[{"id":38033192,"name":"Magnum Force","trackName":"Magnum Force","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force (Magnum Force)","duration":314.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"/All together\n\nThis goes out to my magnum force\nWhen we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\n\nYo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\nFrom here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\nBut can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\nMan you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\nMan I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\nSqueezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\nWhen the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\nSee we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\nSo when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\nYour fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\nYou fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\nThe shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\nYou'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\nInternational irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\nEnough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\nPeep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\nWhen the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\nV.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\nEasin the agony, postponin the misery\nSmoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\nCalculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\nI see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\nEyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\nWith the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\nSo they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\nLight my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\nDrunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\nJamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\nChop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\nHit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\nRegulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\nBitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\nKeep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\nYou see me? don't say shit like pink panther\nYou talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\nGet knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\nDj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\nMakin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\nYou know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\nSo who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\nYou niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\nWhole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\nHalf-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\nTeared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\nDeflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\nTake your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\nSend her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\nMan dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\nCause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\nBut scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\nLike plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\nAiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\nMy triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\nYou think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\nAnd leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\nThis shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\nAll that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\nI can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\nHave crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\nIn this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\nOver jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\nSo when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\nThe straight, dead position when my lead go boom\nEmbeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\nWe move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\nMy rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\nForever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\nYour team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\nThe repz baby, time for action, action\n\n* \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n2x\n\nThrow y'all middle fingers up in the air\nSay, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\nWord is bon jov', oh oh\nWe run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\nNiggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\nCause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\nHehehehe, see\nSlogan is made of force be with me\nNot our fault\nYou can't fuck with that? fuck you all\nWord is bon jov'.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Magnum Force\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force (Magnum Force)\n  duration_ms: 314000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  /All together\n\n  This goes out to my magnum force\n  When we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n\n  Yo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\n  From here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\n  But can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\n  Man you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\n  Man I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\n  Squeezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\n  When the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\n  See we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\n  So when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\n  Your fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\n  You fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\n  The shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\n  You'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\n  International irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\n  Enough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\n  Peep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\n  When the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\n  V.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\n  Easin the agony, postponin the misery\n  Smoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\n  Calculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\n  I see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\n  Eyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\n  With the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\n  So they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\n  Light my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\n  Drunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\n  Jamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\n  Chop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\n  Hit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\n  Regulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\n  Bitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\n  Keep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\n  You see me? don't say shit like pink panther\n  You talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\n  Get knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\n  Dj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\n  Makin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\n  You know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\n  So who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\n  You niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\n  Whole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\n  Half-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\n  Teared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\n  Deflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\n  Take your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\n  Send her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\n  Man dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\n  Cause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\n  But scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\n  Like plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\n  Aiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\n  My triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\n  You think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\n  And leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\n  This shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\n  All that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\n  I can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\n  Have crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\n  In this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\n  Over jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\n  So when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\n  The straight, dead position when my lead go boom\n  Embeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\n  We move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\n  My rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\n  Forever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\n  Your team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\n  The repz baby, time for action, action\n\n  * \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n  2x\n\n  Throw y'all middle fingers up in the air\n  Say, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\n  Word is bon jov', oh oh\n  We run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\n  Niggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\n  Cause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n  Hehehehe, see\n  Slogan is made of force be with me\n  Not our fault\n  You can't fuck with that? fuck you all\n  Word is bon jov'.\n"},{"id":5238467,"name":"Magnum Force","trackName":"Magnum Force","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":315.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"/All together\n\nThis goes out to my magnum force\nWhen we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\n\nYo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\nFrom here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\nBut can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\nMan you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\nMan I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\nSqueezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\nWhen the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\nSee we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\nSo when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\nYour fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\nYou fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\nThe shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\nYou'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\nInternational irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\nEnough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\nPeep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\nWhen the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\nV.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\nEasin the agony, postponin the misery\nSmoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\nCalculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\nI see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\nEyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\nWith the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\nSo they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\nLight my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\nDrunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\nJamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\nChop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\nHit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\nRegulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\nBitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\nKeep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\nYou see me? don't say shit like pink panther\nYou talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\nGet knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\nDj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\nMakin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\nYou know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\nSo who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\nYou niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\nWhole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\nHalf-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\nTeared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\nDeflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\nTake your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\nSend her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\nMan dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\nCause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\nBut scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\nLike plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\nAiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\nMy triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\nYou think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\nAnd leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\nThis shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\nAll that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\nI can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\nHave crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\nIn this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\nOver jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\nSo when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\nThe straight, dead position when my lead go boom\nEmbeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\nWe move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\nMy rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\nForever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\nYour team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\nThe repz baby, time for action, action\n\n* \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n2x\n\nThrow y'all middle fingers up in the air\nSay, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\nWord is bon jov', oh oh\nWe run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\nNiggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\nCause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\nHehehehe, see\nSlogan is made of force be with me\nNot our fault\nYou can't fuck with that? fuck you all\nWord is bon jov'.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Magnum Force\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 315000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  /All together\n\n  This goes out to my magnum force\n  When we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n\n  Yo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\n  From here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\n  But can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\n  Man you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\n  Man I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\n  Squeezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\n  When the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\n  See we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\n  So when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\n  Your fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\n  You fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\n  The shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\n  You'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\n  International irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\n  Enough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\n  Peep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\n  When the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\n  V.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\n  Easin the agony, postponin the misery\n  Smoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\n  Calculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\n  I see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\n  Eyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\n  With the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\n  So they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\n  Light my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\n  Drunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\n  Jamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\n  Chop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\n  Hit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\n  Regulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\n  Bitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\n  Keep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\n  You see me? don't say shit like pink panther\n  You talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\n  Get knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\n  Dj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\n  Makin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\n  You know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\n  So who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\n  You niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\n  Whole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\n  Half-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\n  Teared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\n  Deflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\n  Take your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\n  Send her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\n  Man dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\n  Cause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\n  But scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\n  Like plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\n  Aiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\n  My triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\n  You think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\n  And leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\n  This shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\n  All that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\n  I can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\n  Have crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\n  In this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\n  Over jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\n  So when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\n  The straight, dead position when my lead go boom\n  Embeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\n  We move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\n  My rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\n  Forever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\n  Your team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\n  The repz baby, time for action, action\n\n  * \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n  2x\n\n  Throw y'all middle fingers up in the air\n  Say, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\n  Word is bon jov', oh oh\n  We run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\n  Niggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\n  Cause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n  Hehehehe, see\n  Slogan is made of force be with me\n  Not our fault\n  You can't fuck with that? fuck you all\n  Word is bon jov'.\n"},{"id":5238466,"name":"Magnum Force","trackName":"Magnum Force","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force (Explicit)","duration":315.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"/All together\n\nThis goes out to my magnum force\nWhen we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\n\nYo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\nFrom here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\nBut can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\nMan you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\nMan I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\nSqueezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\nWhen the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\nSee we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\nSo when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\nYour fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\nYou fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\nThe shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\nYou'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\nInternational irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\nEnough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\nPeep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\nWhen the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\nV.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\nEasin the agony, postponin the misery\nSmoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\nCalculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\nI see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\nEyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\nWith the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\nSo they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\nLight my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\nDrunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\nJamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\nChop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\nHit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\nRegulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\nBitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\nKeep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\nYou see me? don't say shit like pink panther\nYou talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\nGet knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\nDj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\nMakin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\nYou know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\nSo who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\nYou niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\nWhole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\nHalf-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\nTeared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\nDeflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\nTake your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\nSend her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\nMan dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\nCause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\nBut scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\nLike plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\nAiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\nMy triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\nYou think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\nAnd leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\nThis shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\nAll that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\nI can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\nHave crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\nIn this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\nOver jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\nSo when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\nThe straight, dead position when my lead go boom\nEmbeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\nWe move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\nMy rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\nForever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\nYour team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\nThe repz baby, time for action, action\n\n* \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n2x\n\nThrow y'all middle fingers up in the air\nSay, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\nWord is bon jov', oh oh\nWe run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\nNiggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\nCause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\nHehehehe, see\nSlogan is made of force be with me\nNot our fault\nYou can't fuck with that? fuck you all\nWord is bon jov'.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Magnum Force\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 315000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  /All together\n\n  This goes out to my magnum force\n  When we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n\n  Yo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\n  From here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\n  But can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\n  Man you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\n  Man I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\n  Squeezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\n  When the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\n  See we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\n  So when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\n  Your fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\n  You fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\n  The shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\n  You'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\n  International irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\n  Enough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\n  Peep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\n  When the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\n  V.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\n  Easin the agony, postponin the misery\n  Smoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\n  Calculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\n  I see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\n  Eyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\n  With the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\n  So they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\n  Light my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\n  Drunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\n  Jamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\n  Chop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\n  Hit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\n  Regulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\n  Bitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\n  Keep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\n  You see me? don't say shit like pink panther\n  You talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\n  Get knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\n  Dj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\n  Makin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\n  You know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\n  So who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\n  You niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\n  Whole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\n  Half-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\n  Teared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\n  Deflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\n  Take your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\n  Send her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\n  Man dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\n  Cause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\n  But scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\n  Like plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\n  Aiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\n  My triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\n  You think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\n  And leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\n  This shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\n  All that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\n  I can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\n  Have crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\n  In this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\n  Over jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\n  So when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\n  The straight, dead position when my lead go boom\n  Embeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\n  We move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\n  My rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\n  Forever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\n  Your team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\n  The repz baby, time for action, action\n\n  * \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n  2x\n\n  Throw y'all middle fingers up in the air\n  Say, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\n  Word is bon jov', oh oh\n  We run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\n  Niggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\n  Cause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n  Hehehehe, see\n  Slogan is made of force be with me\n  Not our fault\n  You can't fuck with that? fuck you all\n  Word is bon jov'.