[{"id":31034312,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Kanye West Collection","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Kanye West Collection\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":20144581,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"wills kanye mix two","duration":265.9622,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: wills kanye mix two\n  duration_ms: 265962\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":32042952,"name":"18 - Two Words","trackName":"18 - Two Words","artistName":"kanye west","albumName":"Kanye West - The College Dropout","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, player, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nListen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move!\nTwo words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move!\nTwo words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\nTwo words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move!\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nAnd keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nAyo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\nBarbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be\nI can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now we get racially profiled\n'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n\nThrow ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nTwo words: Freeway; two letters: AR\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\nTwo words: no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\nYoung boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\nForget ya squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\nTwo words: Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\nGhetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n(High) and show it to 'em like\nShow it me here, I-\nJust some two track reference shit\nJust to see how it works","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.27] We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n[00:16.45] It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n[00:19.20] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:22.03] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:24.94] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.96] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.49] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:33.38] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:35.91] Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.69] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:42.46] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.24] Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n[00:47.99] Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.89] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.63] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.50] We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n[00:59.36] Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n[01:02.09] Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.97] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.89] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n[01:10.54] Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.40] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:16.01] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:18.69] We won't stop, everybody move!\n[01:21.31] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n[01:25.32] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.80] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:29.63] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:32.65] And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n[01:36.90] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:38.12] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:40.92] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:43.85] Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n[01:47.32] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:50.16] One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n[01:53.00] One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.79] I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n[01:58.55] Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n[02:01.78] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.19] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:06.95] Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:10.04] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.64] Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\n[02:15.24] So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.74] Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.18] You know how the game be\n[02:22.44] I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.11] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.67] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.22] And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n[02:32.22] 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.54] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.66] From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.27] Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n[02:44.29] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.88] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[02:48.62] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[02:51.92] Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR\n[02:54.88] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\n[02:58.18] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.60] The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n[03:04.00] Two words: no guns, break arms\n[03:06.26] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n[03:09.33] Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.56] With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n[03:14.92] Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:17.15] Have you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\n[03:20.25] Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.48] Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n[03:26.67] Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n[03:28.66] Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n[03:31.57] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.26] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n[03:37.12] Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n[03:39.91] Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n[03:42.85] North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n[03:45.94] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n[03:48.48] (High) and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.85] Show it me here, I-\n[03:53.39] Just some two track reference shit\n[03:54.82] Just to see how it works\n[04:21.49] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 18 - Two Words\n  artist: kanye west\n  album: Kanye West - The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  start_ms: 14270\n  end_ms: 16450\n- text: 'It''s only two places you end up: either dead or in jail'\n  start_ms: 16450\n  end_ms: 19200\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 19200\n  end_ms: 22030\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 22030\n  end_ms: 24940\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24940\n  end_ms: 28960\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28960\n  end_ms: 30490\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30490\n  end_ms: 33380\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33380\n  end_ms: 35910\n- text: 'Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks'\n  start_ms: 35910\n  end_ms: 39690\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39690\n  end_ms: 42460\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42460\n  end_ms: 45240\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 45240\n  end_ms: 47990\n- text: 'Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit'\n  start_ms: 47990\n  end_ms: 50890\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50890\n  end_ms: 53630\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53630\n  end_ms: 56500\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 56500\n  end_ms: 59360\n- text: 'Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy'\n  start_ms: 59360\n  end_ms: 62090\n- text: Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62090\n  end_ms: 64970\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64970\n  end_ms: 67890\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 67890\n  end_ms: 70540\n- text: 'Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit'\n  start_ms: 70540\n  end_ms: 73400\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73400\n  end_ms: 76010\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76010\n  end_ms: 78690\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 78690\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 85320\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85320\n  end_ms: 86800\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86800\n  end_ms: 89630\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89630\n  end_ms: 92650\n- text: And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92650\n  end_ms: 96900\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96900\n  end_ms: 98120\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 98120\n  end_ms: 100920\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100920\n  end_ms: 103850\n- text: 'Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide'\n  start_ms: 103850\n  end_ms: 107320\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107320\n  end_ms: 110160\n- text: One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  start_ms: 110160\n  end_ms: 113000\n- text: One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 113000\n  end_ms: 115790\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  start_ms: 115790\n  end_ms: 118550\n- text: Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118550\n  end_ms: 121780\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121780\n  end_ms: 124190\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124190\n  end_ms: 126950\n- text: Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126950\n  end_ms: 130040\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 130040\n  end_ms: 132640\n- text: 'Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy'\n  start_ms: 132640\n  end_ms: 135240\n- text: 'So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"'\n  start_ms: 135240\n  end_ms: 138740\n- text: Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138740\n  end_ms: 141180\n- text: You know how the game be\n  start_ms: 141180\n  end_ms: 142440\n- text: I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 142440\n  end_ms: 144110\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144110\n  end_ms: 147670\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147670\n  end_ms: 149220\n- text: And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149220\n  end_ms: 152220\n- text: '''Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho''d down'\n  start_ms: 152220\n  end_ms: 155540\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155540\n  end_ms: 157660\n- text: From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157660\n  end_ms: 160270\n- text: Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160270\n  end_ms: 164290\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 164290\n  end_ms: 165880\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165880\n  end_ms: 168620\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168620\n  end_ms: 171920\n- text: 'Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR'\n  start_ms: 171920\n  end_ms: 174880\n- text: 'Turn y''all rap niggas to two words: fast runners'\n  start_ms: 174880\n  end_ms: 178180\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178180\n  end_ms: 180600\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  start_ms: 180600\n  end_ms: 184000\n- text: 'Two words: no guns, break arms'\n  start_ms: 184000\n  end_ms: 186260\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n  start_ms: 186260\n  end_ms: 189330\n- text: Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 189330\n  end_ms: 191560\n- text: With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  start_ms: 191560\n  end_ms: 194920\n- text: Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194920\n  end_ms: 197150\n- text: 'Have you screamin'' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh'\n  start_ms: 197150\n  end_ms: 200250\n- text: 'Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded'\n  start_ms: 200250\n  end_ms: 203480\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203480\n  end_ms: 206670\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 206670\n  end_ms: 208660\n- text: Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208660\n  end_ms: 211570\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211570\n  end_ms: 213260\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213260\n  end_ms: 217120\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 217120\n  end_ms: 219910\n- text: Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219910\n  end_ms: 222850\n- text: North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222850\n  end_ms: 225940\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225940\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: (High) and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 232850\n- text: Show it me here, I-\n  start_ms: 232850\n  end_ms: 233390\n- text: Just some two track reference shit\n  start_ms: 233390\n  end_ms: 234820\n- text: Just to see how it works\n  start_ms: 234820\n  end_ms: 261490\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 261490\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n  Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move!