin\n  We get away, car parked in a dark alley\n  Just cut up thru the yard, hop a fence then we at it\n  We off to the next block, catch me if you can\n  Gunpowder on my shirt and some blood on my hands\n  Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  This here for 50's enemies to make em understand that\n\n  (Chorus)\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you can let off ya glock to\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you can let off ya chopper to\n\n  (Verse 2)\n  Clip in the Smith & Wesson\n  And i done been shot but i aint learn my lesson\n  I bought me some band-aids and hand grenades\n  And i'd pull the pin and throw it where ya family stay\n  This the hood muthaf**ka not Sandro Pay\n  You hear the police sirens all god damn day\n  We huntin for our prey, if we see em we eat em\n  And f**k the D.A., they aint takin my freedom\n  So when you make this turn, ima let off this thang\n  Retaliating on them bitches like Hugh did Kane\n  Insane, im the black John Wayne\n  With a chrome Fo-Fo, put a hole in ya frame\n  Detectives found em with his watch and his chain\n  And some money in his pocket, a bullet in his brain\n  Never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  This here for Yayo enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n\n  (Chorus)\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you let ya fo-five off to\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you let ya 12-gauge off to\n\n  (Verse 3)\n  I'd be lyin if i say i wasnt nervous the first time\n  But thinkin how they shot my cousin, i just bust mine\n  Hard people glance, glock under my waist\n  This big fat ass officer aint gonn' win this chase\n  Im paranoid but i got away clean\n  And i dont be havin all them nightmare dreams\n  They say i have no conscience, my heart just cold\n  'cause i dont try to squash it, ya boy just roll\n  We hold niggas hostage, ya kid now hosed\n  The news to this game man we play how it goes\n  The feds know my name so i stay on the low\n  Every murder that go down they knockin at my door\n  Gotta know what you doin and how to shuffle it out\n  And once the homie go do it he gotta muzzle his mouth\n  I never thought i'd see the day that i'd be killin me a man\n  This here for Banks enemies to make em understand what im sayin is\n\n  (Chorus)\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you let ya Tec 9 off to\n  Even tho we killed one and we aint done yet\n  We ridin on these muthaf**kas soon as the sun set\n  Gangsta with it, homie you know how i do\n  This just a lil somethin you let ya .40 Cal off to\n"},{"id":29322648,"name":"I Still Kill","trackName":"I Still Kill","artistName":"50 Cent feat. Akon","albumName":"G‐Unit Radio, Part 25: Sabrina’s Baby Boy","duration":224.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Oh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\nAin't nuttin change still holla at my homies\nOhh and when I hit the block I still will kill\nAnd I don't want to, nigga but I will if I got to\nKill, if niggas get to fucking around\nIf niggas get to fucking around\n\nYeah... respect come from admiration and fear\nYou can admire me if you could catch one in your wig\nYou see the Testarosa, the toaster's right on my lap\nSo if a nigga get out of line and nigga get clapped\nI got an arsenal, an infantry I'm built for this mentally\nThat's why I'm the general, I do what they pretend to do\nFront on me now nigga I'll be the end of you\nForget your enemies and think of what your friends'll do\nI drop a bag off, then let a mag off\nThe Heckler and Koch'll tear half of your ass off\nI'm not for the games, I'm not for all the playing\nThe hollow tips rain, when I unleash the pain\nGet the message from the lines or get the message from the nine\nPaint a picture with words, you can see when I shine\nPut my back on the wall nigga watch me go for mine\nI let 21 shots off at the same time, YEAH!\n\nDon't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\nAin't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\nAnd when I hit the block I still, will kill!