\n"},{"id":25287300,"name":"Magnum Force (feat. The Representativz & Rustee Jux)","trackName":"Magnum Force (feat. The Representativz & Rustee Jux)","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":315.010612,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"/all together\n\nThis goes out to my magnum force\nWhen we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\n\nYo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\nFrom here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\nBut can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\nMan you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\nMan I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\nSqueezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\nWhen the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\nSee we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\nSo when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\nYour fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\nYou fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\nThe shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\nYou'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\nInternational irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\nEnough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\nPeep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\nWhen the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\nV.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\nEasin the agony, postponin the misery\nSmoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\nCalculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\nI see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\nEyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\nWith the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\nSo they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\nLight my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\nDrunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\nJamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\nChop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\nHit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\nRegulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\nBitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\nKeep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\nYou see me? don't say shit like pink panther\nYou talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\nGet knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\nDj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\nMakin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\nYou know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\nSo who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\nYou niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\nWhole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\nHalf-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\nTeared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\nDeflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\nTake your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\nSend her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\nMan dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\nCause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\nBut scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\nLike plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\nAiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\nMy triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\nYou think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\nAnd leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\nThis shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\nAll that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\nI can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\nHave crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\nIn this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\nOver jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\nSo when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\nThe straight, dead position when my lead go boom\nEmbeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\nWe move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\nMy rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\nForever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\nYour team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\nThe repz baby, time for action, action\n\n* \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n2x\n\nThrow y'all middle fingers up in the air\nSay, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\nWord is bon jov', oh oh\nWe run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\nNiggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\nCause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\nHehehehe, see\nSlogan is made of force be with me\nNot our fault\nYou can't fuck with that? fuck you all\nWord is bon jov'.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Magnum Force (feat. The Representativz & Rustee Jux)\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 315011\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  /all together\n\n  This goes out to my magnum force\n  When we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n\n  Yo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\n  From here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\n  But can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\n  Man you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\n  Man I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\n  Squeezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\n  When the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\n  See we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\n  So when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\n  Your fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\n  You fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\n  The shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\n  You'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\n  International irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\n  Enough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\n  Peep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\n  When the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\n  V.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\n  Easin the agony, postponin the misery\n  Smoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\n  Calculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\n  I see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\n  Eyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\n  With the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\n  So they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\n  Light my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\n  Drunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\n  Jamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\n  Chop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\n  Hit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\n  Regulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\n  Bitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\n  Keep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\n  You see me? don't say shit like pink panther\n  You talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\n  Get knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\n  Dj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\n  Makin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\n  You know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\n  So who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\n  You niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\n  Whole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\n  Half-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\n  Teared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\n  Deflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\n  Take your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\n  Send her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\n  Man dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\n  Cause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\n  But scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\n  Like plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\n  Aiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\n  My triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\n  You think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\n  And leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\n  This shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\n  All that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\n  I can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\n  Have crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\n  In this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\n  Over jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\n  So when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\n  The straight, dead position when my lead go boom\n  Embeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\n  We move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\n  My rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\n  Forever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\n  Your team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\n  The repz baby, time for action, action\n\n  * \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n  2x\n\n  Throw y'all middle fingers up in the air\n  Say, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\n  Word is bon jov', oh oh\n  We run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\n  Niggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\n  Cause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n  Hehehehe, see\n  Slogan is made of force be with me\n  Not our fault\n  You can't fuck with that? fuck you all\n  Word is bon jov'.\n"},{"id":10546355,"name":"Magnum Force","trackName":"Magnum Force","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah feat. Representativz & Ruste Juxx","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":315.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"/all together\n\nThis goes out to my magnum force\nWhen we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\n\nYo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\nFrom here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\nBut can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\nMan you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\nMan I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\nSqueezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\nWhen the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\nSee we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\nSo when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\nYour fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\nYou fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\nThe shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\nYou'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\nInternational irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\nEnough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\nPeep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\nWhen the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\nV.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\nEasin the agony, postponin the misery\nSmoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\nCalculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\nI see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\nEyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\nWith the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\nSo they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\nLight my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\nDrunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\nJamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\nChop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\nHit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\nRegulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\nBitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\nKeep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\nYou see me? don't say shit like pink panther\nYou talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\nGet knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\nDj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\nMakin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\nYou know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\nSo who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\nYou niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\nWhole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\nHalf-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\nTeared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\nDeflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\nTake your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\nSend her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\nMan dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\nCause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\nBut scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\nLike plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\nAiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\nMy triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\nYou think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\nAnd leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\nThis shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\nAll that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\nI can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\nHave crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\nIn this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\nOver jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\nSo when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\nThe straight, dead position when my lead go boom\nEmbeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\nWe move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\nMy rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\nForever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\nYour team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\nThe repz baby, time for action, action\n\n* \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n2x\n\nThrow y'all middle fingers up in the air\nSay, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\nWord is bon jov', oh oh\nWe run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\nNiggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\nCause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\nMay the force be with me and if not our fault\nFor life, fuck alla y'all\nHehehehe, see\nSlogan is made of force be with me\nNot our fault\nYou can't fuck with that? fuck you all\nWord is bon jov'.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Magnum Force\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah feat. Representativz & Ruste Juxx\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 315000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  /all together\n\n  This goes out to my magnum force\n  When we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n\n  Yo you can't manage this (manage this) the bomb scandalous\n  From here to los angeles, ruckus tossin the random shit\n  But can you get, with the nigga tall sean manuscript\n  Man you shit, all up in your pants when the cannon click\n  Man I flip, on niggaz for no apparent reason\n  Squeezin shots at you heathens, to stop you from breathin\n  When the cops come he bleedin, I think he need some cpr\n  See we are the illest niggaz out that's on your tv pah\n  So when you greet me pah, better have your fuckin shit straight\n  Your fifth make, nobody move, I think your shit fake\n  You fishcake, whatever the fuck ruck dictate\n  The shit great, higher than shows made by rick lake\n  You'll lick eight, shots at them niggaz who be fuckin with\n  International irrational beat got you ruckus bitch\n  Enough of this, bullshit talkin let's start wettin shit\n  Peep the etiquette of a nigga that's known for settin shit\n\n  When the weather get free yo I hate the scene, drinkin seagulls\n  V.o., novacainin my sufferin through the strugglin\n  Easin the agony, postponin the misery\n  Smoke some weed, blank out my memory momentarily\n  Calculatin my every motion, cautious coastin\n  I see the blue and white scopin, slowly approachin\n  Eyeballin me and my sons, like we the ones\n  With the stashed guns, hopin we run, like the last ones\n  So they can get they rocks off, sound they glocks off\n  Light my blocks off, gangsta nab niggaz bump cops off\n  Drunk from red scotch, got a dead shot\n  Jamaicans in the dread spot'll blow a fed top\n  Chop a pig into hamhocks, got it on slam lock\n  Hit the swats with a cinder block off the rooftop\n  Regulatin, livest motherfuckers on this side\n  Bitches dick ride, stone soldiers with brick eyes\n\n  Keep on talkin aight? get more than your style rammed up\n  You see me? don't say shit like pink panther\n  You talk too much like run'n'them and your breath smell like pampers\n  Get knocked the fuck out by dr. david banner\n  Dj at the bar be act like records got dandruff\n  Makin niggaz scream \"oh! oh!\" and throw they hands up\n  You know this man's ruff, so my man ruck could do stand up\n  So who wanna battle? we'll learn you some manners, God damn ya\n  You niggaz make me sick as cancer, I slam ya\n  Whole crew of emcees, dj's and your dancer\n  Half-steppers can't run, panic catch a tantrum\n  Teared a new hamstrung, I stick niggaz for ransom? again now they got front, I slap cats at random\n  Deflate your egos you too gassed off the mylanta\n  Take your dough and hoe and dissapear like the phantom\n  Send her back pullin her hands up, singin the m.f.c. anthem\n  Man dem, strong like samson, shorty and jux\n  Cause I'm that nigga rock from heltah skeltah plus I'm handsome\n  But scrape that, bring handguns, my crew sorta bananas\n  Like plantains, any questions boo-yaa your answer\n\n  Aiyyo I'm movin through this life shit with the only fam I got\n  My triple r rated niggaz steady blowin up spots\n  You think not it's little rock we bust shots at your car\n  And leave you stretched in your ride like these fake rap stars\n\n  This shit right here I'm handlin'll leave your head scramblin\n  All that panickin'll get your shit ran up in\n  I can't stand it when mc's get caught ramblin\n  Have crews abandon them from slugs that my cannon send\n  In this land of sin where they break fool for the chips\n  Over jewels and whips pack my tool and my clips\n\n  So when we start to bust clips on y'all, niggaz assume\n  The straight, dead position when my lead go boom\n  Embeddin this tune, all into your fuckin doom\n  We move through these evil streets steady holdin chrome\n\n  My rep niggaz stay mashin, big up my thugs on?\n  Forever gat snatchin everytime we see the cops passin\n  Your team is has-beens, gaspin from the ass slashin\n  The repz baby, time for action, action\n\n  * \"what's\" uttered by various bccers *\n\n  2x\n\n  Throw y'all middle fingers up in the air\n  Say, \"fuck y'all niggaz, we don't care!\"\n  Word is bon jov', oh oh\n  We run up on foes, oh oh oh oh oh\n  Niggaz think they fuckin with my magnum force\n  Cause when we lay a nigga out they come and drag him off\n  May the force be with me and if not our fault\n  For life, fuck alla y'all\n  Hehehehe, see\n  Slogan is made of force be with me\n  Not our fault\n  You can't fuck with that? fuck you all\n  Word is bon jov'.\n"},{"id":32947709,"name":"I Aint Havin' Dat","trackName":"I Aint Havin' Dat","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":305.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"They don't like us\nWord up\nThey don't like us\nThey ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\nStarang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\nHangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\nSmoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\nStop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n(Now, by all means)\nI do a show in New Orleans\nAnd get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n(Starang, we been missin' you)\nLast year ATL we almost got physical\n\nI can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n(While y'all up in D&D)\nI caught two and three stitches\nI was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\nIn the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\nI wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\nAiyo, shit goes down\nTime to throw down, show up this a showdown\nSo, down low, now, I'm low down\nHold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\nBlow down ya whole town first go round\n\nYo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\nWhen I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\nLay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\nShut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\nTired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\nNow, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\nAct like you know now\nWe could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nShit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\nThen turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\nI ain't got to brag because I did it\nRun before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\nOn these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\nI ain't got to front, I make it happen\nStrictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\nHead all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\nYo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\nFirst of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\nI ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\nRun yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n(Why?)\n\nWhy ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\nFour horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n(Speed)\nLike a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\nDo the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\nBitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\nWord is bond Jovi B you wildin'\nMy dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n(My dick)\n\nSon, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nRun up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nU.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nWe could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nYo, yo, where ya at?\nTo all my peoples Hennessey passed off\nGive a toast to my whole MFC\nWhile you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\nWit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\nWhen I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\nFor my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\nWe miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\nI gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\nU.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\nEat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\nMFC keep it cookin'\n(Keep it cookin')\n\nWe emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\nRock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\nKeep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n(Now, we blow the spot)\n\nArmed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\nYou niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\nDoin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n(We ain't havin' that)\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nYou don't got no wins in mi casa\nMy shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\nFrom hilshire I still fire from helicopters\nWatch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\nClock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\nMet you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\nKnocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\nSent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\nYo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\nY'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nAnd if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, you know they can't stand me\n'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\nRan for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\nThey be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\nCould it be my name or my big gold chain?\nNow, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\nI got niggaz on the West coast\n(West side)\n\nThat meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\nIn business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\nTell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\nWarned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\nWilliam H. word up\n\nAnd if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYou just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nHere's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\nAnd when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.53] They don't like us\n[00:11.95] Word up\n[00:16.40] They don't like us\n[00:17.31] They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n[00:18.24] Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n[00:21.90] Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n[00:22.84] Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n[00:25.52] Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n[00:28.27] (Now, by all means)\n[00:29.21] I do a show in New Orleans\n[00:31.03] And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n[00:31.92] (Starang, we been missin' you)\n[00:32.83] Last year ATL we almost got physical\n[00:35.51] I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n[00:37.34] (While y'all up in D&D)\n[00:38.28] I caught two and three stitches\n[00:40.10] I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n[00:41.98] In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n[00:44.68] I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n[00:47.35] Aiyo, shit goes down\n[00:48.34] Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n[00:50.19] So, down low, now, I'm low down\n[00:51.04] Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n[00:53.71] Blow down ya whole town first go round\n[00:56.49] Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n[00:58.35] When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n[01:01.02] Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n[01:04.62] Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n[01:06.54] Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n[01:08.39] Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n[01:11.04] Act like you know now\n[01:12.88] We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n[01:15.55] I ain't havin' that\n[01:17.44] I ain't havin' that\n[01:18.39] I ain't havin' that\n[01:20.19] I ain't havin' that\n[01:21.05] Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n[01:22.84] Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n[01:26.41] I ain't got to brag because I did it\n[01:28.33] Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n[01:30.16] On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n[01:32.85] I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n[01:34.65] Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n[01:37.40] Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n[01:40.16] Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n[01:41.90] First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n[01:44.69] I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n[01:47.36] Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n[01:49.28] (Why?)\n[01:50.17] Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n[01:52.82] Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n[01:57.32] (Speed)\n[02:00.07] Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n[02:01.06] Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n[02:02.84] Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n[02:03.76] Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n[02:05.51] My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n[02:07.36] (My dick)\n[02:08.28] Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n[02:10.16] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:12.85] Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n[02:15.53] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:17.34] U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n[02:20.90] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:21.98] We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n[02:25.54] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:26.49] Yo, yo, where ya at?