[{"id":38517794,"name":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"Joey Bada$$ Songs","duration":217.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15](\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18]Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39]Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45]Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54]It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35]Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44]My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54]I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88]Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64]Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81]F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77]Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32]Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33]She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94]Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06]Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47]Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39]Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78]Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92]It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02]Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08]And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70]I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36]Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73]My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97]To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52]'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45]And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15]I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78]I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77]Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76]Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07]Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46]Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02]'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41]Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75]Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34]But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48]I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53]Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28]I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15]Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64]And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17]Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07]And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75]Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27]Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16]Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35]Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67]Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12]Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89]You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53]Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65]A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54]Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18]Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93]Danger, danger\n[03:11.62]Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: Joey Bada$$ Songs\n  duration_ms: 217000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":18093025,"name":"FromdaTomb$ (Feat. Chuck Strangers) [Prod. By Chuck Strangers] [Scratches By Statik Selektah]","trackName":"FromdaTomb$ (Feat. Chuck Strangers) [Prod. By Chuck Strangers] [Scratches By Statik Selektah]","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"Joey BADA$$ - 1999","duration":204.910333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.11] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.30] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.55] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.36] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.45] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.58] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.82] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.62] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.83] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.78] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.33] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.31] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.92] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.03] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.48] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.37] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.75] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.99] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.03] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.07] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.16] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.35] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.73] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.35] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.74] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.91] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.56] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.47] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.11] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.75] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.71] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.03] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.41] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.07] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.49] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.79] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.39] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.92] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.83] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.68] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.05] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.44] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.50] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.29] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.12] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.69] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.15] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.02] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.71] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.23] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.19] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.37] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.66] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.14] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.81] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.55] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.60] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.58] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.16] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.98] Danger, danger\n[03:11.64] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.08] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$ (Feat. Chuck Strangers) [Prod. By Chuck Strangers] [Scratches By Statik Selektah]\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: Joey BADA$$ - 1999\n  duration_ms: 204910\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 110\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6300\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6300\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11550\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11550\n  end_ms: 16360\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16360\n  end_ms: 20450\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20450\n  end_ms: 23580\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23580\n  end_ms: 25820\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25820\n  end_ms: 28620\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28620\n  end_ms: 30830\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30830\n  end_ms: 33780\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33780\n  end_ms: 36330\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36330\n  end_ms: 38310\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38310\n  end_ms: 41920\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41920\n  end_ms: 44030\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44030\n  end_ms: 46480\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46480\n  end_ms: 49370\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49370\n  end_ms: 51750\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51750\n  end_ms: 53990\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53990\n  end_ms: 57030\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57030\n  end_ms: 59070\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59070\n  end_ms: 64160\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64160\n  end_ms: 69350\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69350\n  end_ms: 71730\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71730\n  end_ms: 74350\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74350\n  end_ms: 76740\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76740\n  end_ms: 79910\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79910\n  end_ms: 81560\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81560\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92750\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92750\n  end_ms: 95710\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95710\n  end_ms: 98030\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98030\n  end_ms: 100410\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100410\n  end_ms: 103070\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103070\n  end_ms: 105490\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105490\n  end_ms: 107790\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107790\n  end_ms: 111390\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111390\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 123680\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123680\n  end_ms: 129050\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129050\n  end_ms: 133440\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133440\n  