\nAnd I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\nIf niggas get to fuckin' around\n\nYeah... where I'm from death is always in the air homie\nNana love me so you know she say my prayers for me\nI come creeping through the hood wearin teflon\nHit the corners motherfuckers get left on\nNiggas know, if not they better check my background\nTry and stick me I'll fill your back with mac rounds\nAsk Prim' nigga 50 don't back down\nI kick it funky like fiends in the crack house\nCross the line boy I'mma air ya ass out\nScrew your face at me I wanna know what that's 'bout\nNigga I know you ain't mad I done came up\nAnd if you are, fuck you cause I ain't change up\nThe O.G.'s wanna talk but I don't know these niggas\nAnd I ain't did no business wit 'em, I don't owe these niggas\nA minute of my time, I get it cause I grind\nAll across the globe like the world's mine, YEAH!\n\nDon't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\nAin't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\nAnd when I hit the block I still, will kill!\nAnd I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\nIf niggas get to fuckin' around\n\nKonvict\nNow tell me have you ever looked off in the distance\nAnd seen the mac aimin at your head mayne (head mayne)\nBefore you know it life is flashin reminiscin\nAnd your body is drippin and full of lead mayn (lead mayne)\nI done been there (uh-huh) I done copped that (uh-huh)\nIt ain't never been a question I'm bout that (uh-huh)\nDon't go there (uh-huh) you get clapped at (uh-huh)\nAnd if you plan to fuck around and re-route that (uh-huh)\nYou'll never catch me riding around on these streets\nWithout a couple metal pieces under my feet\nFully automatic weapons unloaded will unleash\nStash up under the carpet like a can of sea breeze\n50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\nCause I will kill, dip and hide on these niggas (ohhhh)\n50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\nCause I be long gone like The Ripper, so\n\nDon't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\nAin't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\nAnd when I hit the block I still, will kill!\nAnd I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\nIf niggas get to fuckin' around","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.07] Oh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\n[00:08.09] Ain't nuttin change still holla at my homies\n[00:11.00] Ohh and when I hit the block I still will kill\n[00:14.01] And I don't want to, nigga but I will if I got to\n[00:18.02] Kill, if niggas get to fucking around\n[00:22.02] If niggas get to fucking around\n[00:25.00] Yeah... respect come from admiration and fear\n[00:27.09] You can admire me if you could catch one in your wig\n[00:29.06] You see the Testarosa, the toaster's right on my lap\n[00:32.06] So if a nigga get out of line and nigga get clapped\n[00:35.04] I got an arsenal, an infantry I'm built for this mentally\n[00:38.01] That's why I'm the general, I do what they pretend to do\n[00:40.07] Front on me now nigga I'll be the end of you\n[00:43.01] Forget your enemies and think of what your friends'll do\n[00:46.02] I drop a bag off, then let a mag off\n[00:49.04] The Heckler and Koch'll tear half of your ass off\n[00:51.04] I'm not for the games, I'm not for all the playing\n[00:54.01] The hollow tips rain, when I unleash the pain\n[00:57.05] Get the message from the lines or get the message from the nine\n[00:59.08] Paint a picture with words, you can see when I shine\n[01:02.03] Put my back on the wall nigga watch me go for mine\n[01:05.06] I let 21 shots off at the same time, YEAH!\n[01:08.05] Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n[01:13.09] Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n[01:16.02] And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n[01:20.06] And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n[01:24.07] If niggas get to fuckin' around\n[01:28.05] Yeah... where I'm from death is always in the air homie\n[01:32.06] Nana love me so you know she say my prayers for me\n[01:35.00] I come creeping through the hood wearin teflon\n[01:37.07] Hit the corners motherfuckers get left on\n[01:40.03] Niggas know, if not they better check my background\n[01:43.00] Try and stick me I'll fill your back with mac rounds\n[01:45.07] Ask Prim' nigga 50 don't back down\n[01:48.05] I kick it funky like fiends in the crack house\n[01:51.02] Cross the line boy I'mma air ya ass out\n[01:53.00] Screw your face at me I wanna know what that's 'bout\n[01:56.05] Nigga I know you ain't mad I done came up\n[01:59.01] And if you are, fuck you cause I ain't change up\n[02:02.07] The O.G.'s wanna talk but I don't know these niggas\n[02:05.01] And I ain't did no business wit 'em, I don't owe these niggas\n[02:08.06] A minute of my time, I get it cause I grind\n[02:10.08] All across the globe like the world's mine, YEAH!