\n[02:27.33] To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n[02:30.08] Give a toast to my whole MFC\n[02:31.81] While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n[02:34.66] Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n[02:37.35] When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n[02:40.06] For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n[02:40.92] We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n[02:43.75] I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n[02:46.43] U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n[02:48.22] Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n[02:50.94] MFC keep it cookin'\n[02:51.90] (Keep it cookin')\n[02:53.70] We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n[02:54.61] Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n[02:58.22] Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n[03:00.03] (Now, we blow the spot)\n[03:01.89] Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n[03:05.58] You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n[03:08.27] Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n[03:10.05] (We ain't havin' that)\n[03:11.80] I ain't havin' that\n[03:12.73] I ain't havin' that\n[03:14.54] I ain't havin' that\n[03:16.46] I ain't havin' that\n[03:17.39] I ain't havin' that\n[03:18.28] You don't got no wins in mi casa\n[03:19.10] My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n[03:20.09] From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n[03:20.96] Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n[03:24.54] Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n[03:26.39] Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n[03:29.19] Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n[03:31.83] Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n[03:34.50] Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n[03:37.36] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:38.29] Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n[03:41.87] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n[03:42.79] Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n[03:46.34] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:47.20] And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n[03:50.91] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:51.89] Son, you know they can't stand me\n[03:53.61] 'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n[03:55.42] Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n[03:57.20] They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n[04:00.03] 'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n[04:02.75] Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n[04:04.50] Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n[04:07.22] I got niggaz on the West coast\n[04:08.12] (West side)\n[04:09.15] That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n[04:12.72] In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n[04:14.56] Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n[04:17.21] Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n[04:20.09] William H. word up\n[04:20.95] And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n[04:24.58] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:25.50] You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n[04:29.06] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:30.04] Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n[04:33.64] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:35.44] Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n[04:39.04] And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n[04:46.38] 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n[04:54.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I Aint Havin' Dat\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 305000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 5530\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 16400\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 16400\n  end_ms: 17310\n- text: They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n  start_ms: 17310\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 21900\n- text: Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  start_ms: 21900\n  end_ms: 22840\n- text: Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  start_ms: 22840\n  end_ms: 25520\n- text: Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n  start_ms: 25520\n  end_ms: 28270\n- text: (Now, by all means)\n  start_ms: 28270\n  end_ms: 29210\n- text: I do a show in New Orleans\n  start_ms: 29210\n  end_ms: 31030\n- text: And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  start_ms: 31030\n  end_ms: 31920\n- text: (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  start_ms: 31920\n  end_ms: 32830\n- text: Last year ATL we almost got physical\n  start_ms: 32830\n  end_ms: 35510\n- text: I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  start_ms: 35510\n  end_ms: 37340\n- text: (While y'all up in D&D)\n  start_ms: 37340\n  end_ms: 38280\n- text: I caught two and three stitches\n  start_ms: 38280\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44680\n- text: I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n  start_ms: 44680\n  end_ms: 47350\n- text: Aiyo, shit goes down\n  start_ms: 47350\n  end_ms: 48340\n- text: Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  start_ms: 48340\n  end_ms: 50190\n- text: So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  start_ms: 50190\n  end_ms: 51040\n- text: Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  start_ms: 51040\n  end_ms: 53710\n- text: Blow down ya whole town first go round\n  start_ms: 53710\n  end_ms: 56490\n- text: Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  start_ms: 56490\n  end_ms: 58350\n- text: When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  start_ms: 58350\n  end_ms: 61020\n- text: Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  start_ms: 61020\n  end_ms: 64620\n- text: Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n  start_ms: 64620\n  end_ms: 66540\n- text: Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  start_ms: 66540\n  end_ms: 68390\n- text: Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  start_ms: 68390\n  end_ms: 71040\n- text: Act like you know now\n  start_ms: 71040\n  end_ms: 72880\n- text: We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n  start_ms: 72880\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77440\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 77440\n  end_ms: 78390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 78390\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82840\n- text: Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  start_ms: 82840\n  end_ms: 86410\n- text: I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  start_ms: 86410\n  end_ms: 88330\n- text: Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n  start_ms: 88330\n  end_ms: 90160\n- text: On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  start_ms: 90160\n  end_ms: 92850\n- text: I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  start_ms: 92850\n  end_ms: 94650\n- text: Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  start_ms: 94650\n  end_ms: 97400\n- text: Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n  start_ms: 97400\n  end_ms: 100160\n- text: Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  start_ms: 100160\n  end_ms: 101900\n- text: First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  start_ms: 101900\n  end_ms: 104690\n- text: I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  start_ms: 104690\n  end_ms: 107360\n- text: Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  start_ms: 107360\n  end_ms: 109280\n- text: (Why?)\n  start_ms: 109280\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 117320\n- text: (Speed)\n  start_ms: 117320\n  end_ms: 120070\n- text: Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n  start_ms: 120070\n  end_ms: 121060\n- text: Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  start_ms: 121060\n  end_ms: 122840\n- text: Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  start_ms: 122840\n  end_ms: 123760\n- text: Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  start_ms: 123760\n  end_ms: 125510\n- text: My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  start_ms: 125510\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: (My dick)\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 128280\n- text: Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  start_ms: 128280\n  end_ms: 130160\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 130160\n  end_ms: 132850\n- text: Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  start_ms: 132850\n  end_ms: 135530\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 135530\n  end_ms: 137340\n- text: U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 137340\n  end_ms: 140900\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 140900\n  end_ms: 141980\n- text: We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 141980\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 146490\n- text: Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  start_ms: 146490\n  end_ms: 147330\n- text: To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  start_ms: 147330\n  end_ms: 150080\n- text: Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  start_ms: 150080\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 154660\n- text: Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  start_ms: 154660\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 160060\n- text: For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  start_ms: 160060\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163750\n- text: I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n  start_ms: 163750\n  end_ms: 166430\n- text: U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  start_ms: 166430\n  end_ms: 168220\n- text: Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  start_ms: 168220\n  end_ms: 170940\n- text: MFC keep it cookin'\n  start_ms: 170940\n  end_ms: 171900\n- text: (Keep it cookin')\n  start_ms: 171900\n  end_ms: 173700\n- text: We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  start_ms: 173700\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 178220\n- text: Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  start_ms: 178220\n  end_ms: 180030\n- text: (Now, we blow the spot)\n  start_ms: 180030\n  end_ms: 181890\n- text: Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  start_ms: 181890\n  end_ms: 185580\n- text: You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  start_ms: 185580\n  end_ms: 188270\n- text: Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  start_ms: 188270\n  end_ms: 190050\n- text: (We ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 190050\n  end_ms: 191800\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 191800\n  end_ms: 192730\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 192730\n  end_ms: 194540\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 194540\n  end_ms: 196460\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 196460\n  end_ms: 197390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 197390\n  end_ms: 198280\n- text: You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  start_ms: 198280\n  end_ms: 199100\n- text: My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  start_ms: 199100\n  end_ms: 200090\n- text: From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  start_ms: 200090\n  end_ms: 200960\n- text: Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n  start_ms: 200960\n  end_ms: 204540\n- text: Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  start_ms: 204540\n  end_ms: 206390\n- text: Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  start_ms: 206390\n  end_ms: 209190\n- text: Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  start_ms: 209190\n  end_ms: 211830\n- text: Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n  start_ms: 211830\n  end_ms: 214500\n- text: Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 214500\n  end_ms: 217360\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 217360\n  end_ms: 218290\n- text: Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  start_ms: 218290\n  end_ms: 221870\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n  start_ms: 221870\n  end_ms: 222790\n- text: Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  start_ms: 222790\n  end_ms: 226340\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 226340\n  end_ms: 227200\n- text: And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  start_ms: 227200\n  end_ms: 230910\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 230910\n  end_ms: 231890\n- text: Son, you know they can't stand me\n  start_ms: 231890\n  end_ms: 233610\n- text: '''Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami'\n  start_ms: 233610\n  end_ms: 235420\n- text: Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  start_ms: 235420\n  end_ms: 237200\n- text: They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n  start_ms: 237200\n  end_ms: 240030\n- text: '''Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin'' me'\n  start_ms: 240030\n  end_ms: 242750\n- text: Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  start_ms: 242750\n  end_ms: 244500\n- text: Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  start_ms: 244500\n  end_ms: 247220\n- text: I got niggaz on the West coast\n  start_ms: 247220\n  end_ms: 248120\n- text: (West side)\n  start_ms: 248120\n  end_ms: 249150\n- text: That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  start_ms: 249150\n  end_ms: 252720\n- text: In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  start_ms: 252720\n  end_ms: 254560\n- text: Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  start_ms: 254560\n  end_ms: 257210\n- text: Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  start_ms: 257210\n  end_ms: 260090\n- text: William H. word up\n  start_ms: 260090\n  end_ms: 260950\n- text: And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 260950\n  end_ms: 264580\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 264580\n  end_ms: 265500\n- text: You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 265500\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 270040\n- text: Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  start_ms: 270040\n  end_ms: 273640\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 273640\n  end_ms: 275440\n- text: Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 275440\n  end_ms: 279040\n- text: And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  start_ms: 279040\n  end_ms: 286380\n- text: 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n  start_ms: 286380\n  end_ms: 294540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 294540\nplain: |-\n  They don't like us\n  Word up\n  They don't like us\n  They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\n  Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n  (Now, by all means)\n  I do a show in New Orleans\n  And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  Last year ATL we almost got physical\n\n  I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  (While y'all up in D&D)\n  I caught two and three stitches\n  I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\n  Aiyo, shit goes down\n  Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  Blow down ya whole town first go round\n\n  Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\n  Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  Act like you know now\n  We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\n  On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\n  Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  (Why?)\n\n  Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  (Speed)\n  Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\n  Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  (My dick)\n\n  Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\n  Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\n  U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  MFC keep it cookin'\n  (Keep it cookin')\n\n  We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  (Now, we blow the spot)\n\n  Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  (We ain't havin' that)\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\n  Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\n  Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\n  Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, you know they can't stand me\n  'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n  Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n  'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n  Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  I got niggaz on the West coast\n  (West side)\n\n  That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  William H. word up\n\n  And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\n  And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n"},{"id":32790805,"name":"Sean Wigginz (Prod. NOD)","trackName":"Sean Wigginz (Prod. NOD)","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":114.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Ruck]\nGot all my Magnum niggaz in here, word up\nSean PEEEEEEEEE\nYeah, yeah, yeah, word is bond\nWord up, M-F-C\nHah, word up, yeah, yeah\nSmack this nigga son, word up, hit him\n\nYo, niggaz is pipsqueaks, thinkin shit's sweet\nI come discrete, turn your ass into mincemeat\nEver since heat, got pulled from the waistline\nwith the bassline kick and snare, Duke I make your click aware\nSo please God, never say jack shit to Sean P\nbefore I launch three shots directly at your army\nWord is bond, we be on some shit to the two-thou\nLoose mouth niggaz catch a hole in they goosedown\nDown, down, down-down, down-down-down, down\nDown, down, down, down-down, down-down\n\nDown-town, jumped off the train on Ebbets\nWalkin down the street, bump into my nigga Kevin\nWhattup Ruck? I ain't seen your ass in the Seven\nYou still bustin motherfuckin shots at the reverand?\nHell no I replied, elbows was applied\ntil his monkey-ass pulled out the heat, step aside\n\nOh shit yo whassup whassup\nYo son, yo, OH-oahh!\n\n*AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH*\n*AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*\n*AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH*\n\nFuck you shoot him for man? He just asked you a question\nFuck that, don't ask no questions in my shit\nWord is bond, I don't like that, yo word up\nYo fuck them, yo fuck you\nFuck that cat, word up\nSean PEEEEEEEEEEEEE\n\n*THIS, IS THE DIARY OF SEAN WIGGINZ*\n*RECOGNIZE, MOTHERFUCKER*\n*USE YOUR HEAD FOR MORE THAN A FUCKIN HATRACK*\n*PUNK MOTHERFUCKERS, WORD UP*\n*M-F-C, FOR LIFE!*","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sean Wigginz (Prod. NOD)\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 114000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Ruck]\n  Got all my Magnum niggaz in here, word up\n  Sean PEEEEEEEEE\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, word is bond\n  Word up, M-F-C\n  Hah, word up, yeah, yeah\n  Smack this nigga son, word up, hit him\n\n  Yo, niggaz is pipsqueaks, thinkin shit's sweet\n  I come discrete, turn your ass into mincemeat\n  Ever since heat, got pulled from the waistline\n  with the bassline kick and snare, Duke I make your click aware\n  So please God, never say jack shit to Sean P\n  before I launch three shots directly at your army\n  Word is bond, we be on some shit to the two-thou\n  Loose mouth niggaz catch a hole in they goosedown\n  Down, down, down-down, down-down-down, down\n  Down, down, down, down-down, down-down\n\n  Down-town, jumped off the train on Ebbets\n  Walkin down the street, bump into my nigga Kevin\n  Whattup Ruck? I ain't seen your ass in the Seven\n  You still bustin motherfuckin shots at the reverand?\n  Hell no I replied, elbows was applied\n  til his monkey-ass pulled out the heat, step aside\n\n  Oh shit yo whassup whassup\n  Yo son, yo, OH-oahh!\n\n  *AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH*\n  *AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*\n  *AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH*\n\n  Fuck you shoot him for man? He just asked you a question\n  Fuck that, don't ask no questions in my shit\n  Word is bond, I don't like that, yo word up\n  Yo fuck them, yo fuck you\n  Fuck that cat, word up\n  Sean PEEEEEEEEEEEEE\n\n  *THIS, IS THE DIARY OF SEAN WIGGINZ*\n  *RECOGNIZE, MOTHERFUCKER*\n  *USE YOUR HEAD FOR MORE THAN A FUCKIN HATRACK*\n  *PUNK MOTHERFUCKERS, WORD UP*\n  *M-F-C, FOR LIFE!*\n"},{"id":19691895,"name":"Hold Your Head Up","trackName":"Hold Your Head Up","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":217.573917,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah\nShit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\nBerserk for a nigga, huh?\nBitch, you're all good\nI got the force behind me\nMay the force be with us\nYeah, the force of life\nIt's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n\nHey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\nNever try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\nIdentify yourself, walking in my perimeter\nI get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\nWho's willing to (willing to) try to step to\nTall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\nDante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\nGrew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\nBut now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\nWith bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n\n(Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\nI should have listened to what my mom say\nPolice squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n\nHold your head, boy, I know it's hard\nYou hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\nHold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\nHold your head, boy\nYou know a nigga got your back\n\n(You gotta hold on, pa)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\nI can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\nCan't decide right from wrong, nights are long\nSeem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\nIt's like a therapy part two, you know that\nI go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\nThat's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\nIs some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n\nHere, here\nMeditate on this, son\nWhat the hell?\nWhen the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\nIt's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\nThink I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\nI know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n\nGot me holding heat again\nJust came home, fighting with police again\nSon, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\nI ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\nThe whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\nThat's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\nFeel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\nMake me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n\nHold your head, boy, I know it's hard\nYou hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\nHold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\nHold your head, boy\n\nWithout you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\nThere will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\nThat's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n\nHold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\nKeep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\nThings are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\nAfter a while\n\nHold your head up high\nDon't let life get you down\nWe're always go together\nI promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\nI promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n\nOh, mama\nOh, I miss you, baby\nI'm gonna make you a one proud man\nI'm gonna do the best I can\nI got the weight on my shoulder\nAnd I'm getting much older\nNo time to waste, this road I've got to face\nI'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\nI'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n\nHold your head up\nHold your head up high","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.99] Yeah\n[00:05.57] Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n[00:08.45] Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n[00:09.80] Bitch, you're all good\n[00:11.50] I got the force behind me\n[00:12.54] May the force be with us\n[00:14.11] Yeah, the force of life\n[00:17.57] It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n[00:20.30] Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n[00:23.27] Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n[00:25.69] Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n[00:28.44] I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n[00:31.01] Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n[00:33.72] Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n[00:36.19] Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n[00:38.51] Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n[00:41.32] But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n[00:43.80] With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n[00:46.33] (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n[00:47.45] I should have listened to what my mom say\n[00:49.01] Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n[00:52.02] Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n[00:53.82] You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n[00:56.76] Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n[00:58.82] Hold your head, boy\n[00:59.87] You know a nigga got your back\n[01:01.51] (You gotta hold on, pa)\n[01:02.70] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n[01:04.55] I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n[01:07.19] Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n[01:09.89] Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n[01:11.96] It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n[01:14.45] I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n[01:17.34] That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n[01:19.84] Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n[01:22.25] Here, here\n[01:23.09] Meditate on this, son\n[01:24.14] What the hell?\n[01:25.12] When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n[01:27.87] It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n[01:30.23] Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n[01:32.53] I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n[01:34.34] Got me holding heat again\n[01:35.47] Just came home, fighting with police again\n[01:37.78] Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n[01:40.49] I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n[01:43.38] The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n[01:45.43] That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n[01:48.12] Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n[01:50.79] Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n[01:54.39] Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n[01:55.30] You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n[01:58.10] Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n[02:01.07] Hold your head, boy\n[02:01.94] Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n[02:04.36] There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n[02:07.92] That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n[02:13.05] Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n[02:16.46] Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n[02:19.69] Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n[02:21.77] After a while\n[02:23.57] Hold your head up high\n[02:25.78] Don't let life get you down\n[02:29.56] We're always go together\n[02:31.93] I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n[02:37.11] I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n[02:49.05] Oh, mama\n[02:51.54] Oh, I miss you, baby\n[02:55.19] I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n[03:00.15] I'm gonna do the best I can\n[03:05.70] I got the weight on my shoulder\n[03:08.82] And I'm getting much older\n[03:11.59] No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n[03:15.94] I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n[03:20.69] I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n[03:27.06] Hold your head up\n[03:28.74] Hold your head up high\n[03:32.87] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Hold Your Head Up\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 217574\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah\n  start_ms: 2990\n  end_ms: 5570\n- text: Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n  start_ms: 5570\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 9800\n- text: Bitch, you're all good\n  start_ms: 9800\n  end_ms: 11500\n- text: I got the force behind me\n  start_ms: 11500\n  end_ms: 12540\n- text: May the force be with us\n  start_ms: 12540\n  end_ms: 14110\n- text: Yeah, the force of life\n  start_ms: 14110\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20300\n- text: Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n  start_ms: 20300\n  end_ms: 23270\n- text: Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n  start_ms: 23270\n  end_ms: 25690\n- text: Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n  start_ms: 25690\n  end_ms: 28440\n- text: I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n  start_ms: 28440\n  end_ms: 31010\n- text: Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n  start_ms: 31010\n  end_ms: 33720\n- text: Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n  start_ms: 33720\n  end_ms: 36190\n- text: Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n  start_ms: 36190\n  end_ms: 38510\n- text: Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n  start_ms: 38510\n  end_ms: 41320\n- text: But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n  start_ms: 41320\n  end_ms: 43800\n- text: With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n  start_ms: 43800\n  end_ms: 46330\n- text: (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n  start_ms: 46330\n  end_ms: 47450\n- text: I should have listened to what my mom say\n  start_ms: 47450\n  end_ms: 49010\n- text: Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n  start_ms: 49010\n  end_ms: 52020\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  start_ms: 52020\n  end_ms: 53820\n- text: You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  start_ms: 53820\n  end_ms: 56760\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n  start_ms: 56760\n  end_ms: 58820\n- text: Hold your head, boy\n  start_ms: 58820\n  end_ms: 59870\n- text: You know a nigga got your back\n  start_ms: 59870\n  end_ms: 61510\n- text: (You gotta hold on, pa)\n  start_ms: 61510\n  end_ms: 62700\n- text: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n  start_ms: 62700\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67190\n- text: Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n  start_ms: 67190\n  end_ms: 69890\n- text: Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n  start_ms: 69890\n  end_ms: 71960\n- text: It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n  start_ms: 71960\n  end_ms: 74450\n- text: I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n  start_ms: 74450\n  end_ms: 77340\n- text: That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n  start_ms: 77340\n  end_ms: 79840\n- text: Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n  start_ms: 79840\n  end_ms: 82250\n- text: Here, here\n  start_ms: 82250\n  end_ms: 83090\n- text: Meditate on this, son\n  start_ms: 83090\n  end_ms: 84140\n- text: What the hell?