end_ms: 136500\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136500\n  end_ms: 139290\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139290\n  end_ms: 141120\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141120\n  end_ms: 143690\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143690\n  end_ms: 146150\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146150\n  end_ms: 149020\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149020\n  end_ms: 150710\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150710\n  end_ms: 154230\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154230\n  end_ms: 157190\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157190\n  end_ms: 159370\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159370\n  end_ms: 162660\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162660\n  end_ms: 164140\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164140\n  end_ms: 166810\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166810\n  end_ms: 169550\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169550\n  end_ms: 171600\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171600\n  end_ms: 176580\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176580\n  end_ms: 182160\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182160\n  end_ms: 184980\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184980\n  end_ms: 191640\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191640\n  end_ms: 196080\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196080\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":3680905,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Go Brooklyn)\nSaid what it's like?\nJoey Bad and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo what's the word word?\nPass the herbs\nCheck\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\nMa you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\nF it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\nCause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\nCause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around\nNow she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on you hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.95] (Go Brooklyn)\n[00:04.19] Said what it's like?\n[00:06.68] Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.33] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:10.96] It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n[00:16.60] Pass the herbs\n[00:18.47] Check\n[00:19.78] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.51] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.77] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n[00:28.30] Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n[00:30.85] F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.54] Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n[00:35.75] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.27] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.57] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:43.84] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.37] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n[00:49.27] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.58] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.53] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:56.23] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:58.38] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:01.86] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:08.03] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.77] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.12] Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.46] My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.70] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.48] Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.33] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.06] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.76] I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.71] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.39] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:37.73] Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n[01:40.32] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:42.27] Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n[01:45.02] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:48.13] Heard this song and turned around\n[01:49.54] Now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.13] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:54.09] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.99] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:04.29] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.06] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:13.36] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:15.83] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.14] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:20.94] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.13] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:25.87] Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n[02:28.58] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.30] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:33.74] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:36.90] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.07] Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.66] Shit on you hypotheses\n[02:44.57] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.57] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:48.93] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:52.30] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:53.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Go Brooklyn)\n  start_ms: 950\n  end_ms: 4190\n- text: Said what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4190\n  end_ms: 6680\n- text: Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6680\n  end_ms: 8330\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8330\n  end_ms: 10960\n- text: It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 10960\n  end_ms: 16600\n- text: Pass the herbs\n  start_ms: 16600\n  end_ms: 18470\n- text: Check\n  start_ms: 18470\n  end_ms: 19780\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 19780\n  end_ms: 23510\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23510\n  end_ms: 25770\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  start_ms: 25770\n  end_ms: 28300\n- text: Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  start_ms: 28300\n  end_ms: 30850\n- text: F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30850\n  end_ms: 33540\n- text: Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33540\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 38270\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38270\n  end_ms: 41570\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41570\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 46370\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46370\n  end_ms: 49270\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49270\n  end_ms: 51580\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51580\n  end_ms: 53530\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53530\n  end_ms: 56230\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 56230\n  end_ms: 58380\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 58380\n  end_ms: 61860\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 61860\n  end_ms: 68030\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 68030\n  end_ms: 71770\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71770\n  end_ms: 74120\n- text: Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74120\n  end_ms: 76460\n- text: My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76460\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 81480\n- text: Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  start_ms: 81480\n  end_ms: 84330\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84330\n  end_ms: 87060\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87060\n  end_ms: 89760\n- text: I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89760\n  end_ms: 92710\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92710\n  end_ms: 95390\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95390\n  end_ms: 97730\n- text: Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  start_ms: 97730\n  end_ms: 100320\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100320\n  end_ms: 102270\n- text: Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  start_ms: 102270\n  end_ms: 105020\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105020\n  end_ms: 108130\n- text: Heard this song and turned around\n  start_ms: 108130\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 111130\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111130\n  end_ms: 114090\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 114090\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 124290\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 124290\n  end_ms: 129060\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 129060\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 139140\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139140\n  end_ms: 140940\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 140940\n  end_ms: 143130\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143130\n  end_ms: 145870\n- text: Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 145870\n  end_ms: 148580\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 148580\n  end_ms: 150300\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150300\n  end_ms: 153740\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 153740\n  end_ms: 156900\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 156900\n  end_ms: 159070\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159070\n  end_ms: 162660\n- text: Shit on you hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162660\n  end_ms: 164570\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164570\n  end_ms: 166570\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166570\n  end_ms: 168930\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 168930\n  end_ms: 172300\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 172300\n  end_ms: 173730\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 173730\nplain: |-\n  (Go Brooklyn)\n  Said what it's like?