[{"id":37555148,"name":"Jay-Z / NYMP","trackName":"Jay-Z / NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Jay-Z / NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 241998\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":39765185,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol.3... The Life And Times Of S. Carter - Jay-Z","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35]Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69]This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48]Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67]Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68]Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66]Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72]Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32]Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65]Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75](Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08]Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96]After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39]Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63]Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78]I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24]Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48]Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76]Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04]Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08]N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37]N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06]Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47]Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07]Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16]Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76]Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33]Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09]I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34]They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15]I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75]No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78]I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84]It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43]Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14]Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10]Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78]Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77]Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42]Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84]Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03]Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81]N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90]Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82]Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54]Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18]I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16]I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12]I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83]You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58]I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20]Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90]Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43]Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47]I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87]Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99]Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23]So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89]I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89]Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16]Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23]Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13]Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85]Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58]Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55]Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99]Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28]Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94]This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56]Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21]Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27]Fuck with me\n[03:48.39]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol.3... The Life And Times Of S. Carter - Jay-Z\n  duration_ms: 242507\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":3625631,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"JAY‐Z","albumName":"Vol. 3… Life and Times of S. Carter","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: JAY‐Z\n  album: Vol. 3… Life and Times of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":3625630,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":4099625,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3… Life And Times Of S. Carter","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3… Life And Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":3984552,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... Life & Times Of S. Carter","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3... Life & Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":6288450,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol.3... The Life And Times Of S. Carter","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol.3... The Life And Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":32344533,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"JAY-Z","albumName":"Volume. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter","duration":242.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: JAY-Z\n  album: Volume. 3... Life and Times of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 242000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":19771748,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3: Life and Times of S. Carter [Clean]","duration":240.5669,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: 'Vol. 3: Life and Times of S. Carter [Clean]'\n  duration_ms: 240567\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":19417418,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3… Life and Times of S. Carter","duration":248.841925,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3… Life and Times of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 248842\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":17918563,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Life & Times Of S. Carter - Vol. 3","duration":242.546939,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Life & Times Of S. Carter - Vol. 3\n  duration_ms: 242547\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":19081937,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol3 - Life And Times Of S Carter","duration":241.2220416,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol3 - Life And Times Of S Carter\n  duration_ms: 241222\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":17771378,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol 3 Life And Times Of S Cart","duration":241.227375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol 3 Life And Times Of S Cart\n  duration_ms: 241227\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":16481754,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... The Life & Times Of S. Carter","duration":242.001575,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3... The Life & Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 242002\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":17318947,"name":"nymp","trackName":"nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3: Life and Times of S.","duration":241.955542,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: 'Vol. 3: Life and Times of S.'