\n  start_ms: 84140\n  end_ms: 85120\n- text: When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n  start_ms: 85120\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 90230\n- text: Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n  start_ms: 90230\n  end_ms: 92530\n- text: I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n  start_ms: 92530\n  end_ms: 94340\n- text: Got me holding heat again\n  start_ms: 94340\n  end_ms: 95470\n- text: Just came home, fighting with police again\n  start_ms: 95470\n  end_ms: 97780\n- text: Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n  start_ms: 97780\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 103380\n- text: The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n  start_ms: 103380\n  end_ms: 105430\n- text: That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n  start_ms: 105430\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110790\n- text: Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n  start_ms: 110790\n  end_ms: 114390\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  start_ms: 114390\n  end_ms: 115300\n- text: You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  start_ms: 115300\n  end_ms: 118100\n- text: Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n  start_ms: 118100\n  end_ms: 121070\n- text: Hold your head, boy\n  start_ms: 121070\n  end_ms: 121940\n- text: Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n  start_ms: 121940\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127920\n- text: That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n  start_ms: 127920\n  end_ms: 133050\n- text: Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n  start_ms: 133050\n  end_ms: 136460\n- text: Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n  start_ms: 136460\n  end_ms: 139690\n- text: Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n  start_ms: 139690\n  end_ms: 141770\n- text: After a while\n  start_ms: 141770\n  end_ms: 143570\n- text: Hold your head up high\n  start_ms: 143570\n  end_ms: 145780\n- text: Don't let life get you down\n  start_ms: 145780\n  end_ms: 149560\n- text: We're always go together\n  start_ms: 149560\n  end_ms: 151930\n- text: I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n  start_ms: 151930\n  end_ms: 157110\n- text: I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n  start_ms: 157110\n  end_ms: 169050\n- text: Oh, mama\n  start_ms: 169050\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Oh, I miss you, baby\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 175190\n- text: I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n  start_ms: 175190\n  end_ms: 180150\n- text: I'm gonna do the best I can\n  start_ms: 180150\n  end_ms: 185700\n- text: I got the weight on my shoulder\n  start_ms: 185700\n  end_ms: 188820\n- text: And I'm getting much older\n  start_ms: 188820\n  end_ms: 191590\n- text: No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n  start_ms: 191590\n  end_ms: 195940\n- text: I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n  start_ms: 195940\n  end_ms: 200690\n- text: I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n  start_ms: 200690\n  end_ms: 207060\n- text: Hold your head up\n  start_ms: 207060\n  end_ms: 208740\n- text: Hold your head up high\n  start_ms: 208740\n  end_ms: 212870\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212870\nplain: |-\n  Yeah\n  Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n  Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n  Bitch, you're all good\n  I got the force behind me\n  May the force be with us\n  Yeah, the force of life\n  It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n\n  Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n  Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n  Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n  I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n  Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n  Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n  Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n  Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n  But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n  With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n\n  (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n  I should have listened to what my mom say\n  Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n\n  Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n  Hold your head, boy\n  You know a nigga got your back\n\n  (You gotta hold on, pa)\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n  I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n  Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n  Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n  It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n  I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n  That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n  Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n\n  Here, here\n  Meditate on this, son\n  What the hell?\n  When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n  It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n  Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n  I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n\n  Got me holding heat again\n  Just came home, fighting with police again\n  Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n  I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n  The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n  That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n  Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n  Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n\n  Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n  Hold your head, boy\n\n  Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n  There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n  That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n\n  Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n  Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n  Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n  After a while\n\n  Hold your head up high\n  Don't let life get you down\n  We're always go together\n  I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n  I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n\n  Oh, mama\n  Oh, I miss you, baby\n  I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n  I'm gonna do the best I can\n  I got the weight on my shoulder\n  And I'm getting much older\n  No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n  I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n  I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n\n  Hold your head up\n  Hold your head up high\n"},{"id":19891030,"name":"I Ain´t Havin That","trackName":"I Ain´t Havin That","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":305.066667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"They don't like us\nWord up\nThey don't like us\nThey ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\nStarang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\nHangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\nSmoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\nStop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n(Now, by all means)\nI do a show in New Orleans\nAnd get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n(Starang, we been missin' you)\nLast year ATL we almost got physical\n\nI can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n(While y'all up in D&D)\nI caught two and three stitches\nI was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\nIn the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\nI wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\nAiyo, shit goes down\nTime to throw down, show up this a showdown\nSo, down low, now, I'm low down\nHold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\nBlow down ya whole town first go round\n\nYo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\nWhen I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\nLay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\nShut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\nTired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\nNow, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\nAct like you know now\nWe could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nShit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\nThen turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\nI ain't got to brag because I did it\nRun before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\nOn these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\nI ain't got to front, I make it happen\nStrictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\nHead all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\nYo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\nFirst of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\nI ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\nRun yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n(Why?)\n\nWhy ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\nFour horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n(Speed)\nLike a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\nDo the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\nBitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\nWord is bond Jovi B you wildin'\nMy dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n(My dick)\n\nSon, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nRun up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nU.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nWe could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nYo, yo, where ya at?\nTo all my peoples Hennessey passed off\nGive a toast to my whole MFC\nWhile you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\nWit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\nWhen I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\nFor my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\nWe miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\nI gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\nU.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\nEat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\nMFC keep it cookin'\n(Keep it cookin')\n\nWe emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\nRock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\nKeep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n(Now, we blow the spot)\n\nArmed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\nYou niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\nDoin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n(We ain't havin' that)\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nYou don't got no wins in mi casa\nMy shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\nFrom hilshire I still fire from helicopters\nWatch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\nClock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\nMet you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\nKnocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\nSent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\nYo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\nY'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nAnd if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, you know they can't stand me\n'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\nRan for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\nThey be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\nCould it be my name or my big gold chain?\nNow, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\nI got niggaz on the West coast\n(West side)\n\nThat meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\nIn business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\nTell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\nWarned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\nWilliam H. word up\n\nAnd if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYou just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nHere's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\nAnd when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.53] They don't like us\n[00:11.95] Word up\n[00:16.40] They don't like us\n[00:17.31] They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n[00:18.24] Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n[00:21.90] Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n[00:22.84] Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n[00:25.52] Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n[00:28.27] (Now, by all means)\n[00:29.21] I do a show in New Orleans\n[00:31.03] And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n[00:31.92] (Starang, we been missin' you)\n[00:32.83] Last year ATL we almost got physical\n[00:35.51] I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n[00:37.34] (While y'all up in D&D)\n[00:38.28] I caught two and three stitches\n[00:40.10] I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n[00:41.98] In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n[00:44.68] I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n[00:47.35] Aiyo, shit goes down\n[00:48.34] Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n[00:50.19] So, down low, now, I'm low down\n[00:51.04] Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n[00:53.71] Blow down ya whole town first go round\n[00:56.49] Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n[00:58.35] When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n[01:01.02] Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n[01:04.62] Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n[01:06.54] Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n[01:08.39] Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n[01:11.04] Act like you know now\n[01:12.88] We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n[01:15.55] I ain't havin' that\n[01:17.44] I ain't havin' that\n[01:18.39] I ain't havin' that\n[01:20.19] I ain't havin' that\n[01:21.05] Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n[01:22.84] Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n[01:26.41] I ain't got to brag because I did it\n[01:28.33] Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n[01:30.16] On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n[01:32.85] I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n[01:34.65] Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n[01:37.40] Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n[01:40.16] Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n[01:41.90] First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n[01:44.69] I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n[01:47.36] Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n[01:49.28] (Why?)\n[01:50.17] Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n[01:52.82] Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n[01:57.32] (Speed)\n[02:00.07] Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n[02:01.06] Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n[02:02.84] Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n[02:03.76] Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n[02:05.51] My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n[02:07.36] (My dick)\n[02:08.28] Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n[02:10.16] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:12.85] Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n[02:15.53] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:17.34] U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n[02:20.90] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:21.98] We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n[02:25.54] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:26.49] Yo, yo, where ya at?\n[02:27.33] To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n[02:30.08] Give a toast to my whole MFC\n[02:31.81] While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n[02:34.66] Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n[02:37.35] When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n[02:40.06] For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n[02:40.92] We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n[02:43.75] I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n[02:46.43] U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n[02:48.22] Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n[02:50.94] MFC keep it cookin'\n[02:51.90] (Keep it cookin')\n[02:53.70] We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n[02:54.61] Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n[02:58.22] Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n[03:00.03] (Now, we blow the spot)\n[03:01.89] Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n[03:05.58] You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n[03:08.27] Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n[03:10.05] (We ain't havin' that)\n[03:11.80] I ain't havin' that\n[03:12.73] I ain't havin' that\n[03:14.54] I ain't havin' that\n[03:16.46] I ain't havin' that\n[03:17.39] I ain't havin' that\n[03:18.28] You don't got no wins in mi casa\n[03:19.10] My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n[03:20.09] From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n[03:20.96] Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n[03:24.54] Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n[03:26.39] Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n[03:29.19] Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n[03:31.83] Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n[03:34.50] Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n[03:37.36] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:38.29] Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n[03:41.87] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n[03:42.79] Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n[03:46.34] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:47.20] And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n[03:50.91] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:51.89] Son, you know they can't stand me\n[03:53.61] 'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n[03:55.42] Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n[03:57.20] They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n[04:00.03] 'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n[04:02.75] Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n[04:04.50] Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n[04:07.22] I got niggaz on the West coast\n[04:08.12] (West side)\n[04:09.15] That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n[04:12.72] In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n[04:14.56] Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n[04:17.21] Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n[04:20.09] William H. word up\n[04:20.95] And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n[04:24.58] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:25.50] You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n[04:29.06] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:30.04] Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n[04:33.64] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:35.44] Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n[04:39.04] And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n[04:46.38] 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n[04:54.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I Ain´t Havin That\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 305067\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 5530\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 16400\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 16400\n  end_ms: 17310\n- text: They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n  start_ms: 17310\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 21900\n- text: Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  start_ms: 21900\n  end_ms: 22840\n- text: Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  start_ms: 22840\n  end_ms: 25520\n- text: Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n  start_ms: 25520\n  end_ms: 28270\n- text: (Now, by all means)\n  start_ms: 28270\n  end_ms: 29210\n- text: I do a show in New Orleans\n  start_ms: 29210\n  end_ms: 31030\n- text: And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  start_ms: 31030\n  end_ms: 31920\n- text: (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  start_ms: 31920\n  end_ms: 32830\n- text: Last year ATL we almost got physical\n  start_ms: 32830\n  end_ms: 35510\n- text: I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  start_ms: 35510\n  end_ms: 37340\n- text: (While y'all up in D&D)\n  start_ms: 37340\n  end_ms: 38280\n- text: I caught two and three stitches\n  start_ms: 38280\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44680\n- text: I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n  start_ms: 44680\n  end_ms: 47350\n- text: Aiyo, shit goes down\n  start_ms: 47350\n  end_ms: 48340\n- text: Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  start_ms: 48340\n  end_ms: 50190\n- text: So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  start_ms: 50190\n  end_ms: 51040\n- text: Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  start_ms: 51040\n  end_ms: 53710\n- text: Blow down ya whole town first go round\n  start_ms: 53710\n  end_ms: 56490\n- text: Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  start_ms: 56490\n  end_ms: 58350\n- text: When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  start_ms: 58350\n  end_ms: 61020\n- text: Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  start_ms: 61020\n  end_ms: 64620\n- text: Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n  start_ms: 64620\n  end_ms: 66540\n- text: Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  start_ms: 66540\n  end_ms: 68390\n- text: Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  start_ms: 68390\n  end_ms: 71040\n- text: Act like you know now\n  start_ms: 71040\n  end_ms: 72880\n- text: We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n  start_ms: 72880\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77440\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 77440\n  end_ms: 78390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 78390\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82840\n- text: Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  start_ms: 82840\n  end_ms: 86410\n- text: I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  start_ms: 86410\n  end_ms: 88330\n- text: Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n  start_ms: 88330\n  end_ms: 90160\n- text: On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  start_ms: 90160\n  end_ms: 92850\n- text: I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  start_ms: 92850\n  end_ms: 94650\n- text: Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  start_ms: 94650\n  end_ms: 97400\n- text: Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n  start_ms: 97400\n  end_ms: 100160\n- text: Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  start_ms: 100160\n  end_ms: 101900\n- text: First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  start_ms: 101900\n  end_ms: 104690\n- text: I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  start_ms: 104690\n  end_ms: 107360\n- text: Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  start_ms: 107360\n  end_ms: 109280\n- text: (Why?)\n  start_ms: 109280\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 117320\n- text: (Speed)\n  start_ms: 117320\n  end_ms: 120070\n- text: Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n  start_ms: 120070\n  end_ms: 121060\n- text: Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  start_ms: 121060\n  end_ms: 122840\n- text: Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  start_ms: 122840\n  end_ms: 123760\n- text: Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  start_ms: 123760\n  end_ms: 125510\n- text: My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  start_ms: 125510\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: (My dick)\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 128280\n- text: Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  start_ms: 128280\n  end_ms: 130160\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 130160\n  end_ms: 132850\n- text: Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  start_ms: 132850\n  end_ms: 135530\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 135530\n  end_ms: 137340\n- text: U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 137340\n  end_ms: 140900\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 140900\n  end_ms: 141980\n- text: We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 141980\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 146490\n- text: Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  start_ms: 146490\n  end_ms: 147330\n- text: To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  start_ms: 147330\n  end_ms: 150080\n- text: Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  start_ms: 150080\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 154660\n- text: Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  start_ms: 154660\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 160060\n- text: For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  start_ms: 160060\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163750\n- text: I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n  start_ms: 163750\n  end_ms: 166430\n- text: U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  start_ms: 166430\n  end_ms: 168220\n- text: Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  start_ms: 168220\n  end_ms: 170940\n- text: MFC keep it cookin'\n  start_ms: 170940\n  end_ms: 171900\n- text: (Keep it cookin')\n  start_ms: 171900\n  end_ms: 173700\n- text: We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  start_ms: 173700\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 178220\n- text: Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  start_ms: 178220\n  end_ms: 180030\n- text: (Now, we blow the spot)\n  start_ms: 180030\n  end_ms: 181890\n- text: Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  start_ms: 181890\n  end_ms: 185580\n- text: You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  start_ms: 185580\n  end_ms: 188270\n- text: Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  start_ms: 188270\n  end_ms: 190050\n- text: (We ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 190050\n  end_ms: 191800\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 191800\n  end_ms: 192730\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 192730\n  end_ms: 194540\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 194540\n  end_ms: 196460\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 196460\n  end_ms: 197390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 197390\n  end_ms: 198280\n- text: You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  start_ms: 198280\n  end_ms: 199100\n- text: My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  start_ms: 199100\n  end_ms: 200090\n- text: From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  start_ms: 200090\n  end_ms: 200960\n- text: Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n  start_ms: 200960\n  end_ms: 204540\n- text: Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  start_ms: 204540\n  end_ms: 206390\n- text: Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  start_ms: 206390\n  end_ms: 209190\n- text: Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  start_ms: 209190\n  end_ms: 211830\n- text: Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n  start_ms: 211830\n  end_ms: 214500\n- text: Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 214500\n  end_ms: 217360\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 217360\n  end_ms: 218290\n- text: Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  start_ms: 218290\n  end_ms: 221870\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n  start_ms: 221870\n  end_ms: 222790\n- text: Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  start_ms: 222790\n  end_ms: 226340\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 226340\n  end_ms: 227200\n- text: And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  start_ms: 227200\n  end_ms: 230910\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 230910\n  end_ms: 231890\n- text: Son, you know they can't stand me\n  start_ms: 231890\n  end_ms: 233610\n- text: '''Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami'\n  start_ms: 233610\n  end_ms: 235420\n- text: Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  start_ms: 235420\n  end_ms: 237200\n- text: They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n  start_ms: 237200\n  end_ms: 240030\n- text: '''Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin'' me'\n  start_ms: 240030\n  end_ms: 242750\n- text: Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  start_ms: 242750\n  end_ms: 244500\n- text: Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  start_ms: 244500\n  end_ms: 247220\n- text: I got niggaz on the West coast\n  start_ms: 247220\n  end_ms: 248120\n- text: (West side)\n  start_ms: 248120\n  end_ms: 249150\n- text: That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  start_ms: 249150\n  end_ms: 252720\n- text: In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  start_ms: 252720\n  end_ms: 254560\n- text: Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  start_ms: 254560\n  end_ms: 257210\n- text: Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  start_ms: 257210\n  end_ms: 260090\n- text: William H. word up\n  start_ms: 260090\n  end_ms: 260950\n- text: And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 260950\n  end_ms: 264580\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 264580\n  end_ms: 265500\n- text: You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 265500\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 270040\n- text: Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  start_ms: 270040\n  end_ms: 273640\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 273640\n  end_ms: 275440\n- text: Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 275440\n  end_ms: 279040\n- text: And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  start_ms: 279040\n  end_ms: 286380\n- text: 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n  start_ms: 286380\n  end_ms: 294540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 294540\nplain: |-\n  They don't like us\n  Word up\n  They don't like us\n  They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\n  Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n  (Now, by all means)\n  I do a show in New Orleans\n  And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  Last year ATL we almost got physical\n\n  I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  (While y'all up in D&D)\n  I caught two and three stitches\n  I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\n  Aiyo, shit goes down\n  Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  Blow down ya whole town first go round\n\n  Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\n  Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  Act like you know now\n  We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\n  On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\n  Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  (Why?)