\n  Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs\n  Check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around\n  Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on you hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n"},{"id":21098273,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":197.418667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Go Brooklyn)\nSaid what it's like?\nJoey Bad and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo what's the word word?\nPass the herbs\nCheck\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\nMa you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\nF it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\nCause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\nCause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around\nNow she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on you hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.95] (Go Brooklyn)\n[00:04.19] Said what it's like?\n[00:06.68] Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.33] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:10.96] It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n[00:16.60] Pass the herbs\n[00:18.47] Check\n[00:19.78] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.51] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.77] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n[00:28.30] Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n[00:30.85] F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.54] Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n[00:35.75] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.27] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.57] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:43.84] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.37] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n[00:49.27] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.58] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.53] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:56.23] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:58.38] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:01.86] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:08.03] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.77] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.12] Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.46] My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.70] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.48] Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.33] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.06] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.76] I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.71] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.39] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:37.73] Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n[01:40.32] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:42.27] Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n[01:45.02] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:48.13] Heard this song and turned around\n[01:49.54] Now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.13] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:54.09] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.99] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:04.29] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.06] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:13.36] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:15.83] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.14] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:20.94] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.13] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:25.87] Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n[02:28.58] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.30] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:33.74] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:36.90] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.07] Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.66] Shit on you hypotheses\n[02:44.57] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.57] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:48.93] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:52.30] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:53.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 197419\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Go Brooklyn)\n  start_ms: 950\n  end_ms: 4190\n- text: Said what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4190\n  end_ms: 6680\n- text: Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6680\n  end_ms: 8330\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8330\n  end_ms: 10960\n- text: It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 10960\n  end_ms: 16600\n- text: Pass the herbs\n  start_ms: 16600\n  end_ms: 18470\n- text: Check\n  start_ms: 18470\n  end_ms: 19780\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 19780\n  end_ms: 23510\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23510\n  end_ms: 25770\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  start_ms: 25770\n  end_ms: 28300\n- text: Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  start_ms: 28300\n  end_ms: 30850\n- text: F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30850\n  end_ms: 33540\n- text: Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33540\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 38270\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38270\n  end_ms: 41570\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41570\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 46370\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46370\n  end_ms: 49270\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49270\n  end_ms: 51580\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51580\n  end_ms: 53530\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53530\n  end_ms: 56230\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 56230\n  end_ms: 58380\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 58380\n  end_ms: 61860\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 61860\n  end_ms: 68030\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 68030\n  end_ms: 71770\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71770\n  end_ms: 74120\n- text: Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74120\n  end_ms: 76460\n- text: My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76460\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 81480\n- text: Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  start_ms: 81480\n  end_ms: 84330\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84330\n  end_ms: 87060\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87060\n  end_ms: 89760\n- text: I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89760\n  end_ms: 92710\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92710\n  end_ms: 95390\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95390\n  end_ms: 97730\n- text: Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  start_ms: 97730\n  end_ms: 100320\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100320\n  end_ms: 102270\n- text: Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  start_ms: 102270\n  end_ms: 105020\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105020\n  end_ms: 108130\n- text: Heard this song and turned around\n  start_ms: 108130\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 111130\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111130\n  end_ms: 114090\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 114090\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 124290\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 124290\n  end_ms: 129060\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 129060\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 139140\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139140\n  end_ms: 140940\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 140940\n  end_ms: 143130\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143130\n  end_ms: 145870\n- text: Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 145870\n  end_ms: 148580\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 148580\n  end_ms: 150300\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150300\n  end_ms: 153740\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 153740\n  end_ms: 156900\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 156900\n  end_ms: 159070\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159070\n  end_ms: 162660\n- text: Shit on you hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162660\n  end_ms: 164570\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164570\n  end_ms: 166570\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166570\n  end_ms: 168930\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 168930\n  end_ms: 172300\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 172300\n  end_ms: 173730\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 173730\nplain: |-\n  (Go Brooklyn)\n  Said what it's like?\n  Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs\n  Check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around\n  Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on you hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n"},{"id":27375880,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":216.58,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Go Brooklyn)\nSaid what it's like?\nJoey Bad and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo what's the word word?\nPass the herbs\nCheck\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\nMa you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\nF it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\nCause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\nCause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around\nNow she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on you hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.95] (Go Brooklyn)\n[00:04.19] Said what it's like?