\n  duration_ms: 241956\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":14222640,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"JAY‐Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter","duration":241.933333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nthrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nafter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nthey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nno correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\ncause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: JAY‐Z\n  album: Vol. 3... Life And Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 241933\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  after you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  they shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  no correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":25319913,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3: Life and Times of S. Carter [Vinyl]","duration":241.955542,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: 'Vol. 3: Life and Times of S. Carter [Vinyl]'\n  duration_ms: 241956\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":25058477,"name":"Nymp","trackName":"Nymp","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Volume 3: The Life & Times of S Carter","duration":242.001575,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Nymp\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: 'Volume 3: The Life & Times of S Carter'\n  duration_ms: 242002\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":24124907,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"Jay-Z","albumName":"Vol. 3... Life","duration":242.5469387755102,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: Jay-Z\n  album: Vol. 3... Life\n  duration_ms: 242547\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"},{"id":23629534,"name":"NYMP","trackName":"NYMP","artistName":"JAY-Z","albumName":"In My Lifetime Vol. 3... In The Life & Times Of S. Carter","duration":241.992,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\nThis is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\nLife's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\nBlocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\nThrough the potholes and gravel\nHot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\nFoes tryin to pop shots through you by code\nPigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\nThrough the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n(Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\nNot only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\nAfter you, up the avenue\nTryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\nTryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\nI caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\nUp against the wall, tryin to pass through\nGhost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\nMost nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nN.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\nMarcy. Brooklyn.\n\nYo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\nNiggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\nHot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\nCocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\nI'm so confrontational;\nThey shoulda never let me go on probation yo\nI'm a hustler; except that.\nNo correctional facilities can correct that\nI took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\nIt's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\nGotta get away, some try but head back\nUhh, street smart niggaz got left back\nSome died, they left stacks\nMe, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\nJigga been cold as fuck before ice\nNot before Christ, but a long fuckin time\nGet your mind right niggaz\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nN.Y.M.P., the realest\nUh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. feel me.\n\nI looked Death in the face years back\nI held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\nI'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\nYou gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\nI take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\nNot Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\nStill I still pop him\nShit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\nI think big when I spit at you now\nBetween my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\nBetween life and death, they killed my spirit\nSo what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\nI? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\nCause I used to roam them halls\nStill I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\nWho woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\nChorus: Jay-Z\n\nUhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nBrooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\nUhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\nEducated, thug mu-sic niggaz\nThis is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\nReal shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\nMarcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\nFuck with me","syncedLyrics":"[00:05.35] Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n[00:07.69] This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n[00:10.48] Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n[00:13.67] Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n[00:16.68] Through the potholes and gravel\n[00:18.66] Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n[00:21.72] Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n[00:24.32] Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n[00:26.65] Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n[00:29.75] (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n[00:32.08] Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n[00:34.96] After you, up the avenue\n[00:37.39] Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n[00:39.63] Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n[00:42.78] I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n[00:45.24] Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n[00:48.48] Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n[00:50.76] Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n[00:54.04] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[00:58.08] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:02.37] N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[01:06.06] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n[01:10.47] Marcy. Brooklyn.\n[01:14.07] Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n[01:18.16] Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n[01:20.76] Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n[01:23.33] Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n[01:26.09] I'm so confrontational;\n[01:28.34] They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n[01:31.15] I'm a hustler; except that.\n[01:32.75] No correctional facilities can correct that\n[01:36.78] I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n[01:39.84] It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n[01:42.43] Gotta get away, some try but head back\n[01:45.14] Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n[01:47.10] Some died, they left stacks\n[01:49.78] Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n[01:52.77] Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n[01:55.42] Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n[01:58.84] Get your mind right niggaz\n[02:00.03] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[02:01.81] N.Y.M.P., the realest\n[02:06.90] Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[02:11.82] Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[02:15.54] Marcy. feel me.\n[02:19.18] I looked Death in the face years back\n[02:22.16] I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n[02:25.12] I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n[02:27.83] You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n[02:30.58] I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n[02:33.20] Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n[02:34.90] Still I still pop him\n[02:37.43] Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n[02:41.47] I think big when I spit at you now\n[02:43.87] Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n[02:46.99] Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n[02:49.23] So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n[02:52.89] I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n[02:54.89] Cause I used to roam them halls\n[02:57.16] Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n[03:00.23] Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n[03:03.13] Chorus: Jay-Z\n[03:04.85] Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:10.58] Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n[03:14.55] Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:16.99] Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n[03:27.28] Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n[03:30.94] This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n[03:35.56] Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n[03:40.21] Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n[03:42.27] Fuck with me\n[03:48.39] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: NYMP\n  artist: JAY-Z\n  album: In My Lifetime Vol. 3... In The Life & Times Of S. Carter\n  duration_ms: 241992\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  start_ms: 5350\n  end_ms: 7690\n- text: This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n  start_ms: 7690\n  end_ms: 10480\n- text: Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  start_ms: 10480\n  end_ms: 13670\n- text: Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  start_ms: 13670\n  end_ms: 16680\n- text: Through the potholes and gravel\n  start_ms: 16680\n  end_ms: 18660\n- text: Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  start_ms: 18660\n  end_ms: 