\n\n  Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  (Speed)\n  Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\n  Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  (My dick)\n\n  Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\n  Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\n  U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  MFC keep it cookin'\n  (Keep it cookin')\n\n  We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  (Now, we blow the spot)\n\n  Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  (We ain't havin' that)\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\n  Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\n  Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\n  Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, you know they can't stand me\n  'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n  Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n  'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n  Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  I got niggaz on the West coast\n  (West side)\n\n  That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  William H. word up\n\n  And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\n  And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n"},{"id":20475501,"name":"Gang´s All Here","trackName":"Gang´s All Here","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":548.666667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Thunderfoot]\nAiyyo I been spittin this rap shit for too long To let y'all heads\nget me hot under my collar through songs And best don't get it\ntwisted My Magnum Force practice Operation:\nLockdown And don't you clowns ever forget it The other half'll feel\nmy brother's wrath,\nthat we break through And always\nbeen the type to take you there like?\nWarren Staples?\nBlow spots wit no glock the show stop when domes pop\nYou should of stayed your ass home bop, you got a flow--not\n\nI set it off on a mission like the Sentinel Cuz I was sent to do,\nmurder the crew sayin I'm merciful I wrote a few,\njournals in my Nocturnal state Blaze like an inferno,\nwatch niggas just cremate Too late to run and turn to Rev.\nRun Some blessin the section,\ngivin them niggas quick trips to heaven Straight murder wit the\nunheard-a, lyritifical Beneficial,\nthat you never pursure the issue The ninth initial,\nthought as to rip the bits n kibbles I kick ass, more than a little,\nmy rhyme riddle Your mind's a dead veg-e-table when I\nhit you Doin like I should do, bringin Noyz to my acquittal\n\nWit no discrepency, I rip MC wit no referee Devil tested me,\ncan't let him get the best of me Wit accuracy,\nI'll attack an MC Spittin like I emptied the M-1 from the M-P Wit no\napology, unload on your property causing atrocity At a rapid\nvelocity, mental artillery,\nmilitary anatomy After you battle me call me your majesty for\nmastering The art of fastening, grappling,\nlocking down this rapping thing Tackling the majority,\nbomb with authority More than minority,\nS-T got seniority Rhymin since\nKnowledge and Quality wit college degree\nKill out to all the enemy,\nwe killin all a dem Kill out to all the\nenemy, don't matter if it's enemy or friend)\n\nDoc ain't nuttin but the truth,\n100% when I get bent It's possible that I'm mad, forget?\nI'm blind, deaf, and mute To all you shit poppers,\nput your money where your mouth at I roll wit bank stoppers,\nfive-foot Reps who whip ass Erases coppers, it's mandatory,\nthat D-O-C stay shittin Laws and lows to keep you hoes on my didick\nMy foes stay foes so all you jacks need to quit it Doc shines,\nhot lines, and jackers come and get it And\none false move, I'm guaranteed to be acquitted\n\nAiyyo, we gang bangin, through the tri-state area Act up,\nmy MFC niggas'll have to bury ya Ain't nuttin scarier,\nthan a five-foot eight nigga Holding the big toast,\nmake yo chest piece shake I cut niggas like class and glass from\ndirty bottles Runnin through these streets high-speed at full\nthrottle Ghetto role models,\nso what the fuck y'all tellin me Misdemeanor cats wit raps,\nwannabe felonies Fuck sellin trees man,\nI smoke too much I lay my raps, get my traps,\nthen I roast the dutch Y'all niggas boast too much,\nabout the shit you got I hope the money save\nthat ass when the shit get hot It's Lidu Rock\n\nMany think I ain't got it in me,\ncuz I'm plenty-friendly It could be because I'm\nskinny But I'll fuck you up like Henny and Remmy?\nIf any of trash?, we'll I'll scream \" gimme\"\nTo any who make it hard to Get Away like Tim or\nPenny Semi-auto, wit a swift into your track,?\nit cracks?\nAnd creeps morse code,\nI'm sendin smoke signals That's how my gats be Tactics,\nI crack piece are phenomenal Ask peeps,\nwhat kinda drama do the Bummy Jab wreak He'll tell ya,\nthe boy cause straight Heltah Skeltah I got the block sweltering and\nhot like your biotch when I felt her So don't fuck wit my head,\ngot static I'm buckin you dead I'll bend your body like Craftmatic\nAdjustable Bed Fuck what you said,\nfor y'all I got nuttin but lead-o And stop fuckin askin me why Ruck\ncut his dreads It's up in the air, we buckin from here,\nto where you rest at In a jet black,\nExpedition fishin to get some get back\nKill out to all our enemies,\nwe killin all a dem Kill out to all our\nenemies, no matter if it's enemy or friend)\n\nMy militant mind's impervious to submission Maintain in the rank,\nglorious in this division Killa Cartel-N-MFC in collision The scene\ncould get bloody, two teams wit one mission I stomps through the\ncrack slums of mother Medina Push weed to stack funds for my mother\nDina Rustee Jux-man, Brooklyn mercenary Some say it's rap,\nsome say it's legendary The pack that run wit me,\nattack wit guns swiftly My young legion niggas got smacked on\none-fifty Cold mashin, straight blastin,\nsteady mobbin I rose to large drug dealin from petty robbin\n\nWell it's the five-eight,\nhands I'm holdin brothers for ransom Operation generation down to the\nseeds of your grandson And blow off like a handgun,\nhittin niggas at random Damn son,\ngot love for thugs singin my anthem I amp them,\nspittin my raps spectacular Forever clappin the rapper that's bitin\nlike he Dracula You see what happens to all of these fake rhyme\nfashioners I bring disaster to niggas thats claimin they done\nmastered the Art, who's the next on my chart to mark You know I swim\nwit the shark, why y'all niggas wanna start Big gram and knee\nlow, stay on the d-low Rollin black in the back of the fat Ex-P-O\n\nWell it's the lazy-eye criminal,\nbaby nines the minimum In the gat cabin,\nTek we make it happen You just rappin,\nbitch niggas get bitch smacked when You start yappin,\nget your shine snatched for flashin Straight extorted,\nlike an IRS audit You never gonna\nbust that gun, so why you bought it?\nSee you came home frolic,\nbut you show fake love Like the Feds try to get close and lay down\nbugs Try to skate but got schemed on,\nyou had to lay Didn't know niggas got Desert E's and PK's\n\nMe and my crew ride up and down St.\nJames like a pack of great danes Ain't shit changed,\nsee y'all niggas take your gold frames Spit in your face and I'm a\nhave to smack flames Out your ass for tryin to laugh and plus play\ngames (word up) We ain't Connecticut,\nain't even sweatin it Pack up your bags bitch,\ncome wit some better shit Son them niggas probably home right now,\nfor real regretting it I don't want to be y'all,\nwhen we see y'all I'm settin it Niggas on my dick so\nmuch I brought a saddle We can take it to the streets\n(word up word up),\nbring your heat, battle For your seven-forty Beamer,\nwit your shorty Kima in it If you platinum you can drive me through\nManhattan while I hit it Everywhere I go,\nI let em know Starang's the shit Over\nthree-hundred thousand fans and ain't never had a hit William H.\nis the name,\nMFC's the click Y'all niggas takin us out?, y'all smokin the shit\n\nRetreat retreat, all pussy boys,\nretreat Magnum Force come to take over Retreat,\nretreat, all pussy boys, retreat Magnum Force come to take over)\n\nSEAN P., you better recognize,\nI be wreckin guys Fuckin cockroaches still breathin up your\npesticides Like D-Con,\nsee Sean be on some shit from day one Spray guns at funny style\nniggas who actin gay son Ruck made the paper,\nyou could turn to page one Butt-fuckin your\nchick wit a mothafuckin gauge son Who said that?\nRuck said wack shit, aiyyo dead that For the headcrack,\nleave your face lumpy like Craig Mack I\nread that, niggas want beef aiyyo so get back?\nHappen in?\nperson cuz I'm hurtin niggas who said that You fuckin wet back,\nsmack you wit the fuck med's pack Then have sex at,\nthe same place I park my Lex at [Buckshot] The last black gene,\ngreen socks Serve the fans quick like servin fiend rock Understand\nthe scene is locked, when you dead bolt Hit em in the throat,\nride em like the jet black colt Through the jungle,\nit's another rumble when I set it so free And flee from his body back\nto the OGC I never heard of that nigga,\nin the first place I hit him in the worst place,\nhid the waste Need a replacement killa,\nhustle dope shit so I'm a drug dealer So for real-a,\non point wit the nine mill-a Straight give\na nigga guillotine shit Heads come off the?\nlean?\nwit one stroke Two tokes from the mack tilly Give a mothafucker two\nto the belly Stop, look and acting like the shot from your ass\nwhippin Nigga, why you trippin,\ndon't start slippin now Fool keep flippin\nIt's not over, it's not over, oh oh\n\nYo it was on to the next phase Spit ink on a page,\nhostile rage No sugar and sour like lemmonade Bing came to me in a\ndream he said \" come clean\" So I scalped and praise,\nI'm on my way Gat and pick straight out the gate When I see yo say\n\" you back up on your duty?\" Yo my mouth spittin arson,\nnew shit is startin But ain't shit changed,\nyou know your range,\nbeg your pardon Starv like Marv, I'm on the job First rob and?\nslug?\nmothafuckers licked the knob Be like that,\nwhen I clap back time I feel it deeply,\nfor my niggas I left behind I rep for mine,\nhere son feel the shine Can't say no names,\ncuz all my niggas is on my mind Yo I'm all about me\nsonee, hand me money Ja Ja, and bring yo ass here to poppa","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Gang´s All Here\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 548667\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Thunderfoot]\n  Aiyyo I been spittin this rap shit for too long To let y'all heads\n  get me hot under my collar through songs And best don't get it\n  twisted My Magnum Force practice Operation:\n  Lockdown And don't you clowns ever forget it The other half'll feel\n  my brother's wrath,\n  that we break through And always\n  been the type to take you there like?\n  Warren Staples?\n  Blow spots wit no glock the show stop when domes pop\n  You should of stayed your ass home bop, you got a flow--not\n\n  I set it off on a mission like the Sentinel Cuz I was sent to do,\n  murder the crew sayin I'm merciful I wrote a few,\n  journals in my Nocturnal state Blaze like an inferno,\n  watch niggas just cremate Too late to run and turn to Rev.\n  Run Some blessin the section,\n  givin them niggas quick trips to heaven Straight murder wit the\n  unheard-a, lyritifical Beneficial,\n  that you never pursure the issue The ninth initial,\n  thought as to rip the bits n kibbles I kick ass, more than a little,\n  my rhyme riddle Your mind's a dead veg-e-table when I\n  hit you Doin like I should do, bringin Noyz to my acquittal\n\n  Wit no discrepency, I rip MC wit no referee Devil tested me,\n  can't let him get the best of me Wit accuracy,\n  I'll attack an MC Spittin like I emptied the M-1 from the M-P Wit no\n  apology, unload on your property causing atrocity At a rapid\n  velocity, mental artillery,\n  military anatomy After you battle me call me your majesty for\n  mastering The art of fastening, grappling,\n  locking down this rapping thing Tackling the majority,\n  bomb with authority More than minority,\n  S-T got seniority Rhymin since\n  Knowledge and Quality wit college degree\n  Kill out to all the enemy,\n  we killin all a dem Kill out to all the\n  enemy, don't matter if it's enemy or friend)\n\n  Doc ain't nuttin but the truth,\n  100% when I get bent It's possible that I'm mad, forget?\n  I'm blind, deaf, and mute To all you shit poppers,\n  put your money where your mouth at I roll wit bank stoppers,\n  five-foot Reps who whip ass Erases coppers, it's mandatory,\n  that D-O-C stay shittin Laws and lows to keep you hoes on my didick\n  My foes stay foes so all you jacks need to quit it Doc shines,\n  hot lines, and jackers come and get it And\n  one false move, I'm guaranteed to be acquitted\n\n  Aiyyo, we gang bangin, through the tri-state area Act up,\n  my MFC niggas'll have to bury ya Ain't nuttin scarier,\n  than a five-foot eight nigga Holding the big toast,\n  make yo chest piece shake I cut niggas like class and glass from\n  dirty bottles Runnin through these streets high-speed at full\n  throttle Ghetto role models,\n  so what the fuck y'all tellin me Misdemeanor cats wit raps,\n  wannabe felonies Fuck sellin trees man,\n  I smoke too much I lay my raps, get my traps,\n  then I roast the dutch Y'all niggas boast too much,\n  about the shit you got I hope the money save\n  that ass when the shit get hot It's Lidu Rock\n\n  Many think I ain't got it in me,\n  cuz I'm plenty-friendly It could be because I'm\n  skinny But I'll fuck you up like Henny and Remmy?\n  If any of trash?, we'll I'll scream \" gimme\"\n  To any who make it hard to Get Away like Tim or\n  Penny Semi-auto, wit a swift into your track,?\n  it cracks?\n  And creeps morse code,\n  I'm sendin smoke signals That's how my gats be Tactics,\n  I crack piece are phenomenal Ask peeps,\n  what kinda drama do the Bummy Jab wreak He'll tell ya,\n  the boy cause straight Heltah Skeltah I got the block sweltering and\n  hot like your biotch when I felt her So don't fuck wit my head,\n  got static I'm buckin you dead I'll bend your body like Craftmatic\n  Adjustable Bed Fuck what you said,\n  for y'all I got nuttin but lead-o And stop fuckin askin me why Ruck\n  cut his dreads It's up in the air, we buckin from here,\n  to where you rest at In a jet black,\n  Expedition fishin to get some get back\n  Kill out to all our enemies,\n  we killin all a dem Kill out to all our\n  enemies, no matter if it's enemy or friend)\n\n  My militant mind's impervious to submission Maintain in the rank,\n  glorious in this division Killa Cartel-N-MFC in collision The scene\n  could get bloody, two teams wit one mission I stomps through the\n  crack slums of mother Medina Push weed to stack funds for my mother\n  Dina Rustee Jux-man, Brooklyn mercenary Some say it's rap,\n  some say it's legendary The pack that run wit me,\n  attack wit guns swiftly My young legion niggas got smacked on\n  one-fifty Cold mashin, straight blastin,\n  steady mobbin I rose to large drug dealin from petty robbin\n\n  Well it's the five-eight,\n  hands I'm holdin brothers for ransom Operation generation down to the\n  seeds of your grandson And blow off like a handgun,\n  hittin niggas at random Damn son,\n  got love for thugs singin my anthem I amp them,\n  spittin my raps spectacular Forever clappin the rapper that's bitin\n  like he Dracula You see what happens to all of these fake rhyme\n  fashioners I bring disaster to niggas thats claimin they done\n  mastered the Art, who's the next on my chart to mark You know I swim\n  wit the shark, why y'all niggas wanna start Big gram and knee\n  low, stay on the d-low Rollin black in the back of the fat Ex-P-O\n\n  Well it's the lazy-eye criminal,\n  baby nines the minimum In the gat cabin,\n  Tek we make it happen You just rappin,\n  bitch niggas get bitch smacked when You start yappin,\n  get your shine snatched for flashin Straight extorted,\n  like an IRS audit You never gonna\n  bust that gun, so why you bought it?\n  See you came home frolic,\n  but you show fake love Like the Feds try to get close and lay down\n  bugs Try to skate but got schemed on,\n  you had to lay Didn't know niggas got Desert E's and PK's\n\n  Me and my crew ride up and down St.\n  James like a pack of great danes Ain't shit changed,\n  see y'all niggas take your gold frames Spit in your face and I'm a\n  have to smack flames Out your ass for tryin to laugh and plus play\n  games (word up) We ain't Connecticut,\n  ain't even sweatin it Pack up your bags bitch,\n  come wit some better shit Son them niggas probably home right now,\n  for real regretting it I don't want to be y'all,\n  when we see y'all I'm settin it Niggas on my dick so\n  much I brought a saddle We can take it to the streets\n  (word up word up),\n  bring your heat, battle For your seven-forty Beamer,\n  wit your shorty Kima in it If you platinum you can drive me through\n  Manhattan while I hit it Everywhere I go,\n  I let em know Starang's the shit Over\n  three-hundred thousand fans and ain't never had a hit William H.\n  is the name,\n  MFC's the click Y'all niggas takin us out?, y'all smokin the shit\n\n  Retreat retreat, all pussy boys,\n  retreat Magnum Force come to take over Retreat,\n  retreat, all pussy boys, retreat Magnum Force come to take over)\n\n  SEAN P., you better recognize,\n  I be wreckin guys Fuckin cockroaches still breathin up your\n  pesticides Like D-Con,\n  see Sean be on some shit from day one Spray guns at funny style\n  niggas who actin gay son Ruck made the paper,\n  you could turn to page one Butt-fuckin your\n  chick wit a mothafuckin gauge son Who said that?\n  Ruck said wack shit, aiyyo dead that For the headcrack,\n  leave your face lumpy like Craig Mack I\n  read that, niggas want beef aiyyo so get back?\n  Happen in?\n  person cuz I'm hurtin niggas who said that You fuckin wet back,\n  smack you wit the fuck med's pack Then have sex at,\n  the same place I park my Lex at [Buckshot] The last black gene,\n  green socks Serve the fans quick like servin fiend rock Understand\n  the scene is locked, when you dead bolt Hit em in the throat,\n  ride em like the jet black colt Through the jungle,\n  it's another rumble when I set it so free And flee from his body back\n  to the OGC I never heard of that nigga,\n  in the first place I hit him in the worst place,\n  hid the waste Need a replacement killa,\n  hustle dope shit so I'm a drug dealer So for real-a,\n  on point wit the nine mill-a Straight give\n  a nigga guillotine shit Heads come off the?\n  lean?\n  wit one stroke Two tokes from the mack tilly Give a mothafucker two\n  to the belly Stop, look and acting like the shot from your ass\n  whippin Nigga, why you trippin,\n  don't start slippin now Fool keep flippin\n  It's not over, it's not over, oh oh\n\n  Yo it was on to the next phase Spit ink on a page,\n  hostile rage No sugar and sour like lemmonade Bing came to me in a\n  dream he said \" come clean\" So I scalped and praise,\n  I'm on my way Gat and pick straight out the gate When I see yo say\n  \" you back up on your duty?\" Yo my mouth spittin arson,\n  new shit is startin But ain't shit changed,\n  you know your range,\n  beg your pardon Starv like Marv, I'm on the job First rob and?\n  slug?\n  mothafuckers licked the knob Be like that,\n  when I clap back time I feel it deeply,\n  for my niggas I left behind I rep for mine,\n  here son feel the shine Can't say no names,\n  cuz all my niggas is on my mind Yo I'm all about me\n  sonee, hand me money Ja Ja, and bring yo ass here to poppa\n"},{"id":13645629,"name":"Call Tyrone","trackName":"Call Tyrone","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":91.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Erykah]\"I'm a test this out on y'all right quick.Now keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit.(ha ha ha)Sistahs how yall doin.Brothaz yall alright\"\n\"Lets See How Ya'll Groove to this\"\n\"Alright\"\nI'm gettin' tired of your shit\nYou don't never buy me nothin'\nSee Everytime you come around\nYou got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone\nSee why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes\nSee I've been having this on my mind\nFor a long time\nI just want it to be\nYou and me\nLike It used to be, Baby\nBut ya don't know how to act\nSo matter of fact\n[Chorus]\nI think ya better call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\nAnd Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)\nYou need to Call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\nAnd tell him I said come on\nNow everytime I ask you for a little cash\nYou say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass\nOh, Well hold up\nListen partna\nI ain't no cheap thrill\nCause Miss Badu is always comin' for real\nAnd you know the deal\nEverytime we go somewhere\nI gotta reach down in my purse\nTo pay your way and your homeboys way\nAnd sometimes your cousin's way\nThey don't never have to pay\nDon't have no cars\nHang around in bars\nTry to hang around with stars\nLike Badu\nI'm gon' tell you the truth\nShow and prove\nOr get the boot\nI think ya better, (Erykah Badu-He, he he)\n(Call Him)\nAnd tell him come on\nHelp you get your shit\nYou need to call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\n[Erykah Badu]\"Hold On\"\nBut ya can't use my phone","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Call Tyrone\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 91000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Erykah]\"I'm a test this out on y'all right quick.Now keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit.(ha ha ha)Sistahs how yall doin.Brothaz yall alright\"\n  \"Lets See How Ya'll Groove to this\"\n  \"Alright\"\n  I'm gettin' tired of your shit\n  You don't never buy me nothin'\n  See Everytime you come around\n  You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone\n  See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes\n  See I've been having this on my mind\n  For a long time\n  I just want it to be\n  You and me\n  Like It used to be, Baby\n  But ya don't know how to act\n  So matter of fact\n  [Chorus]\n  I think ya better call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  And Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)\n  You need to Call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  And tell him I said come on\n  Now everytime I ask you for a little cash\n  You say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass\n  Oh, Well hold up\n  Listen partna\n  I ain't no cheap thrill\n  Cause Miss Badu is always comin' for real\n  And you know the deal\n  Everytime we go somewhere\n  I gotta reach down in my purse\n  To pay your way and your homeboys way\n  And sometimes your cousin's way\n  They don't never have to pay\n  Don't have no cars\n  Hang around in bars\n  Try to hang around with stars\n  Like Badu\n  I'm gon' tell you the truth\n  Show and prove\n  Or get the boot\n  I think ya better, (Erykah Badu-He, he he)\n  (Call Him)\n  And tell him come on\n  Help you get your shit\n  You need to call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  [Erykah Badu]\"Hold On\"\n  But ya can't use my phone\n"},{"id":15543696,"name":"Hold Your Head Up","trackName":"Hold Your Head Up","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":215.562449,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah\nShit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\nBerserk for a nigga, huh?\nBitch, you're all good\nI got the force behind me\nMay the force be with us\nYeah, the force of life\nIt's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n\nHey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\nNever try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\nIdentify yourself, walking in my perimeter\nI get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\nWho's willing to (willing to) try to step to\nTall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\nDante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\nGrew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\nBut now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\nWith bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n\n(Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\nI should have listened to what my mom say\nPolice squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n\nHold your head, boy, I know it's hard\nYou hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\nHold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\nHold your head, boy\nYou know a nigga got your back\n\n(You gotta hold on, pa)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\nI can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\nCan't decide right from wrong, nights are long\nSeem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\nIt's like a therapy part two, you know that\nI go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\nThat's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\nIs some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n\nHere, here\nMeditate on this, son\nWhat the hell?\nWhen the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\nIt's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\nThink I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\nI know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n\nGot me holding heat again\nJust came home, fighting with police again\nSon, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\nI ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\nThe whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\nThat's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\nFeel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\nMake me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n\nHold your head, boy, I know it's hard\nYou hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\nHold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\nHold your head, boy\n\nWithout you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\nThere will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\nThat's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n\nHold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\nKeep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\nThings are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\nAfter a while\n\nHold your head up high\nDon't let life get you down\nWe're always go together\nI promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\nI promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n\nOh, mama\nOh, I miss you, baby\nI'm gonna make you a one proud man\nI'm gonna do the best I can\nI got the weight on my shoulder\nAnd I'm getting much older\nNo time to waste, this road I've got to face\nI'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\nI'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n\nHold your head up\nHold your head up high","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.99] Yeah\n[00:05.57] Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n[00:08.45] Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n[00:09.80] Bitch, you're all good\n[00:11.50] I got the force behind me\n[00:12.54] May the force be with us\n[00:14.11] Yeah, the force of life\n[00:17.57] It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n[00:20.30] Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n[00:23.27] Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n[00:25.69] Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n[00:28.44] I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n[00:31.01] Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n[00:33.72] Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n[00:36.19] Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n[00:38.51] Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n[00:41.32] But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n[00:43.80] With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n[00:46.33] (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n[00:47.45] I should have listened to what my mom say\n[00:49.01] Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n[00:52.02] Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n[00:53.82] You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n[00:56.76] Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n[00:58.82] Hold your head, boy\n[00:59.87] You know a nigga got your back\n[01:01.51] (You gotta hold on, pa)\n[01:02.70] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n[01:04.55] I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n[01:07.19] Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n[01:09.89] Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n[01:11.96] It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n[01:14.45] I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n[01:17.34] That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n[01:19.84] Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n[01:22.25] Here, here\n[01:23.09] Meditate on this, son\n[01:24.14] What the hell?