\n[00:06.68] Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.33] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:10.96] It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n[00:16.60] Pass the herbs\n[00:18.47] Check\n[00:19.78] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.51] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.77] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n[00:28.30] Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n[00:30.85] F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.54] Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n[00:35.75] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.27] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.57] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:43.84] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.37] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n[00:49.27] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.58] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.53] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:56.23] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:58.38] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:01.86] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:08.03] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.77] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.12] Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.46] My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.70] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.48] Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.33] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.06] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.76] I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.71] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.39] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:37.73] Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n[01:40.32] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:42.27] Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n[01:45.02] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:48.13] Heard this song and turned around\n[01:49.54] Now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.13] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:54.09] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.99] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:04.29] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.06] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:13.36] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:15.83] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.14] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:20.94] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.13] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:25.87] Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n[02:28.58] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.30] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:33.74] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:36.90] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.07] Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.66] Shit on you hypotheses\n[02:44.57] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.57] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:48.93] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:52.30] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:53.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 216580\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Go Brooklyn)\n  start_ms: 950\n  end_ms: 4190\n- text: Said what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4190\n  end_ms: 6680\n- text: Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6680\n  end_ms: 8330\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8330\n  end_ms: 10960\n- text: It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 10960\n  end_ms: 16600\n- text: Pass the herbs\n  start_ms: 16600\n  end_ms: 18470\n- text: Check\n  start_ms: 18470\n  end_ms: 19780\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 19780\n  end_ms: 23510\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23510\n  end_ms: 25770\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  start_ms: 25770\n  end_ms: 28300\n- text: Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  start_ms: 28300\n  end_ms: 30850\n- text: F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30850\n  end_ms: 33540\n- text: Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33540\n  end_ms: 35750\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 35750\n  end_ms: 38270\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38270\n  end_ms: 41570\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41570\n  end_ms: 43840\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 43840\n  end_ms: 46370\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46370\n  end_ms: 49270\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49270\n  end_ms: 51580\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51580\n  end_ms: 53530\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53530\n  end_ms: 56230\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 56230\n  end_ms: 58380\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 58380\n  end_ms: 61860\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 61860\n  end_ms: 68030\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 68030\n  end_ms: 71770\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71770\n  end_ms: 74120\n- text: Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74120\n  end_ms: 76460\n- text: My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76460\n  end_ms: 79700\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79700\n  end_ms: 81480\n- text: Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  start_ms: 81480\n  end_ms: 84330\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84330\n  end_ms: 87060\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87060\n  end_ms: 89760\n- text: I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89760\n  end_ms: 92710\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92710\n  end_ms: 95390\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95390\n  end_ms: 97730\n- text: Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  start_ms: 97730\n  end_ms: 100320\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100320\n  end_ms: 102270\n- text: Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  start_ms: 102270\n  end_ms: 105020\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105020\n  end_ms: 108130\n- text: Heard this song and turned around\n  start_ms: 108130\n  end_ms: 109540\n- text: Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 109540\n  end_ms: 111130\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111130\n  end_ms: 114090\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 114090\n  end_ms: 118990\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118990\n  end_ms: 124290\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 124290\n  end_ms: 129060\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 129060\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 139140\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139140\n  end_ms: 140940\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 140940\n  end_ms: 143130\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143130\n  end_ms: 145870\n- text: Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 145870\n  end_ms: 148580\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 148580\n  end_ms: 150300\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150300\n  end_ms: 153740\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 153740\n  end_ms: 156900\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 156900\n  end_ms: 159070\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159070\n  end_ms: 162660\n- text: Shit on you hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162660\n  end_ms: 164570\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164570\n  end_ms: 166570\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166570\n  end_ms: 168930\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 168930\n  end_ms: 172300\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 172300\n  end_ms: 173730\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 173730\nplain: |-\n  (Go Brooklyn)\n  Said what it's like?\n  Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs\n  Check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight soba\n  Ma you ain't that girl at giving throat so bye\n  F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around\n  Now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on you hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n"},{"id":2378216,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":36130105,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":217.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 217000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":26099639,"name":"FromdaTomb","trackName":"FromdaTomb","artistName":"Joey Bada$$│Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":204.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.10] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.10] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.36] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.43] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.56] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.33] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.45] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.55] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.67] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.86] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.36] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.91] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.05] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.44] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.38] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.75] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.99] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.13] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.38] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.75] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.33] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.77] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.98] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.55] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.46] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.16] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.75] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.76] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.72] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.09] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.43] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.05] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.44] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.78] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.33] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.92] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.84] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.60] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.08] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.47] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.52] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.23] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.12] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.62] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.19] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.01] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.73] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.28] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.15] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.32] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.63] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.18] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.50] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.63] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.56] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.16] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.99] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.08] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb\n  artist: Joey Bada$$│Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 204000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 100\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6360\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6360\n  end_ms: 8430\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8430\n  end_ms: 11560\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11560\n  end_ms: 16330\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16330\n  end_ms: 20450\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20450\n  end_ms: 23550\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23550\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44050\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44050\n  end_ms: 46440\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46440\n  end_ms: 49380\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49380\n  end_ms: 51750\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51750\n  end_ms: 53990\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53990\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64130\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64130\n  end_ms: 69380\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69380\n  end_ms: 71750\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71750\n  end_ms: 74330\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74330\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79980\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79980\n  end_ms: 81550\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81550\n  end_ms: 84460\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84460\n  end_ms: 87160\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87160\n  end_ms: 89750\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89750\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 98090\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98090\n  end_ms: 100430\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100430\n  end_ms: 103050\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103050\n  end_ms: 105440\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105440\n  end_ms: 107780\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107780\n  end_ms: 111330\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111330\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 123600\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123600\n  end_ms: 129080\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129080\n  end_ms: 133470\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133470\n  end_ms: 136520\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136520\n  end_ms: 139230\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139230\n  end_ms: 141120\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141120\n  end_ms: 143620\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143620\n  end_ms: 146190\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146190\n  end_ms: 149010\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149010\n  end_ms: 150730\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150730\n  end_ms: 154280\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154280\n  end_ms: 157150\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157150\n  end_ms: 159320\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159320\n  end_ms: 162630\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162630\n  end_ms: 164180\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164180\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169500\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169500\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 176560\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176560\n  end_ms: 182160\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182160\n  end_ms: 184990\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184990\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196080\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196080\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":38647344,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":null,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15](\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18]Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39]Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45]Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54]It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35]Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44]My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54]I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88]Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64]Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81]F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77]Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32]Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33]She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94]Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06]Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47]Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39]Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78]Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92]It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02]Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08]And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70]I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36]Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73]My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97]To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52]'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45]And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15]I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78]I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77]Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76]Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07]Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46]Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02]'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41]Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75]Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34]But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02]Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48]I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53]Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28]I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15]Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64]And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17]Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07]And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75]Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27]Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16]Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35]Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67]Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12]Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89]You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53]Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65]A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54]Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18]Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93]Danger, danger\n[03:11.62]Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$, Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":2187898,"name":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":32534788,"name":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":197.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 197000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":9467881,"name":"FromdaTomb Ft. Chuck Strangers","trackName":"FromdaTomb Ft. Chuck Strangers","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb Ft. Chuck Strangers\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":35658442,"name":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":217.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 217000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":2187897,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$ feat. Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$ feat. Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":24874523,"name":"FromdaTomb$","trackName":"FromdaTomb$","artistName":"Joey Bada$$ feat. Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":197.418667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb$\n  artist: Joey Bada$$ feat. Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 197419\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":35732008,"name":"FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$ • Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":204.