\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be\n  I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n  'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  Two words: no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n  Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\n  Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n  North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n  Show it me here, I-\n  Just some two track reference shit\n  Just to see how it works\n"},{"id":30992476,"name":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir Of Harlem)","trackName":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir Of Harlem)","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Kanye West","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, player, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\nAyo, two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n\nI am limelight, Blueprint five mics\nGo Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\nBarbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words: \"fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be\nI can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now (throw your hands up high)\nWe get racially profiled\n'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom so the top's\nThe only place to go now\n\nThrow ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\nTwo words, free way, two letters, AR\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n\nYoung boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\nForget ya squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, freeway slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south to the east to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n(High) and show it to 'em like\n\nAnd show it me here, I-\nThis is just some two track reference shit\nJust to see how it works","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.39] We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n[00:16.30] It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n[00:19.21] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:22.22] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.82] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.80] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.89] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.96] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:38.74] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n[00:41.91] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.67] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.51] Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:49.92] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[00:53.24] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:55.94] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:59.21] Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n[01:01.75] Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.68] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.63] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:10.16] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.05] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[01:15.39] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:18.42] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.16] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n[01:24.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.55] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.66] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.70] And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:36.77] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:38.43] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:41.30] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:44.07] Ayo, two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n[01:46.65] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:50.12] One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n[01:53.20] One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.95] I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n[01:58.61] Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.77] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.11] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:07.06] Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:10.38] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.99] Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n[02:15.27] So I live by two words: \"fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.80] Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.33] You know how the game be\n[02:22.71] I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.42] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.98] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.40] And I basically know now (throw your hands up high)\n[02:31.05] We get racially profiled\n[02:32.35] 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.75] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.85] From the bottom so the top's\n[02:38.88] The only place to go now\n[02:40.82] Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n[02:44.62] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:46.03] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.88] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:52.33] Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n[02:55.10] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n[02:58.02] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.93] The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n[03:04.18] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:06.27] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n[03:09.25] Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.69] With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n[03:14.73] Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:17.27] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n[03:20.36] Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n[03:23.65] Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.83] Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.75] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.74] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:34.30] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:37.56] Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n[03:40.17] Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:43.01] North to the south to the east to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.88] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:48.55] (High) and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.81] And show it me here, I-\n[03:53.03] This is just some two track reference shit\n[03:54.81] Just to see how it works\n[03:55.46] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Freeway & The Boys Choir Of Harlem)\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Kanye West\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  start_ms: 14390\n  end_ms: 16300\n- text: 'It''s only two places you end up: either dead or in jail'\n  start_ms: 16300\n  end_ms: 19210\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 19210\n  end_ms: 22220\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 22220\n  end_ms: 24820\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24820\n  end_ms: 28800\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28800\n  end_ms: 30890\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30890\n  end_ms: 33670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33670\n  end_ms: 35960\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 35960\n  end_ms: 38740\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  start_ms: 38740\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44670\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44670\n  end_ms: 47510\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47510\n  end_ms: 49920\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 49920\n  end_ms: 53240\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53240\n  end_ms: 55940\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 55940\n  end_ms: 59210\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  start_ms: 59210\n  end_ms: 61750\n- text: Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61750\n  end_ms: 64680\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64680\n  end_ms: 67630\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67630\n  end_ms: 70160\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 70160\n  end_ms: 73050\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 73050\n  end_ms: 75390\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 75390\n  end_ms: 78420\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78420\n  end_ms: 81160\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81160\n  end_ms: 84870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84870\n  end_ms: 86550\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86550\n  end_ms: 89660\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89660\n  end_ms: 92700\n- text: And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92700\n  end_ms: 96770\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96770\n  end_ms: 98430\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 98430\n  end_ms: 101300\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 101300\n  end_ms: 104070\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  start_ms: 104070\n  end_ms: 106650\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106650\n  end_ms: 110120\n- text: One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  start_ms: 110120\n  end_ms: 113200\n- text: One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 113200\n  end_ms: 115950\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  start_ms: 115950\n  end_ms: 118610\n- text: Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118610\n  end_ms: 121770\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121770\n  end_ms: 124110\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124110\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130380\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 130380\n  end_ms: 132990\n- text: Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  start_ms: 132990\n  end_ms: 135270\n- text: 'So I live by two words: \"fuck you, pay me\"'\n  start_ms: 135270\n  end_ms: 138800\n- text: Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138800\n  end_ms: 141330\n- text: You know how the game be\n  start_ms: 141330\n  end_ms: 142710\n- text: I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 142710\n  end_ms: 144420\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144420\n  end_ms: 147980\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147980\n  end_ms: 149400\n- text: And I basically know now (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 149400\n  end_ms: 151050\n- text: We get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 151050\n  end_ms: 152350\n- text: '''Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho''d down'\n  start_ms: 152350\n  end_ms: 155750\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155750\n  end_ms: 157850\n- text: From the bottom so the top's\n  start_ms: 157850\n  end_ms: 158880\n- text: The only place to go now\n  start_ms: 158880\n  end_ms: 160820\n- text: Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160820\n  end_ms: 164620\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 164620\n  end_ms: 166030\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 166030\n  end_ms: 168880\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168880\n  end_ms: 172330\n- text: Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  start_ms: 172330\n  end_ms: 175100\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 175100\n  end_ms: 178020\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178020\n  end_ms: 180930\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  start_ms: 180930\n  end_ms: 184180\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 184180\n  end_ms: 186270\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n  start_ms: 186270\n  end_ms: 189250\n- text: Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 189250\n  end_ms: 191690\n- text: With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  start_ms: 191690\n  end_ms: 194730\n- text: Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194730\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 200360\n- text: Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 200360\n  end_ms: 203650\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203650\n  end_ms: 205830\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205830\n  end_ms: 208750\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208750\n  end_ms: 211740\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211740\n  end_ms: 214300\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 214300\n  end_ms: 217560\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 217560\n  end_ms: 220170\n- text: Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 220170\n  end_ms: 223010\n- text: North to the south to the east to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 223010\n  end_ms: 225880\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225880\n  end_ms: 228550\n- text: (High) and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228550\n  end_ms: 232810\n- text: And show it me here, I-\n  start_ms: 232810\n  end_ms: 233030\n- text: This is just some two track reference shit\n  start_ms: 233030\n  end_ms: 234810\n- text: Just to see how it works\n  start_ms: 234810\n  end_ms: 235460\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 235460\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n\n  I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words: \"fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be\n  I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now (throw your hands up high)\n  We get racially profiled\n  'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom so the top's\n  The only place to go now\n\n  Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n\n  Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n\n  Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south to the east to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n\n  And show it me here, I-\n  This is just some two track reference shit\n  Just to see how it works\n"},{"id":38256079,"name":"Two Words (con Mos Def, Freeway e The Boys Choir Of Harlem)","trackName":"Two Words (con Mos Def, Freeway e The Boys Choir Of Harlem)","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Kanye West","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nNow throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nAnd keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\nBusters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint five mics\nGo Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\nBarbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nOh, everybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, free way, two letters, AR\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget ya squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\nTwo words, freeway slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers asking who is that?\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like\n\nAnd show it me here, I-\nThis is just some two track reference shit\nJust to see how it works","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.22] We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n[00:16.37] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:19.08] Still nowhere to go\n[00:22.00] Still nowhere to go\n[00:24.84] Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:29.10] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.47] Still nowhere to go\n[00:33.16] Still nowhere to go\n[00:36.77] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.57] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n[00:42.33] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.20] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.93] Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.80] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[00:53.72] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.43] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:59.24] Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n[01:02.04] Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.81] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.76] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:10.68] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.37] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[01:16.29] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:18.87] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.26] Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n[01:25.28] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.84] Still nowhere to go\n[01:29.62] Still nowhere to go\n[01:32.62] And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:35.08] Busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.84] Still nowhere to go\n[01:40.86] Still nowhere to go\n[01:44.55] Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n[01:47.24] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:50.00] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:53.06] One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.91] I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n[01:58.57] Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.73] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.18] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:07.01] Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.84] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.52] Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n[02:15.21] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.86] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.06] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.15] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.51] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.17] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n[02:32.32] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.59] Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.73] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.22] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n[02:43.87] Oh, everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.99] Still nowhere to go\n[02:48.70] Still nowhere to go\n[02:51.91] Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n[02:54.92] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n[02:58.02] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.70] The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n[03:04.09] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:06.26] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.56] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.54] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.91] Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:17.07] Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n[03:20.21] Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n[03:23.42] Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.94] Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.74] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.41] Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n[03:34.25] You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n[03:37.18] Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n[03:40.13] Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.86] North to the south, to the east, to the west\n[03:45.65] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n[03:48.39] (High) and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.62] And show it me here, I-\n[03:53.56] This is just some two track reference shit\n[03:54.87] Just to see how it works\n[03:56.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words (con Mos Def, Freeway e The Boys Choir Of Harlem)\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Kanye West\n  duration_ms: 266221\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  start_ms: 14220\n  end_ms: 16370\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16370\n  end_ms: 19080\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 19080\n  end_ms: 22000\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 22000\n  end_ms: 24840\n- text: Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24840\n  end_ms: 29100\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 29100\n  end_ms: 30470\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 30470\n  end_ms: 33160\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 33160\n  end_ms: 36770\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36770\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42330\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42330\n  end_ms: 45200\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 45200\n  end_ms: 47930\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47930\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 53720\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53720\n  end_ms: 56430\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56430\n  end_ms: 59240\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  start_ms: 59240\n  end_ms: 62040\n- text: Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62040\n  end_ms: 64810\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64810\n  end_ms: 67760\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67760\n  end_ms: 70680\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 70680\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76290\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76290\n  end_ms: 78870\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78870\n  end_ms: 81260\n- text: Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81260\n  end_ms: 85280\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85280\n  end_ms: 86840\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 86840\n  end_ms: 89620\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 89620\n  end_ms: 92620\n- text: And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92620\n  end_ms: 95080\n- text: Busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 95080\n  end_ms: 96670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96670\n  end_ms: 97840\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 97840\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 104550\n- text: Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  start_ms: 104550\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110000\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 110000\n  end_ms: 113060\n- text: One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 113060\n  end_ms: 115910\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  start_ms: 115910\n  end_ms: 118570\n- text: Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118570\n  end_ms: 121730\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121730\n  end_ms: 124180\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124180\n  end_ms: 127010\n- text: Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 127010\n  end_ms: 129840\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129840\n  end_ms: 132520\n- text: Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  start_ms: 