[{"id":32187842,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Hip Hop Hurray Vol 5","duration":263.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Hip Hop Hurray Vol 5\n  duration_ms: 263000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":2464206,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":29739511,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control CD","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control CD\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":30310543,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control (Australian Tour Edition)","duration":277.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control (Australian Tour Edition)\n  duration_ms: 277000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":19250480,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":276.3871232,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 276387\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":18627441,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control (RETAIL)","duration":265.278792,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control (RETAIL)\n  duration_ms: 265279\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":20377881,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":270.124333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 270124\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":22624756,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control - Instumental","duration":276.897959,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control - Instumental\n  duration_ms: 276898\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":24366101,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":267.019,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 267019\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":28934332,"name":"Twelve","trackName":"Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":274.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 274000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":13791421,"name":"12 - Twelve","trackName":"12 - Twelve","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":265.325714,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 12 - Twelve\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 265326\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"},{"id":9353578,"name":"Twelve (Album Version)","trackName":"Twelve (Album Version)","artistName":"Jurassic 5","albumName":"Quality Control","duration":265.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Chorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nAkil:\nYo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\nGhetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\nUrban curb servin', vocabulary surging\nRebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\nI keep it working for certain, close curtains\nRenegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\nThat body rock moving, ghetto baby music\nWe eat together with the inner city coolness\n\nChali 2na:\nYo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\nBurning through open skin like newly prepared grits\nIt's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\nAnd changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\nOooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\nWhen shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\nLike Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\nCorrecting all them bumbaclot specials\n\nZaakir:\nYeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\nAnd my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\nQuestions, is he stepping authentic?\nController of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\nSpit it, yo, despite your critic comments\nKnowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\nWhether last or first, or bottom or top\nNow is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\nMarc 7even:\nYou need to protect your neck\nYou the kind of brother who be chasing checks\nMe and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\nBasic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\nBreak and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\nPassion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\nOn-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\nBout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\nCause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for\n\nZaakir:\nI razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\nAnd I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\nBack in 83rd, before my style was preferred\nNow my connectionw with the word is preferred\nPrimo, my AC, 310\nThe first confidential, inscribed my initial\nThe Z double A K-I and R\nSubmerge in submarine words near and far\nCause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\nAnd I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\nAkil:\nYo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\nDegrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\nThey on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\nDepartment of Correctional Rhyme Ability\nKeep the biters on lock, rock no silk\nStill shock, rhyme around the clock\n\nMarc 7even:\nFrom dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\nYou schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\nAkil:\nAyo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\nHigh pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\nThe champion, fly shit, the anthem\n5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\nHandsome never, not even as a kid\nThe girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\nChali 2na:\nYo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\nThe show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\nI'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\nI'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\nThrough TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\nVerbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\nThe combat that's making your mom mad\nI'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\nChorus:\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for, ahh\nOne, two, Jurassic Crew\nWhat we bout to do, brothers have no clue\nThree, four, tear down the door\nAnd give the party people what they came here for","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Twelve (Album Version)\n  artist: Jurassic 5\n  album: Quality Control\n  duration_ms: 265000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo, my pleasure principle from the streets of South Central\n  Ghetto hip-hop, nonstop fundamental\n  Urban curb servin', vocabulary surging\n  Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon\n  I keep it working for certain, close curtains\n  Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing\n  That body rock moving, ghetto baby music\n  We eat together with the inner city coolness\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo (Who's this?) Slicing a rhyme in square bits\n  Burning through open skin like newly prepared grits\n  It's 2na Fish, I'm bringing the bad news\n  And changing your bathroom if you thinking that cash rules\n  Oooh, pumpernickle blow words like snot speckles\n  When shots echo, some duck and hide like Doc Jeckyl\n  Like Don Rickles, I'm kicking rhymes that stop heckles\n  Correcting all them bumbaclot specials\n\n  Zaakir:\n  Yeah, I got my mind on my money for those that comprehend\n  And my money on whatever I think I look fresh in\n  Questions, is he stepping authentic?\n  Controller of the panic, break a senate lieutenant\n  Spit it, yo, despite your critic comments\n  Knowing it ain't a hotter verse than Zaakir Mohammed\n  Whether last or first, or bottom or top\n  Now is it \"Stop hip-hop\" or \"Hip-hop don't stop?\"\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  You need to protect your neck\n  You the kind of brother who be chasing checks\n  Me and my crew crash through and get nuff respect\n  Basic bet takers I'm beyond your average thinker\n  Break and MC down, like my name was Dr. Shrinker\n  Passion fake MC's, wearing mink MC's\n  On-the-brink MC's, you need to think MC's\n  Bout to sink MC's, don't even speak MC's\n  Cause half the shit you kicking sounding weak MC's\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n\n  Zaakir:\n  I razor sharp with mindset, sunset til sun\n  And I admit, I used to bite people's shit when I was young\n  Back in 83rd, before my style was preferred\n  Now my connectionw with the word is preferred\n  Primo, my AC, 310\n  The first confidential, inscribed my initial\n  The Z double A K-I and R\n  Submerge in submarine words near and far\n  Cause I'm too hot to handle, too cold to freeze\n  And I'm a diss any nigga that sounds like me\n\n  Akil:\n  Yo yo, breeze through the trees, feel the flavor at ease\n  Degrees of melodies, typewriter MC's\n  They on their Q's and P's withing my vicinity\n  Department of Correctional Rhyme Ability\n  Keep the biters on lock, rock no silk\n  Still shock, rhyme around the clock\n\n  Marc 7even:\n  From dawn to dusk, my raps is Mack Truck\n  You schmucks is out of luck, I'm ready to run amuck\n\n  Akil:\n  Ayo I'm lampin, I'm lampin, I'm cold stone lampin\n  High pitch, beat drumsticks like Lionel Hampton\n  The champion, fly shit, the anthem\n  5'11\" with dark skin and tantrum\n  Handsome never, not even as a kid\n  The girls used to say \"Oh his nose is too big\"\n\n  Chali 2na:\n  Yo, you'll get bruised, kid, ghetto blues, you'll never refuse shit\n  The show's good, pinching MC's like rosewood\n  I'm shrinking you rap characters into die-cast minitures\n  I'll blast ten of you while my rhymes while my rhymes harass senators\n  Through TV monitors, brains and glass dinner jaws\n  Verbal vinegar for you biters down at the salad bar\n  The combat that's making your mom mad\n  I'm feeling a congrat for burning his mom bad\n\n  Chorus:\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for, ahh\n  One, two, Jurassic Crew\n  What we bout to do, brothers have no clue\n  Three, four, tear down the door\n  And give the party people what they came here for\n"}]