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.10] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.10] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.36] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.43] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.56] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.33] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.45] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.55] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.67] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.86] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.36] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.91] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.05] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.44] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.38] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.75] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.99] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.13] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.38] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.75] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.33] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.77] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.98] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.55] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.46] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.16] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.75] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.76] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.72] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.09] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.43] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.05] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.44] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.78] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.33] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.92] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.84] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.60] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.08] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.47] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.52] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.23] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.12] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.62] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.19] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.01] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.73] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.28] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.15] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.32] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.63] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.18] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.50] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.63] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.56] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.16] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.99] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.08] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$ • Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 204000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 100\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6360\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6360\n  end_ms: 8430\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8430\n  end_ms: 11560\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11560\n  end_ms: 16330\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16330\n  end_ms: 20450\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20450\n  end_ms: 23550\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23550\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44050\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44050\n  end_ms: 46440\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46440\n  end_ms: 49380\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49380\n  end_ms: 51750\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51750\n  end_ms: 53990\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53990\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64130\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64130\n  end_ms: 69380\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69380\n  end_ms: 71750\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71750\n  end_ms: 74330\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74330\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79980\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79980\n  end_ms: 81550\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81550\n  end_ms: 84460\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84460\n  end_ms: 87160\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87160\n  end_ms: 89750\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89750\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 98090\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98090\n  end_ms: 100430\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100430\n  end_ms: 103050\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103050\n  end_ms: 105440\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105440\n  end_ms: 107780\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107780\n  end_ms: 111330\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111330\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 123600\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123600\n  end_ms: 129080\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129080\n  end_ms: 133470\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133470\n  end_ms: 136520\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136520\n  end_ms: 139230\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139230\n  end_ms: 141120\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141120\n  end_ms: 143620\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143620\n  end_ms: 146190\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146190\n  end_ms: 149010\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149010\n  end_ms: 150730\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150730\n  end_ms: 154280\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154280\n  end_ms: 157150\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157150\n  end_ms: 159320\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159320\n  end_ms: 162630\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162630\n  end_ms: 164180\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164180\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169500\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169500\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 176560\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176560\n  end_ms: 182160\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182160\n  end_ms: 184990\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184990\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196080\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196080\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":38709237,"name":"FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)","trackName":"FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$ Chuck Strangers","albumName":"1999","duration":204.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.10] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.10] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.36] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.43] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.56] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.33] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.45] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.55] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.67] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.86] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.36] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.91] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.05] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.44] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.38] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.75] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.99] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.13] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.38] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.75] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.33] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.77] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.98] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.55] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.46] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.16] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.75] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.76] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.72] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.09] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.43] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.05] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.44] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.78] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.33] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.92] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.84] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.60] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.08] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.47] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.52] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.23] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.12] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.62] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.19] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.01] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.73] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.28] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.15] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.32] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.63] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.18] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.50] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.63] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.56] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.16] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.99] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.08] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$ Chuck Strangers\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 204000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 100\n  end_ms: 4100\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4100\n  end_ms: 6360\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6360\n  end_ms: 8430\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8430\n  end_ms: 11560\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11560\n  end_ms: 16330\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16330\n  end_ms: 20450\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20450\n  end_ms: 23550\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23550\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36360\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36360\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44050\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44050\n  end_ms: 46440\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46440\n  end_ms: 49380\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49380\n  end_ms: 51750\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51750\n  end_ms: 53990\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53990\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64130\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64130\n  end_ms: 69380\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69380\n  end_ms: 71750\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71750\n  end_ms: 74330\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74330\n  end_ms: 76770\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76770\n  end_ms: 79980\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79980\n  end_ms: 81550\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81550\n  end_ms: 84460\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84460\n  end_ms: 87160\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87160\n  end_ms: 89750\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89750\n  end_ms: 92760\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92760\n  end_ms: 95720\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95720\n  end_ms: 98090\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98090\n  end_ms: 100430\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100430\n  end_ms: 103050\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103050\n  end_ms: 105440\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105440\n  end_ms: 107780\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107780\n  end_ms: 111330\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111330\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 123600\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123600\n  end_ms: 129080\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129080\n  end_ms: 133470\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133470\n  end_ms: 136520\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136520\n  end_ms: 139230\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139230\n  end_ms: 141120\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141120\n  end_ms: 143620\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143620\n  end_ms: 146190\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146190\n  end_ms: 149010\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149010\n  end_ms: 150730\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150730\n  end_ms: 154280\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154280\n  end_ms: 157150\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157150\n  end_ms: 159320\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159320\n  end_ms: 162630\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162630\n  end_ms: 164180\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164180\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169500\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169500\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 176560\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176560\n  end_ms: 182160\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182160\n  end_ms: 184990\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184990\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196080\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196080\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"},{"id":3892846,"name":"FromdaTomb Feat Chuck Strangers (Prod By Chuck Strangers Scratches By Statik Selektah)","trackName":"FromdaTomb Feat Chuck Strangers (Prod By Chuck Strangers Scratches By Statik Selektah)","artistName":"Joey Bada$$","albumName":"1999","duration":205.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(\"Go Brooklyn!\")\nSaid, what it's like?\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeave niggas endangered\nIt's the real, yo, what's the word word?\nPass the herbs, check\n\nMy man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\nI rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\nSight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\nMa, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\nF it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\nPlay charades, she actin' like a vacuum\nShowed her to the door before the afternoon\nShe fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\nFake MC's get their reps ruined\nYoung villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\nClick-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\nRaps dope like crack in cocoons\nBack in this mood, back on the move\nIt's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\nPay respect to the cat Drew\nAnd I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\nI'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\nJust remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\nMy nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\nTo the rims, hoes, and gold\n'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\nAnd I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\nI know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\nI know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\nNigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\nGassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\nBitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\nBitch love don't live here no more\n'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\nWeak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\nHeard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\nBut I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\nBig ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\nI got sick of class, started making classics\nNow all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\nI'm sure to blow like bust acid\nPuff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\nAnd I average above average on an average day\nDoing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\nAnd his teacher still pass him\nThough they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\nLike fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\nSubtract some homies then divide the cheese\nDivide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\nShit on your hypotheses\nHypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\nYou can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\nPart the cheese, head out the spot and leave\nA pile of G's for apology\n\nJoey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\nLeaving niggas endangered\nDanger, danger\nJoey Bad' leaving niggas endangered","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.15] (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n[00:04.18] Said, what it's like?\n[00:06.39] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[00:08.45] Leave niggas endangered\n[00:11.54] It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n[00:16.35] Pass the herbs, check\n[00:20.44] My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n[00:23.54] I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n[00:25.88] Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n[00:28.64] Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n[00:30.81] F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n[00:33.77] Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n[00:36.32] Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n[00:38.33] She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n[00:41.94] Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n[00:44.06] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n[00:46.47] Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n[00:49.39] Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n[00:51.78] Back in this mood, back on the move\n[00:53.92] It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n[00:57.02] Pay respect to the cat Drew\n[00:59.08] And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n[01:04.18] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:09.30] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[01:11.70] I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n[01:14.36] Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n[01:16.73] My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n[01:19.97] To the rims, hoes, and gold\n[01:21.52] 'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n[01:24.45] And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n[01:27.15] I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n[01:29.78] I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n[01:32.77] Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n[01:35.76] Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n[01:38.07] Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n[01:40.46] Bitch love don't live here no more\n[01:43.02] 'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n[01:45.41] Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n[01:47.75] Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n[01:51.34] But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n[01:53.98] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[01:58.85] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n[02:03.69] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n[02:09.02] Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n[02:13.48] I