132520\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 138860\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138860\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 144150\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144150\n  end_ms: 147510\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147510\n  end_ms: 149170\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149170\n  end_ms: 152320\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152320\n  end_ms: 155590\n- text: Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155590\n  end_ms: 157730\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157730\n  end_ms: 160220\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160220\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Oh, everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165990\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 165990\n  end_ms: 168700\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 168700\n  end_ms: 171910\n- text: Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  start_ms: 171910\n  end_ms: 174920\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174920\n  end_ms: 178020\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178020\n  end_ms: 180700\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  start_ms: 180700\n  end_ms: 184090\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 184090\n  end_ms: 186260\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 186260\n  end_ms: 188560\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188560\n  end_ms: 191540\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191540\n  end_ms: 194910\n- text: Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194910\n  end_ms: 197070\n- text: Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n  start_ms: 197070\n  end_ms: 200210\n- text: Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 200210\n  end_ms: 203420\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203420\n  end_ms: 205940\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205940\n  end_ms: 208740\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208740\n  end_ms: 211410\n- text: Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n  start_ms: 211410\n  end_ms: 214250\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  start_ms: 214250\n  end_ms: 217180\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 217180\n  end_ms: 220130\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 220130\n  end_ms: 222860\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  start_ms: 222860\n  end_ms: 225650\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  start_ms: 225650\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: (High) and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228390\n  end_ms: 232620\n- text: And show it me here, I-\n  start_ms: 232620\n  end_ms: 233560\n- text: This is just some two track reference shit\n  start_ms: 233560\n  end_ms: 234870\n- text: Just to see how it works\n  start_ms: 234870\n  end_ms: 236250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 236250\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n  Busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Oh, everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n  Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n\n  And show it me here, I-\n  This is just some two track reference shit\n  Just to see how it works\n"},{"id":40094655,"name":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free","trackName":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Kanye West The Remixes","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, player, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that!\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nListen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move!\n\nTwo words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move!\n\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\nStill nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n\nAyo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n(High), and show it to 'em like\nLet me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.26] We in the streets, player, get your mail\n[00:16.48] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:19.26] Still nowhere to go\n[00:21.99] Still nowhere to go\n[00:24.77] Now throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.85] Everybody, fuck that!\n[00:30.28] Still nowhere to go\n[00:33.04] Still nowhere to go\n[00:35.43] Listen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:38.82] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:42.48] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.07] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.94] Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.66] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.75] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.34] We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n[00:59.20] Two words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\n[01:02.76] Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:05.01] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.67] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n[01:10.43] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.48] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:16.01] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:19.04] We won't stop, everybody move!\n[01:21.42] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.41] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:25.06] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.66] Still nowhere to go\n[01:29.75] Still nowhere to go\n[01:32.71] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.67] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.62] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:38.19] Still nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\n[01:40.73] Still nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n[01:43.52] Ayo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:47.27] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.99] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:53.00] One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\n[01:55.71] I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n[01:58.42] Go-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n[02:01.62] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.20] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:07.09] Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.76] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.56] Two words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\n[02:15.14] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.61] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.07] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.01] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.52] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.44] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n[02:32.34] 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.31] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.65] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.19] Now throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\n[02:42.23] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:44.06] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.65] Still nowhere to go\n[02:48.39] Still nowhere to go\n[02:52.02] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.96] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n[02:58.27] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:01.15] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:04.06] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:06.00] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.67] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.33] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.80] Forget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\n[03:17.27] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\n[03:20.35] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.72] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.80] Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.65] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.41] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:34.47] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.81] Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.86] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.98] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.59] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:48.97] (High), and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.80] Let me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work\n[04:26.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Kanye West The Remixes\n  duration_ms: 266240\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, player, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14260\n  end_ms: 16480\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16480\n  end_ms: 19260\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 19260\n  end_ms: 21990\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 21990\n  end_ms: 24770\n- text: Now throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24770\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Everybody, fuck that!\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 33040\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 33040\n  end_ms: 35430\n- text: Listen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 35430\n  end_ms: 38820\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 38820\n  end_ms: 42480\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42480\n  end_ms: 45070\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 45070\n  end_ms: 47940\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47940\n  end_ms: 50660\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50660\n  end_ms: 53750\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53750\n  end_ms: 56340\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 56340\n  end_ms: 59200\n- text: Two words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 59200\n  end_ms: 62760\n- text: Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62760\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 67670\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 67670\n  end_ms: 70430\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 70430\n  end_ms: 73480\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73480\n  end_ms: 76010\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76010\n  end_ms: 79040\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 79040\n  end_ms: 81420\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81420\n  end_ms: 82410\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82410\n  end_ms: 85060\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85060\n  end_ms: 86660\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 86660\n  end_ms: 89750\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 89750\n  end_ms: 92710\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92710\n  end_ms: 93670\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93670\n  end_ms: 96620\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96620\n  end_ms: 98190\n- text: Still nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\n  start_ms: 98190\n  end_ms: 100730\n- text: Still nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n  start_ms: 100730\n  end_ms: 103520\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103520\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 109990\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109990\n  end_ms: 113000\n- text: One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\n  start_ms: 113000\n  end_ms: 115710\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  start_ms: 115710\n  end_ms: 118420\n- text: Go-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118420\n  end_ms: 121620\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121620\n  end_ms: 124200\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124200\n  end_ms: 127090\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 127090\n  end_ms: 129760\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129760\n  end_ms: 132560\n- text: Two words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 132560\n  end_ms: 135140\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 