\n[01:25.12] When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n[01:27.87] It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n[01:30.23] Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n[01:32.53] I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n[01:34.34] Got me holding heat again\n[01:35.47] Just came home, fighting with police again\n[01:37.78] Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n[01:40.49] I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n[01:43.38] The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n[01:45.43] That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n[01:48.12] Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n[01:50.79] Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n[01:54.39] Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n[01:55.30] You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n[01:58.10] Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n[02:01.07] Hold your head, boy\n[02:01.94] Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n[02:04.36] There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n[02:07.92] That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n[02:13.05] Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n[02:16.46] Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n[02:19.69] Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n[02:21.77] After a while\n[02:23.57] Hold your head up high\n[02:25.78] Don't let life get you down\n[02:29.56] We're always go together\n[02:31.93] I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n[02:37.11] I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n[02:49.05] Oh, mama\n[02:51.54] Oh, I miss you, baby\n[02:55.19] I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n[03:00.15] I'm gonna do the best I can\n[03:05.70] I got the weight on my shoulder\n[03:08.82] And I'm getting much older\n[03:11.59] No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n[03:15.94] I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n[03:20.69] I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n[03:27.06] Hold your head up\n[03:28.74] Hold your head up high\n[03:32.87] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Hold Your Head Up\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 215562\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah\n  start_ms: 2990\n  end_ms: 5570\n- text: Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n  start_ms: 5570\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 9800\n- text: Bitch, you're all good\n  start_ms: 9800\n  end_ms: 11500\n- text: I got the force behind me\n  start_ms: 11500\n  end_ms: 12540\n- text: May the force be with us\n  start_ms: 12540\n  end_ms: 14110\n- text: Yeah, the force of life\n  start_ms: 14110\n  end_ms: 17570\n- text: It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n  start_ms: 17570\n  end_ms: 20300\n- text: Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n  start_ms: 20300\n  end_ms: 23270\n- text: Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n  start_ms: 23270\n  end_ms: 25690\n- text: Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n  start_ms: 25690\n  end_ms: 28440\n- text: I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n  start_ms: 28440\n  end_ms: 31010\n- text: Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n  start_ms: 31010\n  end_ms: 33720\n- text: Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n  start_ms: 33720\n  end_ms: 36190\n- text: Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n  start_ms: 36190\n  end_ms: 38510\n- text: Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n  start_ms: 38510\n  end_ms: 41320\n- text: But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n  start_ms: 41320\n  end_ms: 43800\n- text: With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n  start_ms: 43800\n  end_ms: 46330\n- text: (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n  start_ms: 46330\n  end_ms: 47450\n- text: I should have listened to what my mom say\n  start_ms: 47450\n  end_ms: 49010\n- text: Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n  start_ms: 49010\n  end_ms: 52020\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  start_ms: 52020\n  end_ms: 53820\n- text: You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  start_ms: 53820\n  end_ms: 56760\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n  start_ms: 56760\n  end_ms: 58820\n- text: Hold your head, boy\n  start_ms: 58820\n  end_ms: 59870\n- text: You know a nigga got your back\n  start_ms: 59870\n  end_ms: 61510\n- text: (You gotta hold on, pa)\n  start_ms: 61510\n  end_ms: 62700\n- text: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n  start_ms: 62700\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67190\n- text: Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n  start_ms: 67190\n  end_ms: 69890\n- text: Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n  start_ms: 69890\n  end_ms: 71960\n- text: It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n  start_ms: 71960\n  end_ms: 74450\n- text: I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n  start_ms: 74450\n  end_ms: 77340\n- text: That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n  start_ms: 77340\n  end_ms: 79840\n- text: Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n  start_ms: 79840\n  end_ms: 82250\n- text: Here, here\n  start_ms: 82250\n  end_ms: 83090\n- text: Meditate on this, son\n  start_ms: 83090\n  end_ms: 84140\n- text: What the hell?\n  start_ms: 84140\n  end_ms: 85120\n- text: When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n  start_ms: 85120\n  end_ms: 87870\n- text: It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n  start_ms: 87870\n  end_ms: 90230\n- text: Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n  start_ms: 90230\n  end_ms: 92530\n- text: I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n  start_ms: 92530\n  end_ms: 94340\n- text: Got me holding heat again\n  start_ms: 94340\n  end_ms: 95470\n- text: Just came home, fighting with police again\n  start_ms: 95470\n  end_ms: 97780\n- text: Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n  start_ms: 97780\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 103380\n- text: The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n  start_ms: 103380\n  end_ms: 105430\n- text: That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n  start_ms: 105430\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 110790\n- text: Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n  start_ms: 110790\n  end_ms: 114390\n- text: Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  start_ms: 114390\n  end_ms: 115300\n- text: You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  start_ms: 115300\n  end_ms: 118100\n- text: Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n  start_ms: 118100\n  end_ms: 121070\n- text: Hold your head, boy\n  start_ms: 121070\n  end_ms: 121940\n- text: Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n  start_ms: 121940\n  end_ms: 124360\n- text: There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n  start_ms: 124360\n  end_ms: 127920\n- text: That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n  start_ms: 127920\n  end_ms: 133050\n- text: Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n  start_ms: 133050\n  end_ms: 136460\n- text: Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n  start_ms: 136460\n  end_ms: 139690\n- text: Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n  start_ms: 139690\n  end_ms: 141770\n- text: After a while\n  start_ms: 141770\n  end_ms: 143570\n- text: Hold your head up high\n  start_ms: 143570\n  end_ms: 145780\n- text: Don't let life get you down\n  start_ms: 145780\n  end_ms: 149560\n- text: We're always go together\n  start_ms: 149560\n  end_ms: 151930\n- text: I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n  start_ms: 151930\n  end_ms: 157110\n- text: I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n  start_ms: 157110\n  end_ms: 169050\n- text: Oh, mama\n  start_ms: 169050\n  end_ms: 171540\n- text: Oh, I miss you, baby\n  start_ms: 171540\n  end_ms: 175190\n- text: I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n  start_ms: 175190\n  end_ms: 180150\n- text: I'm gonna do the best I can\n  start_ms: 180150\n  end_ms: 185700\n- text: I got the weight on my shoulder\n  start_ms: 185700\n  end_ms: 188820\n- text: And I'm getting much older\n  start_ms: 188820\n  end_ms: 191590\n- text: No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n  start_ms: 191590\n  end_ms: 195940\n- text: I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n  start_ms: 195940\n  end_ms: 200690\n- text: I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n  start_ms: 200690\n  end_ms: 207060\n- text: Hold your head up\n  start_ms: 207060\n  end_ms: 208740\n- text: Hold your head up high\n  start_ms: 208740\n  end_ms: 212870\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212870\nplain: |-\n  Yeah\n  Shit been berserk for a nigga these past few months, you know\n  Berserk for a nigga, huh?\n  Bitch, you're all good\n  I got the force behind me\n  May the force be with us\n  Yeah, the force of life\n  It's all good, it got to get worse before it get better\n\n  Hey yo, I never lie, rhymes is knives, ready to sever guys\n  Never try, that nigga Ruckus'll fucking let it fly\n  Identify yourself, walking in my perimeter\n  I get rid of ya with two shots from the Dillinger\n  Who's willing to (willing to) try to step to\n  Tall Sean? I wet you, that's my word to my nephew\n  Dante, word is bond, listen to what the Gods say\n  Grew up the hard way, wearing mad clothes from Conway's\n  But now the Gods say dip then hide when the traum blaze\n  With bum bitches that run tricks like fucking card games\n\n  (Hey yo, cops, son, cops, son)\n  I should have listened to what my mom say\n  Police squads, they harass me, never a calm day\n\n  Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  Hold your head, boy, I know this shit's so bad\n  Hold your head, boy\n  You know a nigga got your back\n\n  (You gotta hold on, pa)\n  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'ma try\n  I can't lie, I'm kinda fucked up since my momma died (word)\n  Can't decide right from wrong, nights are long\n  Seem like Big Ruck have a fight with Sean\n  It's like a therapy part two, you know that\n  I go to the doctor for advice, he keep giving me Prozac\n  That's so wack, the only thing that Sean deserve\n  Is some weed, money, and pussy to calm my nerve\n\n  Here, here\n  Meditate on this, son\n  What the hell?\n  When the going gets tough? The tough puff L's\n  It's a known fact, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger\n  Think I'ma let you quit? You dead wrong, bruh\n  I know shit's berserk (shit is crazy)\n\n  Got me holding heat again\n  Just came home, fighting with police again\n  Son, they testing me, but never let 'em get the best of me\n  I ain't even do shit, plus I been stashed the weapon, see?\n  The whole world a broke fool, it ain't cool\n  That's why in the Ninety now, the rules are fuck the rules\n  Feel like I'm psychic watching all the shit, I dream again\n  Make me wish I never dream, let the madness begin\n\n  Hold your head, boy, I know it's hard\n  You hold the weight of the planet, it's your job, you God\n  Hold your head, boy, do it for M.F.C\n  Hold your head, boy\n\n  Without you, there would be no me (hold your head up)\n  There will be no me, it's Bon Jovi, it's Bon Jovi (I know it gets hard sometimes)\n  That's why, we livin', we here together for a motherfuckin' reason (but it gets easier after a while)\n\n  Hold your head up high (yeah, word up, it'll always get worse before it get better)\n  Keep your face to the sky (you know what I'm sayin'?)\n  Things are gonna get better (how fucked up this shit been)\n  After a while\n\n  Hold your head up high\n  Don't let life get you down\n  We're always go together\n  I promise we'll make it by (we'll make it by)\n  I promise we'll make it by (hold your head up, keep your head up)\n\n  Oh, mama\n  Oh, I miss you, baby\n  I'm gonna make you a one proud man\n  I'm gonna do the best I can\n  I got the weight on my shoulder\n  And I'm getting much older\n  No time to waste, this road I've got to face\n  I'm gonna face it head up, I ain't gonna let it get me down\n  I'm gon' keep on keeping on, keep my feet on solid ground\n\n  Hold your head up\n  Hold your head up high\n"},{"id":24883870,"name":"2 Keys (skit)","trackName":"2 Keys (skit)","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":63.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-Beep- -phone dialing- -phone ringing\n-Sniff\nYeah?\nHey yo son, man wake the fuck up man\nYo, yo, yo\nSon I got beef with two keys son\nYou got beef with who?\nTwo keys son\nYou got beat for two keys?\nThat's my word, it's bond, son come on\nI'm downstairs, I'm downstairs right now\nAlright let me kick this bitch out\nGet the fuck out man, come on man, come on man\nI ain't leaving the head man, shut up, I'm coming\nI'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, shut up\nMotherfucker nigga\nThe fuck is blue cheese? And why you got beef with him anyway?\nLock the door girl\nFucking, this crazy\nThe fuck is this nigga at?\nYo, come on nigga\nAight, aight\nCome on, come on, get in this shit man, let's get the fuck outta here\nAight, aight, aight, shut up man, aight\nFuck\nThe fuck is blue cheese anyway?","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2 Keys (skit)\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 63000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  -Beep- -phone dialing- -phone ringing\n  -Sniff\n  Yeah?\n  Hey yo son, man wake the fuck up man\n  Yo, yo, yo\n  Son I got beef with two keys son\n  You got beef with who?\n  Two keys son\n  You got beat for two keys?\n  That's my word, it's bond, son come on\n  I'm downstairs, I'm downstairs right now\n  Alright let me kick this bitch out\n  Get the fuck out man, come on man, come on man\n  I ain't leaving the head man, shut up, I'm coming\n  I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming, shut up\n  Motherfucker nigga\n  The fuck is blue cheese? And why you got beef with him anyway?\n  Lock the door girl\n  Fucking, this crazy\n  The fuck is this nigga at?\n  Yo, come on nigga\n  Aight, aight\n  Come on, come on, get in this shit man, let's get the fuck outta here\n  Aight, aight, aight, shut up man, aight\n  Fuck\n  The fuck is blue cheese anyway?\n"},{"id":24313479,"name":"I Ain't Havin That","trackName":"I Ain't Havin That","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":230.74525,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"They don't like us\nWord up\nThey don't like us\nThey ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\nStarang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\nHangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\nSmoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\nStop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n(Now, by all means)\nI do a show in New Orleans\nAnd get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n(Starang, we been missin' you)\nLast year ATL we almost got physical\n\nI can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n(While y'all up in D&D)\nI caught two and three stitches\nI was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\nIn the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\nI wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\nAiyo, shit goes down\nTime to throw down, show up this a showdown\nSo, down low, now, I'm low down\nHold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\nBlow down ya whole town first go round\n\nYo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\nWhen I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\nLay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\nShut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\nTired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\nNow, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\nAct like you know now\nWe could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nShit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\nThen turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\nI ain't got to brag because I did it\nRun before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\nOn these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\nI ain't got to front, I make it happen\nStrictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\nHead all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\nYo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\nFirst of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\nI ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\nRun yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n(Why?)\n\nWhy ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\nFour horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n(Speed)\nLike a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\nDo the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\nBitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\nWord is bond Jovi B you wildin'\nMy dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n(My dick)\n\nSon, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nRun up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nU.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nWe could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nYo, yo, where ya at?\nTo all my peoples Hennessey passed off\nGive a toast to my whole MFC\nWhile you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\nWit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\nWhen I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\nFor my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\nWe miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\nI gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\nU.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\nEat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\nMFC keep it cookin'\n(Keep it cookin')\n\nWe emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\nRock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\nKeep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n(Now, we blow the spot)\n\nArmed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\nYou niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\nDoin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n(We ain't havin' that)\n\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\nI ain't havin' that\n\nYou don't got no wins in mi casa\nMy shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\nFrom hilshire I still fire from helicopters\nWatch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\nClock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\nMet you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\nKnocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\nSent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\nYo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\nY'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nAnd if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, you know they can't stand me\n'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\nRan for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\nThey be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\nCould it be my name or my big gold chain?\nNow, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\nI got niggaz on the West coast\n(West side)\n\nThat meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\nIn business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\nTell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\nWarned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\nWilliam H. word up\n\nAnd if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nYou just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\nSon, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n(I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\nHere's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\nAnd when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.53] They don't like us\n[00:11.95] Word up\n[00:16.40] They don't like us\n[00:17.31] They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n[00:18.24] Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n[00:21.90] Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n[00:22.84] Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n[00:25.52] Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n[00:28.27] (Now, by all means)\n[00:29.21] I do a show in New Orleans\n[00:31.03] And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n[00:31.92] (Starang, we been missin' you)\n[00:32.83] Last year ATL we almost got physical\n[00:35.51] I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n[00:37.34] (While y'all up in D&D)\n[00:38.28] I caught two and three stitches\n[00:40.10] I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n[00:41.98] In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n[00:44.68] I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n[00:47.35] Aiyo, shit goes down\n[00:48.34] Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n[00:50.19] So, down low, now, I'm low down\n[00:51.04] Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n[00:53.71] Blow down ya whole town first go round\n[00:56.49] Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n[00:58.35] When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n[01:01.02] Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n[01:04.62] Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n[01:06.54] Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n[01:08.39] Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n[01:11.04] Act like you know now\n[01:12.88] We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n[01:15.55] I ain't havin' that\n[01:17.44] I ain't havin' that\n[01:18.39] I ain't havin' that\n[01:20.19] I ain't havin' that\n[01:21.05] Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n[01:22.84] Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n[01:26.41] I ain't got to brag because I did it\n[01:28.33] Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n[01:30.16] On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n[01:32.85] I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n[01:34.65] Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n[01:37.40] Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n[01:40.16] Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n[01:41.90] First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n[01:44.69] I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n[01:47.36] Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n[01:49.28] (Why?)\n[01:50.17] Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n[01:52.82] Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n[01:57.32] (Speed)\n[02:00.07] Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n[02:01.06] Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n[02:02.84] Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n[02:03.76] Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n[02:05.51] My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n[02:07.36] (My dick)\n[02:08.28] Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n[02:10.16] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:12.85] Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n[02:15.53] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:17.34] U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n[02:20.90] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:21.98] We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n[02:25.54] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[02:26.49] Yo, yo, where ya at?\n[02:27.33] To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n[02:30.08] Give a toast to my whole MFC\n[02:31.81] While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n[02:34.66] Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n[02:37.35] When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n[02:40.06] For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n[02:40.92] We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n[02:43.75] I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n[02:46.43] U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n[02:48.22] Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n[02:50.94] MFC keep it cookin'\n[02:51.90] (Keep it cookin')\n[02:53.70] We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n[02:54.61] Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n[02:58.22] Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n[03:00.03] (Now, we blow the spot)\n[03:01.89] Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n[03:05.58] You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n[03:08.27] Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n[03:10.05] (We ain't havin' that)\n[03:11.80] I ain't havin' that\n[03:12.73] I ain't havin' that\n[03:14.54] I ain't havin' that\n[03:16.46] I ain't havin' that\n[03:17.39] I ain't havin' that\n[03:18.28] You don't got no wins in mi casa\n[03:19.10] My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n[03:20.09] From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n[03:20.96] Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n[03:24.54] Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n[03:26.39] Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n[03:29.19] Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n[03:31.83] Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n[03:34.50] Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n[03:37.36] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:38.29] Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n[03:41.87] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n[03:42.79] Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n[03:46.34] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:47.20] And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n[03:50.91] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[03:51.89] Son, you know they can't stand me\n[03:53.61] 'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n[03:55.42] Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n[03:57.20] They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n[04:00.03] 'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n[04:02.75] Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n[04:04.50] Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n[04:07.22] I got niggaz on the West coast\n[04:08.12] (West side)\n[04:09.15] That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n[04:12.72] In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n[04:14.56] Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n[04:17.21] Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n[04:20.09] William H. word up\n[04:20.95] And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n[04:24.58] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:25.50] You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n[04:29.06] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:30.04] Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n[04:33.64] (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n[04:35.44] Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n[04:39.04] And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n[04:46.38] 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n[04:54.54] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I Ain't Havin That\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 230745\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 5530\n  end_ms: 11950\n- text: Word up\n  start_ms: 11950\n  end_ms: 16400\n- text: They don't like us\n  start_ms: 16400\n  end_ms: 17310\n- text: They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n  start_ms: 17310\n  end_ms: 18240\n- text: Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  start_ms: 18240\n  end_ms: 21900\n- text: Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  start_ms: 21900\n  end_ms: 22840\n- text: Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  start_ms: 22840\n  end_ms: 25520\n- text: Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n  start_ms: 25520\n  end_ms: 28270\n- text: (Now, by all means)\n  start_ms: 28270\n  end_ms: 29210\n- text: I do a show in New Orleans\n  start_ms: 29210\n  end_ms: 31030\n- text: And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  start_ms: 31030\n  end_ms: 31920\n- text: (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  start_ms: 31920\n  end_ms: 32830\n- text: Last year ATL we almost got physical\n  start_ms: 32830\n  end_ms: 35510\n- text: I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  start_ms: 35510\n  end_ms: 37340\n- text: (While y'all up in D&D)\n  start_ms: 37340\n  end_ms: 38280\n- text: I caught two and three stitches\n  start_ms: 38280\n  end_ms: 40100\n- text: I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  start_ms: 40100\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44680\n- text: I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n  start_ms: 44680\n  end_ms: 47350\n- text: Aiyo, shit goes down\n  start_ms: 47350\n  end_ms: 48340\n- text: Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  start_ms: 48340\n  end_ms: 50190\n- text: So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  start_ms: 50190\n  end_ms: 51040\n- text: Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  start_ms: 51040\n  end_ms: 53710\n- text: Blow down ya whole town first go round\n  start_ms: 53710\n  end_ms: 56490\n- text: Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  start_ms: 56490\n  end_ms: 58350\n- text: When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  start_ms: 58350\n  end_ms: 61020\n- text: Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  start_ms: 61020\n  end_ms: 64620\n- text: Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n  start_ms: 64620\n  end_ms: 66540\n- text: Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  start_ms: 66540\n  end_ms: 68390\n- text: Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  start_ms: 68390\n  end_ms: 71040\n- text: Act like you know now\n  start_ms: 71040\n  end_ms: 72880\n- text: We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n  start_ms: 72880\n  end_ms: 75550\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 75550\n  end_ms: 77440\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 77440\n  end_ms: 78390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 78390\n  end_ms: 80190\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 80190\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82840\n- text: Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  start_ms: 82840\n  end_ms: 86410\n- text: I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  start_ms: 86410\n  end_ms: 88330\n- text: Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n  start_ms: 88330\n  end_ms: 90160\n- text: On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  start_ms: 90160\n  end_ms: 92850\n- text: I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  start_ms: 92850\n  end_ms: 94650\n- text: Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  start_ms: 94650\n  end_ms: 97400\n- text: Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n  start_ms: 97400\n  end_ms: 100160\n- text: Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  start_ms: 100160\n  end_ms: 101900\n- text: First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  start_ms: 101900\n  end_ms: 104690\n- text: I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  start_ms: 104690\n  end_ms: 107360\n- text: Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  start_ms: 107360\n  end_ms: 109280\n- text: (Why?)