got sick of class, started making classics\n[02:16.53] Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n[02:19.28] I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n[02:21.15] Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n[02:23.64] And I average above average on an average day\n[02:26.17] Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n[02:29.07] And his teacher still pass him\n[02:30.75] Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n[02:34.27] Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n[02:37.16] Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n[02:39.35] Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n[02:42.67] Shit on your hypotheses\n[02:44.12] Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n[02:46.89] You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n[02:49.53] Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n[02:51.65] A pile of G's for apology\n[02:56.54] Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n[03:02.18] Leaving niggas endangered\n[03:04.93] Danger, danger\n[03:11.62] Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n[03:16.04] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: FromdaTomb Feat Chuck Strangers (Prod By Chuck Strangers Scratches By Statik Selektah)\n  artist: Joey Bada$$\n  album: '1999'\n  duration_ms: 205000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  start_ms: 150\n  end_ms: 4180\n- text: Said, what it's like?\n  start_ms: 4180\n  end_ms: 6390\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 6390\n  end_ms: 8450\n- text: Leave niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 8450\n  end_ms: 11540\n- text: It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  start_ms: 11540\n  end_ms: 16350\n- text: Pass the herbs, check\n  start_ms: 16350\n  end_ms: 20440\n- text: My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  start_ms: 20440\n  end_ms: 23540\n- text: I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  start_ms: 23540\n  end_ms: 25880\n- text: Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  start_ms: 25880\n  end_ms: 28640\n- text: Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  start_ms: 28640\n  end_ms: 30810\n- text: F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  start_ms: 30810\n  end_ms: 33770\n- text: Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  start_ms: 33770\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38330\n- text: She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n  start_ms: 38330\n  end_ms: 41940\n- text: Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  start_ms: 41940\n  end_ms: 44060\n- text: Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  start_ms: 44060\n  end_ms: 46470\n- text: Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  start_ms: 46470\n  end_ms: 49390\n- text: Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  start_ms: 49390\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Back in this mood, back on the move\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 53920\n- text: It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  start_ms: 53920\n  end_ms: 57020\n- text: Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  start_ms: 57020\n  end_ms: 59080\n- text: And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n  start_ms: 59080\n  end_ms: 64180\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 64180\n  end_ms: 69300\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 69300\n  end_ms: 71700\n- text: I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  start_ms: 71700\n  end_ms: 74360\n- text: Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  start_ms: 74360\n  end_ms: 76730\n- text: My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  start_ms: 76730\n  end_ms: 79970\n- text: To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  start_ms: 79970\n  end_ms: 81520\n- text: '''Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain''t letting go'\n  start_ms: 81520\n  end_ms: 84450\n- text: And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  start_ms: 84450\n  end_ms: 87150\n- text: I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  start_ms: 87150\n  end_ms: 89780\n- text: I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n  start_ms: 89780\n  end_ms: 92770\n- text: Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  start_ms: 92770\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98070\n- text: Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  start_ms: 98070\n  end_ms: 100460\n- text: Bitch love don't live here no more\n  start_ms: 100460\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: '''Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag'\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105410\n- text: Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  start_ms: 105410\n  end_ms: 107750\n- text: Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  start_ms: 107750\n  end_ms: 111340\n- text: But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n  start_ms: 111340\n  end_ms: 113980\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 113980\n  end_ms: 118850\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  start_ms: 118850\n  end_ms: 123690\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  start_ms: 123690\n  end_ms: 129020\n- text: Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n  start_ms: 129020\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: I got sick of class, started making classics\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 136530\n- text: Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  start_ms: 136530\n  end_ms: 139280\n- text: I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  start_ms: 139280\n  end_ms: 141150\n- text: Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  start_ms: 141150\n  end_ms: 143640\n- text: And I average above average on an average day\n  start_ms: 143640\n  end_ms: 146170\n- text: Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  start_ms: 146170\n  end_ms: 149070\n- text: And his teacher still pass him\n  start_ms: 149070\n  end_ms: 150750\n- text: Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n  start_ms: 150750\n  end_ms: 154270\n- text: Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  start_ms: 154270\n  end_ms: 157160\n- text: Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  start_ms: 157160\n  end_ms: 159350\n- text: Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  start_ms: 159350\n  end_ms: 162670\n- text: Shit on your hypotheses\n  start_ms: 162670\n  end_ms: 164120\n- text: Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  start_ms: 164120\n  end_ms: 166890\n- text: You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  start_ms: 166890\n  end_ms: 169530\n- text: Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  start_ms: 169530\n  end_ms: 171650\n- text: A pile of G's for apology\n  start_ms: 171650\n  end_ms: 176540\n- text: Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  start_ms: 176540\n  end_ms: 182180\n- text: Leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 182180\n  end_ms: 184930\n- text: Danger, danger\n  start_ms: 184930\n  end_ms: 191620\n- text: Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n  start_ms: 191620\n  end_ms: 196040\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 196040\nplain: |-\n  (\"Go Brooklyn!\")\n  Said, what it's like?\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leave niggas endangered\n  It's the real, yo, what's the word word?\n  Pass the herbs, check\n\n  My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind\n  I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines\n  Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight sober\n  Ma, you ain't that girl at giving throat, so bye\n  F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom\n  Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum\n  Showed her to the door before the afternoon\n  She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon\n\n  Fake MC's get their reps ruined\n  Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed\n  Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs\n  Raps dope like crack in cocoons\n  Back in this mood, back on the move\n  It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool\n  Pay respect to the cat Drew\n  And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n\n  I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life\n  Just remember homeboy, there ain't no free way to life\n  My nigga, it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul\n  To the rims, hoes, and gold\n  'Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go\n  And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong\n  I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs\n  I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong\n\n  Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco\n  Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor\n  Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt\n  Bitch love don't live here no more\n  'Cause her weave look faker than her Louis bag\n  Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down\n  Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants\n  But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance\n\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest\n  Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era (check)\n\n  I got sick of class, started making classics\n  Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses\n  I'm sure to blow like bust acid\n  Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick\n  And I average above average on an average day\n  Doing bad shit, bet you still can't pass this\n  And his teacher still pass him\n  Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons\n\n  Like fuck trigonometry, I'm trying to multiply monopolies\n  Subtract some homies then divide the cheese\n  Divide legs just to isosceles, so my eyes can see through the E\n  Shit on your hypotheses\n  Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes\n  You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee\n  Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave\n  A pile of G's for apology\n\n  Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers\n  Leaving niggas endangered\n  Danger, danger\n  Joey Bad' leaving niggas endangered\n"}]