21720\n- text: Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  start_ms: 21720\n  end_ms: 24320\n- text: Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  start_ms: 24320\n  end_ms: 26650\n- text: Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  start_ms: 26650\n  end_ms: 29750\n- text: (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  start_ms: 29750\n  end_ms: 32080\n- text: Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  start_ms: 32080\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: After you, up the avenue\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37390\n- text: Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  start_ms: 37390\n  end_ms: 39630\n- text: Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  start_ms: 39630\n  end_ms: 42780\n- text: I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  start_ms: 42780\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 48480\n- text: Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  start_ms: 48480\n  end_ms: 50760\n- text: Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n  start_ms: 50760\n  end_ms: 54040\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 54040\n  end_ms: 58080\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 58080\n  end_ms: 62370\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 62370\n  end_ms: 66060\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  start_ms: 66060\n  end_ms: 70470\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn.\n  start_ms: 70470\n  end_ms: 74070\n- text: Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  start_ms: 74070\n  end_ms: 78160\n- text: Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  start_ms: 78160\n  end_ms: 80760\n- text: Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  start_ms: 80760\n  end_ms: 83330\n- text: Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  start_ms: 83330\n  end_ms: 86090\n- text: I'm so confrontational;\n  start_ms: 86090\n  end_ms: 88340\n- text: They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  start_ms: 88340\n  end_ms: 91150\n- text: I'm a hustler; except that.\n  start_ms: 91150\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: No correctional facilities can correct that\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 96780\n- text: I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  start_ms: 96780\n  end_ms: 99840\n- text: It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  start_ms: 99840\n  end_ms: 102430\n- text: Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  start_ms: 102430\n  end_ms: 105140\n- text: Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  start_ms: 105140\n  end_ms: 107100\n- text: Some died, they left stacks\n  start_ms: 107100\n  end_ms: 109780\n- text: Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  start_ms: 109780\n  end_ms: 112770\n- text: Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  start_ms: 112770\n  end_ms: 115420\n- text: Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  start_ms: 115420\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Get your mind right niggaz\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 120030\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 120030\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 126900\n- text: Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 126900\n  end_ms: 131820\n- text: Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 131820\n  end_ms: 135540\n- text: Marcy. feel me.\n  start_ms: 135540\n  end_ms: 139180\n- text: I looked Death in the face years back\n  start_ms: 139180\n  end_ms: 142160\n- text: I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  start_ms: 142160\n  end_ms: 145120\n- text: I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  start_ms: 145120\n  end_ms: 147830\n- text: You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  start_ms: 147830\n  end_ms: 150580\n- text: I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  start_ms: 150580\n  end_ms: 153200\n- text: Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  start_ms: 153200\n  end_ms: 154900\n- text: Still I still pop him\n  start_ms: 154900\n  end_ms: 157430\n- text: Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  start_ms: 157430\n  end_ms: 161470\n- text: I think big when I spit at you now\n  start_ms: 161470\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166990\n- text: Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  start_ms: 166990\n  end_ms: 169230\n- text: So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  start_ms: 169230\n  end_ms: 172890\n- text: I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  start_ms: 172890\n  end_ms: 174890\n- text: Cause I used to roam them halls\n  start_ms: 174890\n  end_ms: 177160\n- text: Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  start_ms: 177160\n  end_ms: 180230\n- text: Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n  start_ms: 180230\n  end_ms: 183130\n- text: 'Chorus: Jay-Z'\n  start_ms: 183130\n  end_ms: 184850\n- text: Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 184850\n  end_ms: 190580\n- text: Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 190580\n  end_ms: 194550\n- text: Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 194550\n  end_ms: 196990\n- text: Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n  start_ms: 196990\n  end_ms: 207280\n- text: Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  start_ms: 207280\n  end_ms: 210940\n- text: This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  start_ms: 210940\n  end_ms: 215560\n- text: Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  start_ms: 215560\n  end_ms: 220210\n- text: Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  start_ms: 220210\n  end_ms: 222270\n- text: Fuck with me\n  start_ms: 222270\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 228390\nplain: |-\n  Geyeah, NYMP the realest, uhh\n  This is educated thug MU-SIC, niggaz\n\n  Life's a battle, mean streets eat you alive\n  Blocks'll have you, tryin to maintain your course\n  Through the potholes and gravel\n  Hot holes and what-have-you, tryin to clock dough\n  Foes tryin to pop shots through you by code\n  Pigs tryin to grab you and lock up your soul\n  Through the Hot Apple, nighttime shots crackle\n  (Bucka bucka bucka) Fiends tryin to gaffle you\n  Not only cokeheads but the Feds in the Mercuray Topaz\n  After you, up the avenue\n  Tryin to give you big numbers, you got math to do\n  Tryin to make you miss summer, shit, that ain't cool\n  I caught smaller cases tryin to get cap or two\n  Up against the wall, tryin to pass through\n  Ghost-like, hear the cries from the tortured souls\n  Most nights, I hold my toast tight, and it goes like\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest\n  Marcy. Brooklyn.\n\n  Yo; I come through, gettin money, sittin on twenties\n  Niggaz throwin me shade, but ain't shit sunny\n  Hot shells only thing niggaz could get from me\n  Cocktails thrown in your living room, KA-BOOM\n  I'm so confrontational;\n  They shoulda never let me go on probation yo\n  I'm a hustler; except that.\n  No correctional facilities can correct that\n  I took a step back, I viewed myself, seen where my head was at\n  It's where that dough is homey, gotta get that\n  Gotta get away, some try but head back\n  Uhh, street smart niggaz got left back\n  Some died, they left stacks\n  Me, I ball right, and on top of that I'm dog nice\n  Jigga been cold as fuck before ice\n  Not before Christ, but a long fuckin time\n  Get your mind right niggaz\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  N.Y.M.P., the realest\n  Uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh uh-huh, uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. feel me.\n\n  I looked Death in the face years back\n  I held tears back, I gathered myself and stared back\n  I'm from where you don't crack, the weak don't live\n  You gotta bounce back homey, the streets don't give\n  I take and rape villages, who gon' stop him?\n  Not Rudy Guiliani, not Hillary Rodham\n  Still I still pop him\n  Shit I grassy knoll and hilltop him, it's all political now\n  I think big when I spit at you now\n  Between my dog and the figures, the four gonna get'cha\n  Between life and death, they killed my spirit\n  So what little life I got left, y'all can expect me to ball\n  I? myself, teacher said I was a lost cause\n  Cause I used to roam them halls\n  Still I spit knowledge, dropped out of high school, skipped college\n  Who woulda thought I'd make it \"Big\" like Ms. Wallace?\n\n  Chorus: Jay-Z\n\n  Uhh, yeah, N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Brooklyn, what? N.Y.M.P., the realest niggaz\n  Uhh, uh-huh-uh-UHH, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy. Brooklyn, N.Y.M.P. the realest, feel me\n\n  Educated, thug mu-sic niggaz\n  This is Brooklyn, this is gangsta, this is project\n  Real shit, N.Y.M.P. the realest niggaz\n  Marcy, Brooklyn, stompin grounds\n  Fuck with me\n"}]