\n  start_ms: 109280\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 112820\n- text: Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  start_ms: 112820\n  end_ms: 117320\n- text: (Speed)\n  start_ms: 117320\n  end_ms: 120070\n- text: Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n  start_ms: 120070\n  end_ms: 121060\n- text: Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  start_ms: 121060\n  end_ms: 122840\n- text: Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  start_ms: 122840\n  end_ms: 123760\n- text: Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  start_ms: 123760\n  end_ms: 125510\n- text: My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  start_ms: 125510\n  end_ms: 127360\n- text: (My dick)\n  start_ms: 127360\n  end_ms: 128280\n- text: Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  start_ms: 128280\n  end_ms: 130160\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 130160\n  end_ms: 132850\n- text: Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  start_ms: 132850\n  end_ms: 135530\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 135530\n  end_ms: 137340\n- text: U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 137340\n  end_ms: 140900\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 140900\n  end_ms: 141980\n- text: We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 141980\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 146490\n- text: Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  start_ms: 146490\n  end_ms: 147330\n- text: To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  start_ms: 147330\n  end_ms: 150080\n- text: Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  start_ms: 150080\n  end_ms: 151810\n- text: While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n  start_ms: 151810\n  end_ms: 154660\n- text: Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  start_ms: 154660\n  end_ms: 157350\n- text: When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  start_ms: 157350\n  end_ms: 160060\n- text: For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  start_ms: 160060\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163750\n- text: I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n  start_ms: 163750\n  end_ms: 166430\n- text: U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  start_ms: 166430\n  end_ms: 168220\n- text: Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  start_ms: 168220\n  end_ms: 170940\n- text: MFC keep it cookin'\n  start_ms: 170940\n  end_ms: 171900\n- text: (Keep it cookin')\n  start_ms: 171900\n  end_ms: 173700\n- text: We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  start_ms: 173700\n  end_ms: 174610\n- text: Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  start_ms: 174610\n  end_ms: 178220\n- text: Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  start_ms: 178220\n  end_ms: 180030\n- text: (Now, we blow the spot)\n  start_ms: 180030\n  end_ms: 181890\n- text: Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  start_ms: 181890\n  end_ms: 185580\n- text: You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  start_ms: 185580\n  end_ms: 188270\n- text: Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  start_ms: 188270\n  end_ms: 190050\n- text: (We ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 190050\n  end_ms: 191800\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 191800\n  end_ms: 192730\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 192730\n  end_ms: 194540\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 194540\n  end_ms: 196460\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 196460\n  end_ms: 197390\n- text: I ain't havin' that\n  start_ms: 197390\n  end_ms: 198280\n- text: You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  start_ms: 198280\n  end_ms: 199100\n- text: My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  start_ms: 199100\n  end_ms: 200090\n- text: From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  start_ms: 200090\n  end_ms: 200960\n- text: Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n  start_ms: 200960\n  end_ms: 204540\n- text: Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  start_ms: 204540\n  end_ms: 206390\n- text: Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  start_ms: 206390\n  end_ms: 209190\n- text: Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  start_ms: 209190\n  end_ms: 211830\n- text: Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n  start_ms: 211830\n  end_ms: 214500\n- text: Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 214500\n  end_ms: 217360\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 217360\n  end_ms: 218290\n- text: Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  start_ms: 218290\n  end_ms: 221870\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n  start_ms: 221870\n  end_ms: 222790\n- text: Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  start_ms: 222790\n  end_ms: 226340\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 226340\n  end_ms: 227200\n- text: And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  start_ms: 227200\n  end_ms: 230910\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 230910\n  end_ms: 231890\n- text: Son, you know they can't stand me\n  start_ms: 231890\n  end_ms: 233610\n- text: '''Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami'\n  start_ms: 233610\n  end_ms: 235420\n- text: Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  start_ms: 235420\n  end_ms: 237200\n- text: They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n  start_ms: 237200\n  end_ms: 240030\n- text: '''Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin'' me'\n  start_ms: 240030\n  end_ms: 242750\n- text: Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  start_ms: 242750\n  end_ms: 244500\n- text: Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  start_ms: 244500\n  end_ms: 247220\n- text: I got niggaz on the West coast\n  start_ms: 247220\n  end_ms: 248120\n- text: (West side)\n  start_ms: 248120\n  end_ms: 249150\n- text: That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  start_ms: 249150\n  end_ms: 252720\n- text: In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  start_ms: 252720\n  end_ms: 254560\n- text: Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  start_ms: 254560\n  end_ms: 257210\n- text: Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  start_ms: 257210\n  end_ms: 260090\n- text: William H. word up\n  start_ms: 260090\n  end_ms: 260950\n- text: And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  start_ms: 260950\n  end_ms: 264580\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 264580\n  end_ms: 265500\n- text: You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 265500\n  end_ms: 269060\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 269060\n  end_ms: 270040\n- text: Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  start_ms: 270040\n  end_ms: 273640\n- text: (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  start_ms: 273640\n  end_ms: 275440\n- text: Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n  start_ms: 275440\n  end_ms: 279040\n- text: And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  start_ms: 279040\n  end_ms: 286380\n- text: 98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n  start_ms: 286380\n  end_ms: 294540\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 294540\nplain: |-\n  They don't like us\n  Word up\n  They don't like us\n  They ain't gotta like us fuck them son\n\n  Starang forever like Wu Tang my crew brings drama\n  Hangin' your ass upside down by ya shoe strings\n  Smoke, tell 'em how we doin' this\n  Stop the whole shit just to big up my newness\n\n  (Now, by all means)\n  I do a show in New Orleans\n  And get wit b'out it 'bout it Mystikal\n  (Starang, we been missin' you)\n  Last year ATL we almost got physical\n\n  I can't talk, now, read about it in the interview\n  (While y'all up in D&D)\n  I caught two and three stitches\n  I was still gettin' bitches in the tunnel takin' pictures\n  In the mazda listenin' to 'Kris, I Got Next'\n  I wanted hot sex, so I ran and got the Lex\n\n  Aiyo, shit goes down\n  Time to throw down, show up this a showdown\n  So, down low, now, I'm low down\n  Hold down the fort, now wit a fo' pound\n  Blow down ya whole town first go round\n\n  Yo smile'll quickly be switched, bitch, and you'll frown\n  When I dig in ya pockets and take all the dope out\n  Lay ya gold out now and don't pronounce one word\n  Shut the fuck up, probably cryin' hold down\n\n  Tired of punk asses, takin' shit for a joke\n  Now, watch you'll pounce gat pointed at yo door\n  Act like you know now\n  We could be so foul, shake your hand, run up in ya bitch, no doubt\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  Shit, yo' game be asses, I got two passes to the Baja\n  Then turn into night we fuck, yo' cars superthug privilege\n  I ain't got to brag because I did it\n  Run before the rap when I was scrappin'\n\n  On these motherfuckin' mean streets of Brownsville gun clappin'\n  I ain't got to front, I make it happen\n  Strictly snappin' necks, strictly macs and techs\n  Head all night over, deuce, deuce, the feds\n\n  Yo, matter fact, here's a list of some of the shit I ain't havin'\n  First of all there won't be no more talkin' out yo' ass, man\n  I ain't havin' no back stabbin', I ain't havin' shit\n  Run yo' mouth, you get smacked in it, why? Why?\n  (Why?)\n\n  Why ask? Why say goodbye to mister nice guy? Say hi to the bad guy\n  Four horsemen head the magnum force, man, rip you get lit the fuck up\n  (Speed)\n  Like a spliff of human torch, man, this shit scorchin'\n\n  Do the research your feet hurt from half-steppin'\n  Bitin' my shit a make your teeth hurt\n  Word is bond Jovi B you wildin'\n  My dick don't stay out, my high stop ridin'\n  (My dick)\n\n  Son, niggaz tryin' ta beat me in the head wit gats fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Run up in the piece think you gone dead that fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  U.S. Marshall's at my crib, tryin' ta take me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  We could take it ol' school at 3, meet me in the back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Yo, yo, where ya at?\n  To all my peoples Hennessey passed off\n  Give a toast to my whole MFC\n  While you clowns waitin', Ruck is shakin' the foundation\n\n  Wit some groundbreakin' shit that'll leave the town thinking\n  When I cock back my pistol, drop back and whistle\n  For my niggas to hold me down because this here 'bout to get hit dude\n  We miss you, stick a niggas roll and his fool clique\n  I gotta full clip for you and all of ya bull\n\n  U.S. Marshall and your little, whittle, when left is caught up on my pillow\n  Eat a dick between 2 slices of bread, you fuckin' fag\n  MFC keep it cookin'\n  (Keep it cookin')\n\n  We emerge wit the blue print to plan my escape from central Brooklyn\n  Rock, pick the lock, Ruck, bust the sha sha\n  Keep with the blast CC4 to blow the door\n  (Now, we blow the spot)\n\n  Armed and dedicated semi under rated, fuck it, to me dated by a wip ass\n  You niggaz lick ass, we blast gas pletal freak mass\n  Doin' the Macarana over 2 pounds of hash\n  (We ain't havin' that)\n\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n  I ain't havin' that\n\n  You don't got no wins in mi casa\n  My shit's proper, you still suckin' my kielbasa\n  From hilshire I still fire from helicopters\n  Watch the birdie, I heard him tell the tale to the coppers\n\n  Clock ya comin' from the precinct singin' operas\n  Met you at ya crib from the blind side, I dropped ya\n  Knocked ya, teeth out ya mouth when I popped ya\n  Sent you upstate to get a gun from ya poppa\n\n  Yo, live niggaz on the wall, write that smoke, crack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Yo, ya smack me and I smack you back fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin that)\n\n  Y'all niggaz think y'all gon' come around here flashin' track, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  And if you niggaz owe me dough, besta get my trap, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, you know they can't stand me\n  'Cuz my crew pack heat like Miami\n  Ran for these rappaz outside of the Grammy's\n  They be killin' me, how they willingly be grillin' me\n\n  'Cuz they shorty wop just be feelin' me\n  Could it be my name or my big gold chain?\n  Now, when we in the airport on our way to soul train\n  I got niggaz on the West coast\n  (West side)\n\n  That meet me at the airport, carryin' weed in they trench coats\n  In business class, eatin' French toast and coffee\n  Tell the stewardess to back up off me we on y'all\n  Warned ya but y'all still couldn't wait for the all-time great\n  William H. word up\n\n  And if ya call and I'm not home then you can call me back, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  You just can't smoke if you ain't put in for the sack, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n\n  Son, don't fuck her raw, here's a jimmy hat, fuck that\n  (I ain't havin' that, I ain't havin' that)\n  Here's a tic-tac, your breath smell like ass crack, fuck that\n\n  And when you know that when you're MFC, you're MFC for life\n  98 shit, Willam H. Duren, Doc Holiday\n"},{"id":24157351,"name":"2 Keys II","trackName":"2 Keys II","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":21.368163,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, never did tell me, who the hell is Blue Cheese anyway?\nNigga, ain't no fuckin'—what are you talkin' 'bout Blue Cheese, man?\nYou ain't say that you had beef with Blue Cheese?\nNigga, I got beef for two keys\nOh\nGet that shit out your motherfuckin' mind\nTalkin' to me when I'm sleep, nigga, fuck snotting on me\nI know the nigga, though, son, on the real\nFuck the nigga, I don't give a fuck who he is\nWhatever, nigga, he beat you, he beat you\nWe can see that, nigga, just drive","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2 Keys II\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 21368\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, never did tell me, who the hell is Blue Cheese anyway?\n  Nigga, ain't no fuckin'—what are you talkin' 'bout Blue Cheese, man?\n  You ain't say that you had beef with Blue Cheese?\n  Nigga, I got beef for two keys\n  Oh\n  Get that shit out your motherfuckin' mind\n  Talkin' to me when I'm sleep, nigga, fuck snotting on me\n  I know the nigga, though, son, on the real\n  Fuck the nigga, I don't give a fuck who he is\n  Whatever, nigga, he beat you, he beat you\n  We can see that, nigga, just drive\n"},{"id":24665281,"name":"2 Keys III","trackName":"2 Keys III","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":49.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, this is the-- The, this the crib right here?\nRight here, son\nOh, fuck\nThis fucking nigga live right here, man\nWhat's he doing, man?\nWho the fuck?\nYo\nWho that?\nOpen the fucking door, man\nYou know who the fuck this is, man\nAll right, man\nMotherfucker\nYo\nYo, hold up, baby\nYo\nHey, motherfucker, yo\nYo\nYo\nHey\nYo\nCalm the shit the fuck down\nCalm the fuck- Yo\nYo\nCalm the fuck down\nYo\nYo\nShut the fuck up\nEverybody\nYo\nYo\nYo\nShut the fuck up\nYo\nWhere the fuck is my two keys at, yo?\nHuh?\nFuck is my shit at, pa?\nWhat you talkin' about, yo?\nFucking- My fucking keys, yo\nThat's what I'm talking about, man\nWhy?\nYou better talk now\nTalk\nOpen up now\nMan, get the fuck outta here, man\nYeah\nWe out\nLet's go","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2 Keys III\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 49000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo, this is the-- The, this the crib right here?\n  Right here, son\n  Oh, fuck\n  This fucking nigga live right here, man\n  What's he doing, man?\n  Who the fuck?\n  Yo\n  Who that?\n  Open the fucking door, man\n  You know who the fuck this is, man\n  All right, man\n  Motherfucker\n  Yo\n  Yo, hold up, baby\n  Yo\n  Hey, motherfucker, yo\n  Yo\n  Yo\n  Hey\n  Yo\n  Calm the shit the fuck down\n  Calm the fuck- Yo\n  Yo\n  Calm the fuck down\n  Yo\n  Yo\n  Shut the fuck up\n  Everybody\n  Yo\n  Yo\n  Yo\n  Shut the fuck up\n  Yo\n  Where the fuck is my two keys at, yo?\n  Huh?\n  Fuck is my shit at, pa?\n  What you talkin' about, yo?\n  Fucking- My fucking keys, yo\n  That's what I'm talking about, man\n  Why?\n  You better talk now\n  Talk\n  Open up now\n  Man, get the fuck outta here, man\n  Yeah\n  We out\n  Let's go\n"},{"id":23140578,"name":"M.F.C. Lawz","trackName":"M.F.C. Lawz","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah\nHelter Skelter\nOutlaws\nWhat?\nMCs from '9\nWhat?\nYeah\nYo, I spit the vocab\nWhile most fags go grab notepads and brag about they bitch coach bag\nI'm laying in the cut ready to blast and twist\nAny nigga who be thinking I'm a pacifist, yo, ask your disc\nKnow you couldn't last in this\nWhen your ass felt the force of the Magnum, bitch\nYo, drag his shit\nHead nigga out the car\nSmack him up with the heater, give his face a scar\nHate when y'all niggas try to disrespect\nTechniques next week, I'ma disconnect\nYour fucking head off your shoulder with a dread coming over\nBoom Bap pit pulling mad shit from his holster\nSmack you with accurate lyrics, blow your transistor\nOn your radio they don't know shit about the inflictor\nKnow y'all niggas slept on me so I crept on\nThe ave, did the math, left more buried than Stefan\nGet y'all\nDo the best in this hemisphere\nAnd if there's any nigga that disagree, then send him here\nMany years I've been putting motherfucking plenty fear\nIn the heart of these bitch ass niggas with my semi tear\nWe be the B-double O-T-C-A\nHey\nWho we be?\nW-T-L-A-W-T\nLiving this hell like the skelter, who can I trust?\nMoving most of us wasn't as vibe we got among us\nI'm sick of niggas living legal so we got some outlaws\nSwitching south paws\nMad niggas gonna get punched in the mouth paws\nI got y'all\nGot the skills and tactics 'cause you're average\nStraight up faggots, my mac spit'll make a nigga backflip\nAttack shit like some full-blooded pits for sick\nWith Timbs aimed at your ribs and have you gasping for wind\nMade men with a vengeance, I make you late for attendance\nKnock you so stupid niggas couldn't complete full sentences\nWe live this, every single day, full speed, full breed, thug seed\nFuck with this, you bleed\nAin't no escaping, bet that, boy, I'm Alcatraz\nOut for cash\nRight, we riders out to blast\nOriginal gun clap niggas\nFuck these rap niggas\nAnd these rats out for cheese, we trying to mousetrap niggas\nWhen the heat is on, gather all my soldiers to perform\nIf you ain't down for the cause, you can keep the fuck on\nYou see, the moral of the song is get paid and move on\nIf you ain't down for the cause, you can get the fuck on\nCrooked Compton politicians trying to lead the people on\nY'all ain't down for the cause, you can get the fuck on\nEvery day I wake, thank the Lord I made it to the morn'\nIf it's on, let's get it on, and you can get the fuck on\n5:49 In the AM, situation mayhem\nTook his last step, crooked game, watch his life end\nBuried him\nIn the game, no rules, no pause\nHelter Skelter made the call to them Thug Nation Outlaws\nFinal call, if you ain't, where you fall\nHit 'em up one by one, crew by crew, fuck 'em all\nBlaze up on me, stay tall\nSteady eye, perfect shot\nYou got a nine-inch, bitch?\nI got a nine hollow bot\nTouchy spot on some payback shit, for y'all can pop\nYou make enemies for life and I ain't stopping till you got\nShit is hot like the weed spot on Amsterdam\nConsume your main man, destroy your whole clan, left you in fear some\nNow fears to this, let Jehovah be your witness\nAnother life to fill the mission minus the hit list\nThat's the wicked seed, washed in the blood I bleed\nOn some real war shit, moving sets solidly\nWe operating under the Thug Laws since warriors\nDoc Holiday, let's touch 'em up\nThey get out of line, we're gonna fuck 'em up\nThey talk too much, we gonna burn 'em up\nYo, Napoleon, why these niggas tripping?\nGreasy bastards won't catch us slipping\nBreeze in Cali, know I dip it\nTriggers make a real nigga rip it\nWhat makes you parasites, I ain't living\nRight for my poor dead big dog life\nLet your true lies, these two guys stick you up like broken blinds\nThey spineless, MFC Outlaws are timeless\nWith bitch niggas behind us, better strategize to find us\nOr find yourself and your health championship I deny ya\nYou brought your mama fail but I brought you\nPlayed them cards you dealt, fuck your best\nI let your chest rest in piss\nNever this, never leave no evidence\nCover this, kill you for them presidents\nOutlaws\nAnd they never say forever ride\nWhy not?\nMad as fuck 'cause I ain't hit the bar\n'Cause I'm being bi\nLike I'm y'all know, I'm representing for my young soldiers\nNo doubt we carrying a torch till this whole shit is over\nOver, over, over\nB-double O-T-C-A\nWho we be?\nW-T-L-A-W-T\nWho we be?\nW-T-L-A-W-T\nWho we be?\nW-T-L-A-W-T\nWho we be?\nNigga, you don't like what the fuck you hearing?\nYou keep the fuck on\nSlugs leave your monkey ass gone\nMakaveli rest in peace\nKill at the cop, thug in peace\nRule out\nDirty soul in here, nigga","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: M.F.C. Lawz\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah\n  Helter Skelter\n  Outlaws\n  What?\n  MCs from '9\n  What?\n  Yeah\n  Yo, I spit the vocab\n  While most fags go grab notepads and brag about they bitch coach bag\n  I'm laying in the cut ready to blast and twist\n  Any nigga who be thinking I'm a pacifist, yo, ask your disc\n  Know you couldn't last in this\n  When your ass felt the force of the Magnum, bitch\n  Yo, drag his shit\n  Head nigga out the car\n  Smack him up with the heater, give his face a scar\n  Hate when y'all niggas try to disrespect\n  Techniques next week, I'ma disconnect\n  Your fucking head off your shoulder with a dread coming over\n  Boom Bap pit pulling mad shit from his holster\n  Smack you with accurate lyrics, blow your transistor\n  On your radio they don't know shit about the inflictor\n  Know y'all niggas slept on me so I crept on\n  The ave, did the math, left more buried than Stefan\n  Get y'all\n  Do the best in this hemisphere\n  And if there's any nigga that disagree, then send him here\n  Many years I've been putting motherfucking plenty fear\n  In the heart of these bitch ass niggas with my semi tear\n  We be the B-double O-T-C-A\n  Hey\n  Who we be?\n  W-T-L-A-W-T\n  Living this hell like the skelter, who can I trust?\n  Moving most of us wasn't as vibe we got among us\n  I'm sick of niggas living legal so we got some outlaws\n  Switching south paws\n  Mad niggas gonna get punched in the mouth paws\n  I got y'all\n  Got the skills and tactics 'cause you're average\n  Straight up faggots, my mac spit'll make a nigga backflip\n  Attack shit like some full-blooded pits for sick\n  With Timbs aimed at your ribs and have you gasping for wind\n  Made men with a vengeance, I make you late for attendance\n  Knock you so stupid niggas couldn't complete full sentences\n  We live this, every single day, full speed, full breed, thug seed\n  Fuck with this, you bleed\n  Ain't no escaping, bet that, boy, I'm Alcatraz\n  Out for cash\n  Right, we riders out to blast\n  Original gun clap niggas\n  Fuck these rap niggas\n  And these rats out for cheese, we trying to mousetrap niggas\n  When the heat is on, gather all my soldiers to perform\n  If you ain't down for the cause, you can keep the fuck on\n  You see, the moral of the song is get paid and move on\n  If you ain't down for the cause, you can get the fuck on\n  Crooked Compton politicians trying to lead the people on\n  Y'all ain't down for the cause, you can get the fuck on\n  Every day I wake, thank the Lord I made it to the morn'\n  If it's on, let's get it on, and you can get the fuck on\n  5:49 In the AM, situation mayhem\n  Took his last step, crooked game, watch his life end\n  Buried him\n  In the game, no rules, no pause\n  Helter Skelter made the call to them Thug Nation Outlaws\n  Final call, if you ain't, where you fall\n  Hit 'em up one by one, crew by crew, fuck 'em all\n  Blaze up on me, stay tall\n  Steady eye, perfect shot\n  You got a nine-inch, bitch?\n  I got a nine hollow bot\n  Touchy spot on some payback shit, for y'all can pop\n  You make enemies for life and I ain't stopping till you got\n  Shit is hot like the weed spot on Amsterdam\n  Consume your main man, destroy your whole clan, left you in fear some\n  Now fears to this, let Jehovah be your witness\n  Another life to fill the mission minus the hit list\n  That's the wicked seed, washed in the blood I bleed\n  On some real war shit, moving sets solidly\n  We operating under the Thug Laws since warriors\n  Doc Holiday, let's touch 'em up\n  They get out of line, we're gonna fuck 'em up\n  They talk too much, we gonna burn 'em up\n  Yo, Napoleon, why these niggas tripping?\n  Greasy bastards won't catch us slipping\n  Breeze in Cali, know I dip it\n  Triggers make a real nigga rip it\n  What makes you parasites, I ain't living\n  Right for my poor dead big dog life\n  Let your true lies, these two guys stick you up like broken blinds\n  They spineless, MFC Outlaws are timeless\n  With bitch niggas behind us, better strategize to find us\n  Or find yourself and your health championship I deny ya\n  You brought your mama fail but I brought you\n  Played them cards you dealt, fuck your best\n  I let your chest rest in piss\n  Never this, never leave no evidence\n  Cover this, kill you for them presidents\n  Outlaws\n  And they never say forever ride\n  Why not?\n  Mad as fuck 'cause I ain't hit the bar\n  'Cause I'm being bi\n  Like I'm y'all know, I'm representing for my young soldiers\n  No doubt we carrying a torch till this whole shit is over\n  Over, over, over\n  B-double O-T-C-A\n  Who we be?\n  W-T-L-A-W-T\n  Who we be?\n  W-T-L-A-W-T\n  Who we be?\n  W-T-L-A-W-T\n  Who we be?\n  Nigga, you don't like what the fuck you hearing?\n  You keep the fuck on\n  Slugs leave your monkey ass gone\n  Makaveli rest in peace\n  Kill at the cop, thug in peace\n  Rule out\n  Dirty soul in here, nigga\n"},{"id":11325154,"name":"Call Tyrone (skit)","trackName":"Call Tyrone (skit)","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":91.