\n[02:13.09] Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n[02:19.07] Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n[02:22.00] And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n[02:26.03] And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n[02:30.01] If niggas get to fuckin' around\n[02:33.01] Konvict\n[02:39.08] Now tell me have you ever looked off in the distance\n[02:41.00] And seen the mac aimin at your head mayne (head mayne)\n[02:44.05] Before you know it life is flashin reminiscin\n[02:46.05] And your body is drippin and full of lead mayn (lead mayne)\n[02:49.05] I done been there (uh-huh) I done copped that (uh-huh)\n[02:51.05] It ain't never been a question I'm bout that (uh-huh)\n[02:54.08] Don't go there (uh-huh) you get clapped at (uh-huh)\n[02:57.02] And if you plan to fuck around and re-route that (uh-huh)\n[03:00.02] You'll never catch me riding around on these streets\n[03:03.03] Without a couple metal pieces under my feet\n[03:06.08] Fully automatic weapons unloaded will unleash\n[03:08.03] Stash up under the carpet like a can of sea breeze\n[03:11.00] 50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n[03:14.02] Cause I will kill, dip and hide on these niggas (ohhhh)\n[03:16.03] 50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n[03:19.08] Cause I be long gone like The Ripper, so\n[03:21.07] Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n[03:24.05] Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n[03:27.09] And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n[03:30.03] And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n[03:35.07] If niggas get to fuckin' around\n[03:37.36] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I Still Kill\n  artist: 50 Cent feat. Akon\n  album: 'G‐Unit Radio, Part 25: Sabrina’s Baby Boy'\n  duration_ms: 224000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Oh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\n  start_ms: 3070\n  end_ms: 8090\n- text: Ain't nuttin change still holla at my homies\n  start_ms: 8090\n  end_ms: 11000\n- text: Ohh and when I hit the block I still will kill\n  start_ms: 11000\n  end_ms: 14010\n- text: And I don't want to, nigga but I will if I got to\n  start_ms: 14010\n  end_ms: 18020\n- text: Kill, if niggas get to fucking around\n  start_ms: 18020\n  end_ms: 22020\n- text: If niggas get to fucking around\n  start_ms: 22020\n  end_ms: 25000\n- text: Yeah... respect come from admiration and fear\n  start_ms: 25000\n  end_ms: 27090\n- text: You can admire me if you could catch one in your wig\n  start_ms: 27090\n  end_ms: 29060\n- text: You see the Testarosa, the toaster's right on my lap\n  start_ms: 29060\n  end_ms: 32060\n- text: So if a nigga get out of line and nigga get clapped\n  start_ms: 32060\n  end_ms: 35040\n- text: I got an arsenal, an infantry I'm built for this mentally\n  start_ms: 35040\n  end_ms: 38010\n- text: That's why I'm the general, I do what they pretend to do\n  start_ms: 38010\n  end_ms: 40070\n- text: Front on me now nigga I'll be the end of you\n  start_ms: 40070\n  end_ms: 43010\n- text: Forget your enemies and think of what your friends'll do\n  start_ms: 43010\n  end_ms: 46020\n- text: I drop a bag off, then let a mag off\n  start_ms: 46020\n  end_ms: 49040\n- text: The Heckler and Koch'll tear half of your ass off\n  start_ms: 49040\n  end_ms: 51040\n- text: I'm not for the games, I'm not for all the playing\n  start_ms: 51040\n  end_ms: 54010\n- text: The hollow tips rain, when I unleash the pain\n  start_ms: 54010\n  end_ms: 57050\n- text: Get the message from the lines or get the message from the nine\n  start_ms: 57050\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: Paint a picture with words, you can see when I shine\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 62030\n- text: Put my back on the wall nigga watch me go for mine\n  start_ms: 62030\n  end_ms: 65060\n- text: I let 21 shots off at the same time, YEAH!