135140\n  end_ms: 138610\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138610\n  end_ms: 141070\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 141070\n  end_ms: 144010\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144010\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149440\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149440\n  end_ms: 152340\n- text: '''Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho''d down'\n  start_ms: 152340\n  end_ms: 155310\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155310\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 160190\n- text: Now throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160190\n  end_ms: 162230\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 162230\n  end_ms: 164060\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 164060\n  end_ms: 165650\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 165650\n  end_ms: 168390\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 168390\n  end_ms: 172020\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 172020\n  end_ms: 174960\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174960\n  end_ms: 178270\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178270\n  end_ms: 181150\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 181150\n  end_ms: 184060\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 184060\n  end_ms: 186000\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 186000\n  end_ms: 188670\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188670\n  end_ms: 191330\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191330\n  end_ms: 194800\n- text: Forget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194800\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 200350\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 200350\n  end_ms: 203720\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203720\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 208650\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208650\n  end_ms: 211410\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211410\n  end_ms: 214470\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 214470\n  end_ms: 216810\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216810\n  end_ms: 219860\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219860\n  end_ms: 222980\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222980\n  end_ms: 225590\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225590\n  end_ms: 228970\n- text: (High), and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228970\n  end_ms: 232800\n- text: Let me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work\n  start_ms: 232800\n  end_ms: 266230\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 266230\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, player, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that!\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Listen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n\n  Two words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move!\n\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\n  Still nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  (High), and show it to 'em like\n  Let me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work\n"},{"id":19325436,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Bizkit Presents 50 Cent And Kanye West-911 Hip Hop Heroes Bootleg","duration":90.331429,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Bizkit Presents 50 Cent And Kanye West-911 Hip Hop Heroes Bootleg\n  duration_ms: 90331\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":18719844,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"West Sounds","duration":232.079813,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: West Sounds\n  duration_ms: 232080\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":35686316,"name":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free","trackName":"Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Kanye West - The Remixes (Collectors Edition)","duration":266.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, player, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nListen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move!\nTwo words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move!\nTwo words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\nTwo words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move!\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nAnd keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nAyo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\nBarbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be\nI can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now we get racially profiled\n'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n\nThrow ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\nTwo words: Freeway; two letters: AR\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\nTwo words: no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\nYoung boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\nForget ya squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\nTwo words: Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\nGhetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n(High) and show it to 'em like\nShow it me here, I-\nJust some two track reference shit\nJust to see how it works","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.23] We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n[00:16.40] It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n[00:19.26] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:22.09] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:24.97] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.99] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.44] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:33.30] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[00:35.92] Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.69] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:42.41] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.22] Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n[00:47.90] Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.83] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.65] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.50] We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n[00:59.32] Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n[01:02.02] Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.95] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.82] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n[01:10.56] Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.40] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:16.09] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:18.65] We won't stop, everybody move!\n[01:21.38] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n[01:25.39] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.85] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:29.64] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:32.64] And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n[01:36.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:38.14] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:40.98] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[01:43.84] Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n[01:47.31] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:50.17] One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n[01:53.02] One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.72] I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n[01:58.54] Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n[02:01.76] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.17] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:06.99] Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:10.08] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.62] Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\n[02:15.22] So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.78] Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.18] You know how the game be\n[02:22.40] I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.10] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.66] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.23] And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n[02:32.26] 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.52] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.65] From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.25] Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n[02:44.28] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.87] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[02:48.66] Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n[02:51.97] Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR\n[02:54.86] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\n[02:58.12] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.61] The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n[03:04.05] Two words: no guns, break arms\n[03:06.24] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n[03:09.38] Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.55] With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n[03:14.99] Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:17.12] Have you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\n[03:20.28] Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.43] Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n[03:26.68] Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n[03:28.65] Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n[03:31.53] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.27] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n[03:37.17] Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n[03:39.95] Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n[03:42.86] North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n[03:45.96] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n[03:48.45] (High) and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.86] Show it me here, I-\n[03:53.32] Just some two track reference shit\n[03:54.89] Just to see how it works\n[04:23.73] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words (feat. Mos Def, Free\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: Kanye West - The Remixes (Collectors Edition)\n  duration_ms: 266000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  start_ms: 14230\n  end_ms: 16400\n- text: 'It''s only two places you end up: either dead or in jail'\n  start_ms: 16400\n  end_ms: 19260\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 19260\n  end_ms: 22090\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 22090\n  end_ms: 24970\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24970\n  end_ms: 28990\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28990\n  end_ms: 30440\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30440\n  end_ms: 33300\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33300\n  end_ms: 35920\n- text: 'Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks'\n  start_ms: 35920\n  end_ms: 39690\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39690\n  end_ms: 42410\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42410\n  end_ms: 45220\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 45220\n  end_ms: 47900\n- text: 'Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit'\n  start_ms: 47900\n  end_ms: 50830\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50830\n  end_ms: 53650\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53650\n  end_ms: 56500\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 56500\n  end_ms: 59320\n- text: 'Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy'\n  start_ms: 59320\n  end_ms: 62020\n- text: Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62020\n  end_ms: 64950\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64950\n  end_ms: 67820\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 67820\n  end_ms: 70560\n- text: 'Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit'\n  start_ms: 70560\n  end_ms: 73400\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73400\n  end_ms: 76090\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76090\n  end_ms: 78650\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 