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"[Erykah]\"I'm a test this out on y'all right quick.Now keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit.(ha ha ha)Sistahs how yall doin.Brothaz yall alright\"\n\"Lets See How Ya'll Groove to this\"\n\"Alright\"\nI'm gettin' tired of your shit\nYou don't never buy me nothin'\nSee Everytime you come around\nYou got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone\nSee why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes\nSee I've been having this on my mind\nFor a long time\nI just want it to be\nYou and me\nLike It used to be, Baby\nBut ya don't know how to act\nSo matter of fact\n[Chorus]\nI think ya better call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\nAnd Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)\nYou need to Call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\nAnd tell him I said come on\nNow everytime I ask you for a little cash\nYou say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass\nOh, Well hold up\nListen partna\nI ain't no cheap thrill\nCause Miss Badu is always comin' for real\nAnd you know the deal\nEverytime we go somewhere\nI gotta reach down in my purse\nTo pay your way and your homeboys way\nAnd sometimes your cousin's way\nThey don't never have to pay\nDon't have no cars\nHang around in bars\nTry to hang around with stars\nLike Badu\nI'm gon' tell you the truth\nShow and prove\nOr get the boot\nI think ya better, (Erykah Badu-He, he he)\n(Call Him)\nAnd tell him come on\nHelp you get your shit\nYou need to call Tyrone\n(Call Him)\n[Erykah Badu]\"Hold On\"\nBut ya can't use my phone","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Call Tyrone (skit)\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 91000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  [Erykah]\"I'm a test this out on y'all right quick.Now keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my shit.(ha ha ha)Sistahs how yall doin.Brothaz yall alright\"\n  \"Lets See How Ya'll Groove to this\"\n  \"Alright\"\n  I'm gettin' tired of your shit\n  You don't never buy me nothin'\n  See Everytime you come around\n  You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone\n  See why can't we be by ourselves, sometimes\n  See I've been having this on my mind\n  For a long time\n  I just want it to be\n  You and me\n  Like It used to be, Baby\n  But ya don't know how to act\n  So matter of fact\n  [Chorus]\n  I think ya better call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  And Tell him come on, Help you get your Shit (Come On, Come on)\n  You need to Call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  And tell him I said come on\n  Now everytime I ask you for a little cash\n  You say no and turn right around and ask me for some ass\n  Oh, Well hold up\n  Listen partna\n  I ain't no cheap thrill\n  Cause Miss Badu is always comin' for real\n  And you know the deal\n  Everytime we go somewhere\n  I gotta reach down in my purse\n  To pay your way and your homeboys way\n  And sometimes your cousin's way\n  They don't never have to pay\n  Don't have no cars\n  Hang around in bars\n  Try to hang around with stars\n  Like Badu\n  I'm gon' tell you the truth\n  Show and prove\n  Or get the boot\n  I think ya better, (Erykah Badu-He, he he)\n  (Call Him)\n  And tell him come on\n  Help you get your shit\n  You need to call Tyrone\n  (Call Him)\n  [Erykah Badu]\"Hold On\"\n  But ya can't use my phone\n"},{"id":10493703,"name":"Black Fonzirelliz","trackName":"Black Fonzirelliz","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":206.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"* 22 seconds of skit before lyrics *\n\n(ruck)\nAiyyo I'm sean price, I'm six foot one\nDark skinned, stocky build, with a big gun\nSix sons on the ones with the lump sums\nStick guns, get funds, make your chick run\nMy chick done said she like the way I toke blunts\nDrink liquor write scriptures and my gold fronts\nPlus the way my pants hang make her wonder how\nMy baggy jeans stay up, baby I'm well endowed\nSee it's all, I know you wasn't expectin that\nOr figure ruck messin with chicks makin executive trap\nThey get better than that, she don't care who I bomb\nLong as I treat her right and bring my black ass home\n\n(rock)\nHehehehehehe, look at shorty right there\n* whistling * I'm baggin that son\n\nHey, the name is alban baby, but call me what you wanna\nNowhere near, I blew up some call me rockness monstah\nI'm the, heathen you was warned about by your momma\nThat'll never love you as much as I love my marijuana\nHang out from sundown to sun up, startin a ton of drama\nWith thugs, snake me one time they will harm ya\nStill you goodie-goodie chicks be all attracted to my karma\nLet's be friends some other time right now I'm tryin to get behind ya\nShe responded, she better stop listenin to momma\nLove my rugged steez and my whole aura was the bomber\nAsked to see my scar and taxed it, felt my six pack then asked\nIf she could drink it, blew my grill before I hit that\nHehehehehe\n\n(ruck)\nStroh's? all that then?\nC'mon man, that ain't no good girl\nWhat's wrong with you man?\n\n(rock)\nIs you stupid?\nThat is a good girl bwoyy!\n\n(ruck)\nI know I got a good woman, on my team\nI used to have five chicken and I tricked mad cream\nBut the first one I met yo she was actin wack\nAnd the second one got dissed cause she was smokin smack\nBut the third was a herb, you could tell that she's\nOn some bull, cause she flipped when she smelled my weed\nBut the fourth one, heard the pj's looked mean\nGot with the fifth chick, because she couldn't clean\n\n(rock)\nMy question is, why do nice chicks love rugged dudes?\nThe whole thought puzzles me, I'm just glad they do\nThey got they own little -- \"i like these upside down 304's\"\nSilly rabbit -- tricks give up all they do\nNot i, hell nah yo, check my track record, bravo\nDon't eat coochie shorty understand I'm too macho\nDaytime act like saints -- but they can't fool me\nG the freak come out of them at night like we whodini\nHehehehehe, \"the freaks come out at night\"\n\n(ruck)\nTell you somethin about freaks dog, yaknahmean?\nSup, shorty, yo, word up son\nI met shorty on the ave son\nRight there by white castle\nWord she talkin bout 40 dollars son\nI was like man, I gave her two dollars right and I said\n\"yo, you take one? right, and brush your teeth first\"\nHahahaha, yaknahmsayin after she did that\n\n(rock)\nMan you stupid man, get out of here, get out of here, yo\nBig up to all my black fonzirelliz in the house\nFirst of all me, big sexy, alban d'traz\nMy man sean peeeee, he a black fonzirelli\nMy man wiliam h, definitely a black fonzirelli\nKnahmean? benjamin grand, black man he get the girl\nBlack fonzirelli are these days, knahmean?\nBlack fonzirelli get the ass (no he ain't!)\nHe do I'm sayin, he do what he do son, knowhati'msayin?\nThe black fonzirelli.","syncedLyrics":"[00:02.86] * 22 seconds of skit before lyrics *\n[00:20.70] (ruck)\n[00:22.37] Aiyyo I'm sean price, I'm six foot one\n[00:25.23] Dark skinned, stocky build, with a big gun\n[00:27.76] Six sons on the ones with the lump sums\n[00:30.66] Stick guns, get funds, make your chick run\n[00:33.21] My chick done said she like the way I toke blunts\n[00:35.89] Drink liquor write scriptures and my gold fronts\n[00:38.34] Plus the way my pants hang make her wonder how\n[00:40.82] My baggy jeans stay up, baby I'm well endowed\n[00:43.37] See it's all, I know you wasn't expectin that\n[00:46.42] Or figure ruck messin with chicks makin executive trap\n[00:49.43] They get better than that, she don't care who I bomb\n[00:51.24] Long as I treat her right and bring my black ass home\n[00:54.03] (rock)\n[00:54.49] Hehehehehehe, look at shorty right there\n[00:56.79] * whistling * I'm baggin that son\n[00:58.79] Hey, the name is alban baby, but call me what you wanna\n[01:02.16] Nowhere near, I blew up some call me rockness monstah\n[01:04.86] I'm the, heathen you was warned about by your momma\n[01:07.33] That'll never love you as much as I love my marijuana\n[01:10.14] Hang out from sundown to sun up, startin a ton of drama\n[01:12.55] With thugs, snake me one time they will harm ya\n[01:15.32] Still you goodie-goodie chicks be all attracted to my karma\n[01:18.07] Let's be friends some other time right now I'm tryin to get behind ya\n[01:20.68] She responded, she better stop listenin to momma\n[01:23.20] Love my rugged steez and my whole aura was the bomber\n[01:26.04] Asked to see my scar and taxed it, felt my six pack then asked\n[01:29.20] If she could drink it, blew my grill before I hit that\n[01:31.27] Hehehehehe\n[01:32.36] (ruck)\n[01:33.07] Stroh's? all that then?\n[01:34.97] C'mon man, that ain't no good girl\n[01:36.63] What's wrong with you man?\n[01:38.30] (rock)\n[01:38.73] Is you stupid?\n[01:39.60] That is a good girl bwoyy!\n[01:41.32] (ruck)\n[01:42.23] I know I got a good woman, on my team\n[01:44.74] I used to have five chicken and I tricked mad cream\n[01:47.64] But the first one I met yo she was actin wack\n[01:50.01] And the second one got dissed cause she was smokin smack\n[01:52.56] But the third was a herb, you could tell that she's\n[01:55.48] On some bull, cause she flipped when she smelled my weed\n[01:57.76] But the fourth one, heard the pj's looked mean\n[02:00.59] Got with the fifth chick, because she couldn't clean\n[02:02.57] (rock)\n[02:03.15] My question is, why do nice chicks love rugged dudes?\n[02:06.08] The whole thought puzzles me, I'm just glad they do\n[02:08.34] They got they own little -- \"i like these upside down 304's\"\n[02:11.02] Silly rabbit -- tricks give up all they do\n[02:12.92] Not i, hell nah yo, check my track record, bravo\n[02:16.68] Don't eat coochie shorty understand I'm too macho\n[02:19.37] Daytime act like saints -- but they can't fool me\n[02:22.04] G the freak come out of them at night like we whodini\n[02:24.56] Hehehehehe, \"the freaks come out at night\"\n[02:29.25] (ruck)\n[02:29.84] Tell you somethin about freaks dog, yaknahmean?\n[02:31.90] Sup, shorty, yo, word up son\n[02:36.06] I met shorty on the ave son\n[02:37.81] Right there by white castle\n[02:39.37] Word she talkin bout 40 dollars son\n[02:41.74] I was like man, I gave her two dollars right and I said\n[02:45.28] \"yo, you take one? right, and brush your teeth first\"\n[02:49.21] Hahahaha, yaknahmsayin after she did that\n[02:52.74] (rock)\n[02:53.82] Man you stupid man, get out of here, get out of here, yo\n[02:59.61] Big up to all my black fonzirelliz in the house\n[03:00.16] First of all me, big sexy, alban d'traz\n[03:02.96] My man sean peeeee, he a black fonzirelli\n[03:06.35] My man wiliam h, definitely a black fonzirelli\n[03:11.51] Knahmean? benjamin grand, black man he get the girl\n[03:15.87] Black fonzirelli are these days, knahmean?\n[03:17.62] Black fonzirelli get the ass (no he ain't!)\n[03:19.69] He do I'm sayin, he do what he do son, knowhati'msayin?\n[03:21.63] The black fonzirelli.\n[03:23.42] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Black Fonzirelliz\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 206000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '* 22 seconds of skit before lyrics *'\n  start_ms: 2860\n  end_ms: 20700\n- text: (ruck)\n  start_ms: 20700\n  end_ms: 22370\n- text: Aiyyo I'm sean price, I'm six foot one\n  start_ms: 22370\n  end_ms: 25230\n- text: Dark skinned, stocky build, with a big gun\n  start_ms: 25230\n  end_ms: 27760\n- text: Six sons on the ones with the lump sums\n  start_ms: 27760\n  end_ms: 30660\n- text: Stick guns, get funds, make your chick run\n  start_ms: 30660\n  end_ms: 33210\n- text: My chick done said she like the way I toke blunts\n  start_ms: 33210\n  end_ms: 35890\n- text: Drink liquor write scriptures and my gold fronts\n  start_ms: 35890\n  end_ms: 38340\n- text: Plus the way my pants hang make her wonder how\n  start_ms: 38340\n  end_ms: 40820\n- text: My baggy jeans stay up, baby I'm well endowed\n  start_ms: 40820\n  end_ms: 43370\n- text: See it's all, I know you wasn't expectin that\n  start_ms: 43370\n  end_ms: 46420\n- text: Or figure ruck messin with chicks makin executive trap\n  start_ms: 46420\n  end_ms: 49430\n- text: They get better than that, she don't care who I bomb\n  start_ms: 49430\n  end_ms: 51240\n- text: Long as I treat her right and bring my black ass home\n  start_ms: 51240\n  end_ms: 54030\n- text: (rock)\n  start_ms: 54030\n  end_ms: 54490\n- text: Hehehehehehe, look at shorty right there\n  start_ms: 54490\n  end_ms: 56790\n- text: '* whistling * I''m baggin that son'\n  start_ms: 56790\n  end_ms: 58790\n- text: Hey, the name is alban baby, but call me what you wanna\n  start_ms: 58790\n  end_ms: 62160\n- text: Nowhere near, I blew up some call me rockness monstah\n  start_ms: 62160\n  end_ms: 64860\n- text: I'm the, heathen you was warned about by your momma\n  start_ms: 64860\n  end_ms: 67330\n- text: That'll never love you as much as I love my marijuana\n  start_ms: 67330\n  end_ms: 70140\n- text: Hang out from sundown to sun up, startin a ton of drama\n  start_ms: 70140\n  end_ms: 72550\n- text: With thugs, snake me one time they will harm ya\n  start_ms: 72550\n  end_ms: 75320\n- text: Still you goodie-goodie chicks be all attracted to my karma\n  start_ms: 75320\n  end_ms: 78070\n- text: Let's be friends some other time right now I'm tryin to get behind ya\n  start_ms: 78070\n  end_ms: 80680\n- text: She responded, she better stop listenin to momma\n  start_ms: 80680\n  end_ms: 83200\n- text: Love my rugged steez and my whole aura was the bomber\n  start_ms: 83200\n  end_ms: 86040\n- text: Asked to see my scar and taxed it, felt my six pack then asked\n  start_ms: 86040\n  end_ms: 89200\n- text: If she could drink it, blew my grill before I hit that\n  start_ms: 89200\n  end_ms: 91270\n- text: Hehehehehe\n  start_ms: 91270\n  end_ms: 92360\n- text: (ruck)\n  start_ms: 92360\n  end_ms: 93070\n- text: Stroh's? all that then?\n  start_ms: 93070\n  end_ms: 94970\n- text: C'mon man, that ain't no good girl\n  start_ms: 94970\n  end_ms: 96630\n- text: What's wrong with you man?\n  start_ms: 96630\n  end_ms: 98300\n- text: (rock)\n  start_ms: 98300\n  end_ms: 98730\n- text: Is you stupid?\n  start_ms: 98730\n  end_ms: 99600\n- text: That is a good girl bwoyy!\n  start_ms: 99600\n  end_ms: 101320\n- text: (ruck)\n  start_ms: 101320\n  end_ms: 102230\n- text: I know I got a good woman, on my team\n  start_ms: 102230\n  end_ms: 104740\n- text: I used to have five chicken and I tricked mad cream\n  start_ms: 104740\n  end_ms: 107640\n- text: But the first one I met yo she was actin wack\n  start_ms: 107640\n  end_ms: 110010\n- text: And the second one got dissed cause she was smokin smack\n  start_ms: 110010\n  end_ms: 112560\n- text: But the third was a herb, you could tell that she's\n  start_ms: 112560\n  end_ms: 115480\n- text: On some bull, cause she flipped when she smelled my weed\n  start_ms: 115480\n  end_ms: 117760\n- text: But the fourth one, heard the pj's looked mean\n  start_ms: 117760\n  end_ms: 120590\n- text: Got with the fifth chick, because she couldn't clean\n  start_ms: 120590\n  end_ms: 122570\n- text: (rock)\n  start_ms: 122570\n  end_ms: 123150\n- text: My question is, why do nice chicks love rugged dudes?\n  start_ms: 123150\n  end_ms: 126080\n- text: The whole thought puzzles me, I'm just glad they do\n  start_ms: 126080\n  end_ms: 128340\n- text: They got they own little -- \"i like these upside down 304's\"\n  start_ms: 128340\n  end_ms: 131020\n- text: Silly rabbit -- tricks give up all they do\n  start_ms: 131020\n  end_ms: 132920\n- text: Not i, hell nah yo, check my track record, bravo\n  start_ms: 132920\n  end_ms: 136680\n- text: Don't eat coochie shorty understand I'm too macho\n  start_ms: 136680\n  end_ms: 139370\n- text: Daytime act like saints -- but they can't fool me\n  start_ms: 139370\n  end_ms: 142040\n- text: G the freak come out of them at night like we whodini\n  start_ms: 142040\n  end_ms: 144560\n- text: Hehehehehe, \"the freaks come out at night\"\n  start_ms: 144560\n  end_ms: 149250\n- text: (ruck)\n  start_ms: 149250\n  end_ms: 149840\n- text: Tell you somethin about freaks dog, yaknahmean?\n  start_ms: 149840\n  end_ms: 151900\n- text: Sup, shorty, yo, word up son\n  start_ms: 151900\n  end_ms: 156060\n- text: I met shorty on the ave son\n  start_ms: 156060\n  end_ms: 157810\n- text: Right there by white castle\n  start_ms: 157810\n  end_ms: 159370\n- text: Word she talkin bout 40 dollars son\n  start_ms: 159370\n  end_ms: 161740\n- text: I was like man, I gave her two dollars right and I said\n  start_ms: 161740\n  end_ms: 165280\n- text: '\"yo, you take one? right, and brush your teeth first\"'\n  start_ms: 165280\n  end_ms: 169210\n- text: Hahahaha, yaknahmsayin after she did that\n  start_ms: 169210\n  end_ms: 172740\n- text: (rock)\n  start_ms: 172740\n  end_ms: 173820\n- text: Man you stupid man, get out of here, get out of here, yo\n  start_ms: 173820\n  end_ms: 179610\n- text: Big up to all my black fonzirelliz in the house\n  start_ms: 179610\n  end_ms: 180160\n- text: First of all me, big sexy, alban d'traz\n  start_ms: 180160\n  end_ms: 182960\n- text: My man sean peeeee, he a black fonzirelli\n  start_ms: 182960\n  end_ms: 186350\n- text: My man wiliam h, definitely a black fonzirelli\n  start_ms: 186350\n  end_ms: 191510\n- text: Knahmean? benjamin grand, black man he get the girl\n  start_ms: 191510\n  end_ms: 195870\n- text: Black fonzirelli are these days, knahmean?\n  start_ms: 195870\n  end_ms: 197620\n- text: Black fonzirelli get the ass (no he ain't!)\n  start_ms: 197620\n  end_ms: 199690\n- text: He do I'm sayin, he do what he do son, knowhati'msayin?\n  start_ms: 199690\n  end_ms: 201630\n- text: The black fonzirelli.\n  start_ms: 201630\n  end_ms: 203420\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 203420\nplain: |-\n  * 22 seconds of skit before lyrics *\n\n  (ruck)\n  Aiyyo I'm sean price, I'm six foot one\n  Dark skinned, stocky build, with a big gun\n  Six sons on the ones with the lump sums\n  Stick guns, get funds, make your chick run\n  My chick done said she like the way I toke blunts\n  Drink liquor write scriptures and my gold fronts\n  Plus the way my pants hang make her wonder how\n  My baggy jeans stay up, baby I'm well endowed\n  See it's all, I know you wasn't expectin that\n  Or figure ruck messin with chicks makin executive trap\n  They get better than that, she don't care who I bomb\n  Long as I treat her right and bring my black ass home\n\n  (rock)\n  Hehehehehehe, look at shorty right there\n  * whistling * I'm baggin that son\n\n  Hey, the name is alban baby, but call me what you wanna\n  Nowhere near, I blew up some call me rockness monstah\n  I'm the, heathen you was warned about by your momma\n  That'll never love you as much as I love my marijuana\n  Hang out from sundown to sun up, startin a ton of drama\n  With thugs, snake me one time they will harm ya\n  Still you goodie-goodie chicks be all attracted to my karma\n  Let's be friends some other time right now I'm tryin to get behind ya\n  She responded, she better stop listenin to momma\n  Love my rugged steez and my whole aura was the bomber\n  Asked to see my scar and taxed it, felt my six pack then asked\n  If she could drink it, blew my grill before I hit that\n  Hehehehehe\n\n  (ruck)\n  Stroh's? all that then?\n  C'mon man, that ain't no good girl\n  What's wrong with you man?\n\n  (rock)\n  Is you stupid?\n  That is a good girl bwoyy!\n\n  (ruck)\n  I know I got a good woman, on my team\n  I used to have five chicken and I tricked mad cream\n  But the first one I met yo she was actin wack\n  And the second one got dissed cause she was smokin smack\n  But the third was a herb, you could tell that she's\n  On some bull, cause she flipped when she smelled my weed\n  But the fourth one, heard the pj's looked mean\n  Got with the fifth chick, because she couldn't clean\n\n  (rock)\n  My question is, why do nice chicks love rugged dudes?\n  The whole thought puzzles me, I'm just glad they do\n  They got they own little -- \"i like these upside down 304's\"\n  Silly rabbit -- tricks give up all they do\n  Not i, hell nah yo, check my track record, bravo\n  Don't eat coochie shorty understand I'm too macho\n  Daytime act like saints -- but they can't fool me\n  G the freak come out of them at night like we whodini\n  Hehehehehe, \"the freaks come out at night\"\n\n  (ruck)\n  Tell you somethin about freaks dog, yaknahmean?\n  Sup, shorty, yo, word up son\n  I met shorty on the ave son\n  Right there by white castle\n  Word she talkin bout 40 dollars son\n  I was like man, I gave her two dollars right and I said\n  \"yo, you take one? right, and brush your teeth first\"\n  Hahahaha, yaknahmsayin after she did that\n\n  (rock)\n  Man you stupid man, get out of here, get out of here, yo\n  Big up to all my black fonzirelliz in the house\n  First of all me, big sexy, alban d'traz\n  My man sean peeeee, he a black fonzirelli\n  My man wiliam h, definitely a black fonzirelli\n  Knahmean? benjamin grand, black man he get the girl\n  Black fonzirelli are these days, knahmean?\n  Black fonzirelli get the ass (no he ain't!)\n  He do I'm sayin, he do what he do son, knowhati'msayin?\n  The black fonzirelli.\n"},{"id":10493695,"name":"Forget Me Knots","trackName":"Forget Me Knots","artistName":"Heltah Skeltah","albumName":"Magnum Force","duration":258.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Ruck)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nI know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n* repeat 2X *\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n(Rock)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz yo I'm still the same\nWon't let the game change me, I'm trying to change the game\nThis shit is mad lame -- hip-hop party rules no jeans, Timbs\nor hoodies or hats, sound like you mean me -- fuck ya!\nYou still get shot up ain't nuttin there but players\nFuck you think? Nigga steppin on your thousand dollar gators\nStupid-asses -- you shook at the site of party crashers\nAt the door actin, like you don't know who Bummy Jab is\nThey tell you Rock, tellin me, \"Don't act no fool\"\n\"You heard of scotch on the rocks?\" I make the whole shit cool\nBut I'ma stay the same ghetto-ass, baggy pants draggin\nDeep rollin heat holdin nigga til I'm triple platinum\n\n(Ruck)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nI know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n(Rock)\nM.F.C.!\nHey hey, that's my partner Price man\nThe whole industry's against him and me\nLike thugs are to death penalties\nbut we got the remedy for all that punk shit\nOne clip up in the macra\nmake wiffleballs out all of you popcorn rappers\nCallin my crew haters, knowin damn well you hate me\nBut scared to stick it to me, knowin damn well I break teeth\nAlcatraz, forever Rock hard, got scars for this rap shit\nGot locked behind bars, fluck the actin\nAll my grimy-ass cannon handlers, standin in the lobbies\nStay forever rowdy, niggaz It's Your World like Bobby\nRob these, cats claimin they got so much cheese\nwhen it's zero degrees and send they monkey-asses home freezin\nReppin for my housin P's and, catch me out in Shaolin\nWhylin with Ghost, Deck, and Tical and them\nBefore I'm out the door big up my Outlaw niggaz\nMy hardcore lovin thirsty out for war niggaz\n\n(Ruck)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nI know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n* repeat 2X *\n\n(Ruck)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nI know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\nNever that, I'm constantly comin with clever raps\nWe sever that, take your head and slap em leather strap\nYou better pack, your gat or the outcome you outdone\nI doubt them, niggaz can fuck with the Ruckus without fun\nAiyyo what this about son? Aiyyo witness a nigga clout son\nTrippin with these chickens and sippin on Guinness Stout son\nWithout them, this nigga who jumped up and asked me\n\"Are you fuckin my sister man?\" when that bitch Butch like Cassidy\nHELL NO, quick fast this man caught the elbow\nShells load, he fell froze, buck stuck like velcro\nHis man yelled, \"Yo, ain't no need to fuckin draw gats,\nwe all black\" Put the gat down, I left his jaw tapped\nI saw that, Duke ain't want no beef in the first place\nJust a gerk face nigga tryin to rep his birthplace\nThe worst case scenario, I leave your ass shot up\nFuck up my rap product and back to crack narcotics\nThe moral of this story is -- there is no moral God\nJust my shit is hard, and if your shit ain't like us\nyouse a fraud, motherfucker\n\n(Rock)\nWord up\nStraight like that\nFuck one of y'all niggaz up\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n(Ruck)\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nI know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n(what, uh-huh, see you in hell motherfucker)\n\nTo all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\nThe game change. but fuck y'all\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\nStill in there, word up\nHeltah Skeltah what the fuck\n\n(Rock)\nChop your motherfuckin hands off and put a Walkman on you\nwith no motherfuckin frequency, nigga\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\nDip your ass in honey\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\nand then just get the flies to? you motherfucker\nYou punk motherfuckers, you sweet sons of bitches\n\n\"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n(Ruck)\nFuckin, onionhead-ass, hardcore shit","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Forget Me Knots\n  artist: Heltah Skeltah\n  album: Magnum Force\n  duration_ms: 258000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  (Ruck)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  I know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n  * repeat 2X *\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  (Rock)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz yo I'm still the same\n  Won't let the game change me, I'm trying to change the game\n  This shit is mad lame -- hip-hop party rules no jeans, Timbs\n  or hoodies or hats, sound like you mean me -- fuck ya!\n  You still get shot up ain't nuttin there but players\n  Fuck you think? Nigga steppin on your thousand dollar gators\n  Stupid-asses -- you shook at the site of party crashers\n  At the door actin, like you don't know who Bummy Jab is\n  They tell you Rock, tellin me, \"Don't act no fool\"\n  \"You heard of scotch on the rocks?\" I make the whole shit cool\n  But I'ma stay the same ghetto-ass, baggy pants draggin\n  Deep rollin heat holdin nigga til I'm triple platinum\n\n  (Ruck)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  I know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  (Rock)\n  M.F.C.!\n  Hey hey, that's my partner Price man\n  The whole industry's against him and me\n  Like thugs are to death penalties\n  but we got the remedy for all that punk shit\n  One clip up in the macra\n  make wiffleballs out all of you popcorn rappers\n  Callin my crew haters, knowin damn well you hate me\n  But scared to stick it to me, knowin damn well I break teeth\n  Alcatraz, forever Rock hard, got scars for this rap shit\n  Got locked behind bars, fluck the actin\n  All my grimy-ass cannon handlers, standin in the lobbies\n  Stay forever rowdy, niggaz It's Your World like Bobby\n  Rob these, cats claimin they got so much cheese\n  when it's zero degrees and send they monkey-asses home freezin\n  Reppin for my housin P's and, catch me out in Shaolin\n  Whylin with Ghost, Deck, and Tical and them\n  Before I'm out the door big up my Outlaw niggaz\n  My hardcore lovin thirsty out for war niggaz\n\n  (Ruck)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  I know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n  * repeat 2X *\n\n  (Ruck)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  I know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n  Never that, I'm constantly comin with clever raps\n  We sever that, take your head and slap em leather strap\n  You better pack, your gat or the outcome you outdone\n  I doubt them, niggaz can fuck with the Ruckus without fun\n  Aiyyo what this about son? Aiyyo witness a nigga clout son\n  Trippin with these chickens and sippin on Guinness Stout son\n  Without them, this nigga who jumped up and asked me\n  \"Are you fuckin my sister man?\" when that bitch Butch like Cassidy\n  HELL NO, quick fast this man caught the elbow\n  Shells load, he fell froze, buck stuck like velcro\n  His man yelled, \"Yo, ain't no need to fuckin draw gats,\n  we all black\" Put the gat down, I left his jaw tapped\n  I saw that, Duke ain't want no beef in the first place\n  Just a gerk face nigga tryin to rep his birthplace\n  The worst case scenario, I leave your ass shot up\n  Fuck up my rap product and back to crack narcotics\n  The moral of this story is -- there is no moral God\n  Just my shit is hard, and if your shit ain't like us\n  youse a fraud, motherfucker\n\n  (Rock)\n  Word up\n  Straight like that\n  Fuck one of y'all niggaz up\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  (Ruck)\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  I know the game change and all of these niggaz wanna switch me\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  (what, uh-huh, see you in hell motherfucker)\n\n  To all my hardcore niggaz don't forget me (don't forget me)\n  The game change. but fuck y'all\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  Still in there, word up\n  Heltah Skeltah what the fuck\n\n  (Rock)\n  Chop your motherfuckin hands off and put a Walkman on you\n  with no motherfuckin frequency, nigga\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  Dip your ass in honey\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  and then just get the flies to? you motherfucker\n  You punk motherfuckers, you sweet sons of bitches\n\n  \"Hardcore, far more than the average\"\n\n  (Ruck)\n  Fuckin, onionhead-ass, hardcore shit\n"}]