\n  start_ms: 65060\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 73090\n- text: Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  start_ms: 73090\n  end_ms: 76020\n- text: And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  start_ms: 76020\n  end_ms: 80060\n- text: And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  start_ms: 80060\n  end_ms: 84070\n- text: If niggas get to fuckin' around\n  start_ms: 84070\n  end_ms: 88050\n- text: Yeah... where I'm from death is always in the air homie\n  start_ms: 88050\n  end_ms: 92060\n- text: Nana love me so you know she say my prayers for me\n  start_ms: 92060\n  end_ms: 95000\n- text: I come creeping through the hood wearin teflon\n  start_ms: 95000\n  end_ms: 97070\n- text: Hit the corners motherfuckers get left on\n  start_ms: 97070\n  end_ms: 100030\n- text: Niggas know, if not they better check my background\n  start_ms: 100030\n  end_ms: 103000\n- text: Try and stick me I'll fill your back with mac rounds\n  start_ms: 103000\n  end_ms: 105070\n- text: Ask Prim' nigga 50 don't back down\n  start_ms: 105070\n  end_ms: 108050\n- text: I kick it funky like fiends in the crack house\n  start_ms: 108050\n  end_ms: 111020\n- text: Cross the line boy I'mma air ya ass out\n  start_ms: 111020\n  end_ms: 113000\n- text: Screw your face at me I wanna know what that's 'bout\n  start_ms: 113000\n  end_ms: 116050\n- text: Nigga I know you ain't mad I done came up\n  start_ms: 116050\n  end_ms: 119010\n- text: And if you are, fuck you cause I ain't change up\n  start_ms: 119010\n  end_ms: 122070\n- text: The O.G.'s wanna talk but I don't know these niggas\n  start_ms: 122070\n  end_ms: 125010\n- text: And I ain't did no business wit 'em, I don't owe these niggas\n  start_ms: 125010\n  end_ms: 128060\n- text: A minute of my time, I get it cause I grind\n  start_ms: 128060\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: All across the globe like the world's mine, YEAH!\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 133090\n- text: Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  start_ms: 133090\n  end_ms: 139070\n- text: Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  start_ms: 139070\n  end_ms: 142000\n- text: And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  start_ms: 142000\n  end_ms: 146030\n- text: And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  start_ms: 146030\n  end_ms: 150010\n- text: If niggas get to fuckin' around\n  start_ms: 150010\n  end_ms: 153010\n- text: Konvict\n  start_ms: 153010\n  end_ms: 159080\n- text: Now tell me have you ever looked off in the distance\n  start_ms: 159080\n  end_ms: 161000\n- text: And seen the mac aimin at your head mayne (head mayne)\n  start_ms: 161000\n  end_ms: 164050\n- text: Before you know it life is flashin reminiscin\n  start_ms: 164050\n  end_ms: 166050\n- text: And your body is drippin and full of lead mayn (lead mayne)\n  start_ms: 166050\n  end_ms: 169050\n- text: I done been there (uh-huh) I done copped that (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 169050\n  end_ms: 171050\n- text: It ain't never been a question I'm bout that (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 171050\n  end_ms: 174080\n- text: Don't go there (uh-huh) you get clapped at (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 174080\n  end_ms: 177020\n- text: And if you plan to fuck around and re-route that (uh-huh)\n  start_ms: 177020\n  end_ms: 180020\n- text: You'll never catch me riding around on these streets\n  start_ms: 180020\n  end_ms: 183030\n- text: Without a couple metal pieces under my feet\n  start_ms: 183030\n  end_ms: 186080\n- text: Fully automatic weapons unloaded will unleash\n  start_ms: 186080\n  end_ms: 188030\n- text: Stash up under the carpet like a can of sea breeze\n  start_ms: 188030\n  end_ms: 191000\n- text: 