78650\n  end_ms: 81380\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81380\n  end_ms: 85390\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85390\n  end_ms: 86850\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86850\n  end_ms: 89640\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89640\n  end_ms: 92640\n- text: And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92640\n  end_ms: 96940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96940\n  end_ms: 98140\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 98140\n  end_ms: 100980\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100980\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: 'Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide'\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 107310\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107310\n  end_ms: 110170\n- text: One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  start_ms: 110170\n  end_ms: 113020\n- text: One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 113020\n  end_ms: 115720\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  start_ms: 115720\n  end_ms: 118540\n- text: Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118540\n  end_ms: 121760\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121760\n  end_ms: 124170\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124170\n  end_ms: 126990\n- text: Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126990\n  end_ms: 130080\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 130080\n  end_ms: 132620\n- text: 'Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy'\n  start_ms: 132620\n  end_ms: 135220\n- text: 'So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"'\n  start_ms: 135220\n  end_ms: 138780\n- text: Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138780\n  end_ms: 141180\n- text: You know how the game be\n  start_ms: 141180\n  end_ms: 142400\n- text: I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 142400\n  end_ms: 144100\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144100\n  end_ms: 147660\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147660\n  end_ms: 149230\n- text: And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149230\n  end_ms: 152260\n- text: '''Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho''d down'\n  start_ms: 152260\n  end_ms: 155520\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155520\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 160250\n- text: Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160250\n  end_ms: 164280\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 164280\n  end_ms: 165870\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165870\n  end_ms: 168660\n- text: Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168660\n  end_ms: 171970\n- text: 'Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR'\n  start_ms: 171970\n  end_ms: 174860\n- text: 'Turn y''all rap niggas to two words: fast runners'\n  start_ms: 174860\n  end_ms: 178120\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178120\n  end_ms: 180610\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  start_ms: 180610\n  end_ms: 184050\n- text: 'Two words: no guns, break arms'\n  start_ms: 184050\n  end_ms: 186240\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n  start_ms: 186240\n  end_ms: 189380\n- text: Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 189380\n  end_ms: 191550\n- text: With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  start_ms: 191550\n  end_ms: 194990\n- text: Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194990\n  end_ms: 197120\n- text: 'Have you screamin'' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh'\n  start_ms: 197120\n  end_ms: 200280\n- text: 'Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded'\n  start_ms: 200280\n  end_ms: 203430\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203430\n  end_ms: 206680\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 206680\n  end_ms: 208650\n- text: Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208650\n  end_ms: 211530\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211530\n  end_ms: 213270\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213270\n  end_ms: 217170\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 217170\n  end_ms: 219950\n- text: Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219950\n  end_ms: 222860\n- text: North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222860\n  end_ms: 225960\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225960\n  end_ms: 228450\n- text: (High) and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228450\n  end_ms: 232860\n- text: Show it me here, I-\n  start_ms: 232860\n  end_ms: 233320\n- text: Just some two track reference shit\n  start_ms: 233320\n  end_ms: 234890\n- text: Just to see how it works\n  start_ms: 234890\n  end_ms: 263730\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 263730\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, player, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up: either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Listen, two words: United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move!\n  Two words: Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  Two words: BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  Two words: Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move!\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (Throw your hands up high)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  And keep ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Ayo, two words: Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words: Chi-town raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words: \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be\n  I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now we get racially profiled\n  'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('Til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (Nowhere to go)\n\n  Two words: Freeway; two letters: AR\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words: fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  Two words: no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal, free\n  Young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot Jay sent for his dogs, to brawl\n  Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words: \"Send for the law\"? Ugh\n  Two words: Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (Throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (Throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (Throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K. West (Throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people get this shit off ya chest (Throw your hands up)\n  North to the south to the east to the west (Throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (Throw your hands up)\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n  Show it me here, I-\n  Just some two track reference shit\n  Just to see how it works\n"},{"id":22286893,"name":"Two Words - Freeway, Harlem Boys Choir, Mos Def, Kanye West","trackName":"Two Words - Freeway, Harlem Boys Choir, Mos Def, Kanye West","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":266.300187,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nNow throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nAnd keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\nBusters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint five mics\nGo Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\nBarbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nOh, everybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, free way, two letters, AR\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget ya squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\nTwo words, freeway slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers asking who is that?\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like\n\nAnd show it me here, I-\nThis is just some two track reference shit\nJust to see how it works","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.22] We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n[00:16.37] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:19.08] Still nowhere to go\n[00:22.00] Still nowhere to go\n[00:24.84] Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:29.10] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.47] Still nowhere to go\n[00:33.16] Still nowhere to go\n[00:36.77] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.57] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n[00:42.33] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.20] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.93] Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.80] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[00:53.72] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.43] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:59.24] Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n[01:02.04] Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.81] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.76] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:10.68] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.37] Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n[01:16.29] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:18.87] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.26] Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n[01:25.28] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.84] Still nowhere to go\n[01:29.62] Still nowhere to go\n[01:32.62] And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:35.08] Busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.84] Still nowhere to go\n[01:40.86] Still nowhere to go\n[01:44.55] Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n[01:47.24] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:50.00] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:53.06] One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.91] I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n[01:58.57] Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.73] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.18] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:07.01] Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.84] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.52] Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n[02:15.21] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.86] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.06] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.15] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.51] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.17] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n[02:32.32] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.59] Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.73] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.22] Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n[02:43.87] Oh, everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.99] Still nowhere to go\n[02:48.70] Still nowhere to go\n[02:51.91] Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n[02:54.92] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n[02:58.02] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.70] The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n[03:04.09] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:06.26] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.56] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.54] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.91] Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:17.07] Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n[03:20.21] Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n[03:23.42] Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.94] Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.74] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.41] Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n[03:34.25] You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n[03:37.18] Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n[03:40.13] Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.86] North to the south, to the east, to the west\n[03:45.65] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n[03:48.39] (High) and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.62] And show it me here, I-\n[03:53.56] This is just some two track reference shit\n[03:54.87] Just to see how it works\n[03:56.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words - Freeway, Harlem Boys Choir, Mos Def, Kanye West\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 266300\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  start_ms: 14220\n  end_ms: 16370\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16370\n  end_ms: 19080\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 19080\n  end_ms: 22000\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 22000\n  end_ms: 24840\n- text: Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24840\n  end_ms: 29100\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 29100\n  end_ms: 30470\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 30470\n  end_ms: 33160\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 33160\n  end_ms: 36770\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36770\n  end_ms: 39570\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  start_ms: 39570\n  end_ms: 42330\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42330\n  end_ms: 45200\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 45200\n  end_ms: 47930\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47930\n  end_ms: 50800\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 50800\n  end_ms: 53720\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53720\n  end_ms: 56430\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56430\n  end_ms: 59240\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  start_ms: 59240\n  end_ms: 62040\n- text: Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62040\n  end_ms: 64810\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64810\n  end_ms: 67760\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67760\n  end_ms: 70680\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 70680\n  end_ms: 73370\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  start_ms: 73370\n  end_ms: 76290\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76290\n  end_ms: 78870\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78870\n  end_ms: 81260\n- text: Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81260\n  end_ms: 85280\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85280\n  end_ms: 86840\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 86840\n  end_ms: 89620\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 89620\n  end_ms: 92620\n- text: And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92620\n  end_ms: 95080\n- text: Busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 95080\n  end_ms: 96670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96670\n  end_ms: 97840\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 97840\n  end_ms: 100860\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 100860\n  end_ms: 104550\n- text: Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  start_ms: 104550\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110000\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 110000\n  end_ms: 113060\n- text: One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 113060\n  end_ms: 115910\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  start_ms: 115910\n  end_ms: 118570\n- text: Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118570\n  end_ms: 121730\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121730\n  end_ms: 124180\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124180\n  end_ms: 127010\n- text: Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 127010\n  end_ms: 129840\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129840\n  end_ms: 132520\n- text: Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  start_ms: 132520\n  end_ms: 135210\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 135210\n  end_ms: 138860\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138860\n  end_ms: 141060\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 141060\n  end_ms: 144150\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144150\n  end_ms: 147510\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147510\n  end_ms: 149170\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149170\n  end_ms: 152320\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152320\n  end_ms: 155590\n- text: Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155590\n  end_ms: 157730\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157730\n  end_ms: 160220\n- text: Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160220\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Oh, everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165990\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 165990\n  end_ms: 168700\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 168700\n  end_ms: 171910\n- text: Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  start_ms: 171910\n  end_ms: 174920\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174920\n  end_ms: 178020\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178020\n  end_ms: 180700\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  start_ms: 180700\n  end_ms: 184090\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 184090\n  end_ms: 186260\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 186260\n  end_ms: 188560\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188560\n  end_ms: 191540\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191540\n  end_ms: 194910\n- text: Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194910\n  end_ms: 197070\n- text: Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n  start_ms: 197070\n  end_ms: 200210\n- text: Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 200210\n  end_ms: 203420\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203420\n  end_ms: 205940\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205940\n  end_ms: 208740\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208740\n  end_ms: 211410\n- text: Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n  start_ms: 211410\n  end_ms: 214250\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  start_ms: 214250\n  end_ms: 217180\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 217180\n  end_ms: 220130\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 220130\n  end_ms: 222860\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  start_ms: 222860\n  end_ms: 225650\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  start_ms: 225650\n  end_ms: 228390\n- text: (High) and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228390\n  end_ms: 232620\n- text: And show it me here, I-\n  start_ms: 232620\n  end_ms: 233560\n- text: This is just some two track reference shit\n  start_ms: 233560\n  end_ms: 234870\n- text: Just to see how it works\n  start_ms: 234870\n  end_ms: 236250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 236250\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too hard, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw ya hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes (throw your hands up high)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  And keep ya hands up, hustlers ('til they reach the sky)\n  Busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint five mics\n  Go Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  Barbershop playa-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Oh, everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, free way, two letters, AR\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through ya car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget ya squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screaming out four words, send for the law, uh\n  Two words, freeway slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in ya artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers asking who is that?\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off ya chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n\n  And show it me here, I-\n  This is just some two track reference shit\n  Just to see how it works\n"},{"id":584439,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"Def Jam 25, Vol. 23: Show and Prove","duration":267.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.26] We in the streets, player, get your mail\n[00:16.48] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:19.26] Still nowhere to go\n[00:21.99] Still nowhere to go\n[00:24.77] Now throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.85] Everybody, fuck that!\n[00:30.28] Still nowhere to go\n[00:33.04] Still nowhere to go\n[00:35.43] Listen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:38.82] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:42.48] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:45.07] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.94] Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n[00:50.66] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.75] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.34] We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n[00:59.20] Two words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\n[01:02.76] Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:05.01] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.67] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n[01:10.43] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.48] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:16.01] Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n[01:19.04] We won't stop, everybody move!\n[01:21.42] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.41] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:25.06] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.66] Still nowhere to go\n[01:29.75] Still nowhere to go\n[01:32.71] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.67] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.62] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:38.19] Still nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\n[01:40.73] Still nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n[01:43.52] Ayo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:47.27] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.99] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:53.00] One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\n[01:55.71] I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n[01:58.42] Go-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n[02:01.62] Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n[02:04.20] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n[02:07.09] Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.76] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:12.56] Two words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\n[02:15.14] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.61] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:21.07] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:24.01] 'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.52] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:29.44] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n[02:32.34] 'Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.31] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.65] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.19] Now throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\n[02:42.23] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:44.06] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.65] Still nowhere to go\n[02:48.39] Still nowhere to go\n[02:52.02] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.96] Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n[02:58.27] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:01.15] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:04.06] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:06.00] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.67] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.33] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.80] Forget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\n[03:17.27] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\n[03:20.35] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.72] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.80] Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.65] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.41] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:34.47] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.81] Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.86] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.98] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.59] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:48.97] (High), and show it to 'em like\n[03:52.80] Let me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work\n[04:26.23] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: 'Def Jam 25, Vol. 23: Show and Prove'\n  duration_ms: 267000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, player, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14260\n  end_ms: 16480\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16480\n  end_ms: 19260\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 19260\n  end_ms: 21990\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 21990\n  end_ms: 24770\n- text: Now throw your hands up, hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 24770\n  end_ms: 28850\n- text: Everybody, fuck that!