50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n  start_ms: 191000\n  end_ms: 194020\n- text: Cause I will kill, dip and hide on these niggas (ohhhh)\n  start_ms: 194020\n  end_ms: 196030\n- text: 50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n  start_ms: 196030\n  end_ms: 199080\n- text: Cause I be long gone like The Ripper, so\n  start_ms: 199080\n  end_ms: 201070\n- text: Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  start_ms: 201070\n  end_ms: 204050\n- text: Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  start_ms: 204050\n  end_ms: 207090\n- text: And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  start_ms: 207090\n  end_ms: 210030\n- text: And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  start_ms: 210030\n  end_ms: 215070\n- text: If niggas get to fuckin' around\n  start_ms: 215070\n  end_ms: 217360\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 217360\nplain: |-\n  Oh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\n  Ain't nuttin change still holla at my homies\n  Ohh and when I hit the block I still will kill\n  And I don't want to, nigga but I will if I got to\n  Kill, if niggas get to fucking around\n  If niggas get to fucking around\n\n  Yeah... respect come from admiration and fear\n  You can admire me if you could catch one in your wig\n  You see the Testarosa, the toaster's right on my lap\n  So if a nigga get out of line and nigga get clapped\n  I got an arsenal, an infantry I'm built for this mentally\n  That's why I'm the general, I do what they pretend to do\n  Front on me now nigga I'll be the end of you\n  Forget your enemies and think of what your friends'll do\n  I drop a bag off, then let a mag off\n  The Heckler and Koch'll tear half of your ass off\n  I'm not for the games, I'm not for all the playing\n  The hollow tips rain, when I unleash the pain\n  Get the message from the lines or get the message from the nine\n  Paint a picture with words, you can see when I shine\n  Put my back on the wall nigga watch me go for mine\n  I let 21 shots off at the same time, YEAH!\n\n  Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  If niggas get to fuckin' around\n\n  Yeah... where I'm from death is always in the air homie\n  Nana love me so you know she say my prayers for me\n  I come creeping through the hood wearin teflon\n  Hit the corners motherfuckers get left on\n  Niggas know, if not they better check my background\n  Try and stick me I'll fill your back with mac rounds\n  Ask Prim' nigga 50 don't back down\n  I kick it funky like fiends in the crack house\n  Cross the line boy I'mma air ya ass out\n  Screw your face at me I wanna know what that's 'bout\n  Nigga I know you ain't mad I done came up\n  And if you are, fuck you cause I ain't change up\n  The O.G.'s wanna talk but I don't know these niggas\n  And I ain't did no business wit 'em, I don't owe these niggas\n  A minute of my time, I get it cause I grind\n  All across the globe like the world's mine, YEAH!\n\n  Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  If niggas get to fuckin' around\n\n  Konvict\n  Now tell me have you ever looked off in the distance\n  And seen the mac aimin at your head mayne (head mayne)\n  Before you know it life is flashin reminiscin\n  And your body is drippin and full of lead mayn (lead mayne)\n  I done been there (uh-huh) I done copped that (uh-huh)\n  It ain't never been a question I'm bout that (uh-huh)\n  Don't go there (uh-huh) you get clapped at (uh-huh)\n  And if you plan to fuck around and re-route that (uh-huh)\n  You'll never catch me riding around on these streets\n  Without a couple metal pieces under my feet\n  Fully automatic weapons unloaded will unleash\n  Stash up under the carpet like a can of sea breeze\n  50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n  Cause I will kill, dip and hide on these niggas (ohhhh)\n  50 don't make me ride on these niggas (ay)\n  Cause I be long gone like The Ripper, so\n\n  Don't even look at me wrong when I come through the 'hood\n  Ain't nothin' changed, still holla at my homies (oh)\n  And when I hit the block I still, will kill!\n  And I don't want, nigga but I will if I got to, kill!\n  If niggas get to fuckin' around\n"}]