\n  start_ms: 28850\n  end_ms: 30280\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 30280\n  end_ms: 33040\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 33040\n  end_ms: 35430\n- text: Listen, two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 35430\n  end_ms: 38820\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 38820\n  end_ms: 42480\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 42480\n  end_ms: 45070\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 45070\n  end_ms: 47940\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47940\n  end_ms: 50660\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50660\n  end_ms: 53750\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53750\n  end_ms: 56340\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 56340\n  end_ms: 59200\n- text: Two words, B-K, N-Y, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 59200\n  end_ms: 62760\n- text: Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 62760\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 67670\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 67670\n  end_ms: 70430\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 70430\n  end_ms: 73480\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73480\n  end_ms: 76010\n- text: Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  start_ms: 76010\n  end_ms: 79040\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move!\n  start_ms: 79040\n  end_ms: 81420\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81420\n  end_ms: 82410\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82410\n  end_ms: 85060\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 85060\n  end_ms: 86660\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 86660\n  end_ms: 89750\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 89750\n  end_ms: 92710\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92710\n  end_ms: 93670\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93670\n  end_ms: 96620\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96620\n  end_ms: 98190\n- text: Still nowhere to go (yo, excuse me, dawg)\n  start_ms: 98190\n  end_ms: 100730\n- text: Still nowhere to go (I apologize for the Westside, we finna get it jukin')\n  start_ms: 100730\n  end_ms: 103520\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103520\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 109990\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109990\n  end_ms: 113000\n- text: One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, give me that\n  start_ms: 113000\n  end_ms: 115710\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  start_ms: 115710\n  end_ms: 118420\n- text: Go-getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118420\n  end_ms: 121620\n- text: Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  start_ms: 121620\n  end_ms: 124200\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n  start_ms: 124200\n  end_ms: 127090\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 127090\n  end_ms: 129760\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129760\n  end_ms: 132560\n- text: Two words, Chi-town raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 132560\n  end_ms: 135140\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 135140\n  end_ms: 138610\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138610\n  end_ms: 141070\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 141070\n  end_ms: 144010\n- text: '''Cause on judgment day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 144010\n  end_ms: 147520\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147520\n  end_ms: 149440\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  start_ms: 149440\n  end_ms: 152340\n- text: '''Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho''d down'\n  start_ms: 152340\n  end_ms: 155310\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155310\n  end_ms: 157650\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157650\n  end_ms: 160190\n- text: Now throw your hands up ('til' they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 160190\n  end_ms: 162230\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 162230\n  end_ms: 164060\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 164060\n  end_ms: 165650\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 165650\n  end_ms: 168390\n- text: Still nowhere to go\n  start_ms: 168390\n  end_ms: 172020\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 172020\n  end_ms: 174960\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174960\n  end_ms: 178270\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 178270\n  end_ms: 181150\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 181150\n  end_ms: 184060\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 184060\n  end_ms: 186000\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 186000\n  end_ms: 188670\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188670\n  end_ms: 191330\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191330\n  end_ms: 194800\n- text: Forget your squad, better 'fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194800\n  end_ms: 197270\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" ugh\n  start_ms: 197270\n  end_ms: 200350\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 200350\n  end_ms: 203720\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203720\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 208650\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208650\n  end_ms: 211410\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211410\n  end_ms: 214470\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 214470\n  end_ms: 216810\n- text: Mos Def, K. West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216810\n  end_ms: 219860\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219860\n  end_ms: 222980\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222980\n  end_ms: 225590\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225590\n  end_ms: 228970\n- text: (High), and show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 228970\n  end_ms: 232800\n- text: Let me hear how some tune travel with you, let me see how it work\n  start_ms: 232800\n  end_ms: 266230\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":30373587,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout (Review Copy for Entertainment Weekly)","duration":267.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout (Review Copy for Entertainment Weekly)\n  duration_ms: 267000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":30094328,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":140.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 140000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":30094266,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":80.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 80000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":30265980,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":240.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 240000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":33250084,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The Collage Dropout","duration":53.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get your mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nNow throw your hands up\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n(Listen)\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\nTwo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop, everybody move\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAnd keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nAyo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\nOne wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, GRAMMY nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\nBarbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus, I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\nNow throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\nHustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nStill nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\nTwo words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\nRed, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back (throw your hands up)\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\nMos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\nAnd show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":"[00:14.06] We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n[00:16.29] It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n[00:18.84] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:21.67] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:24.64] Now throw your hands up\n[00:25.71] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[00:28.67] Everybody, fuck that\n[00:30.04] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:33.10] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[00:35.26] (Listen)\n[00:36.49] Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n[00:39.19] Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n[00:41.98] Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n[00:44.77] Presidential scandals, everybody move\n[00:47.44] Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n[00:50.43] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[00:53.17] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[00:56.08] We won't stop shit, everybody move\n[00:58.75] Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n[01:01.61] Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n[01:04.55] These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n[01:07.46] Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n[01:09.91] Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n[01:13.00] Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n[01:15.71] Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n[01:18.74] We won't stop, everybody move\n[01:21.05] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[01:22.20] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:24.94] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:26.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:29.52] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:32.39] And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n[01:33.55] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[01:36.19] Everybody, fuck that\n[01:37.79] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:40.72] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[01:43.67] Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n[01:46.85] 'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n[01:49.73] One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n[01:52.59] One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n[01:55.33] I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n[01:58.07] Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n[02:01.27] Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n[02:03.83] Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n[02:06.60] Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n[02:09.47] Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n[02:11.98] Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n[02:14.88] So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n[02:18.43] Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n[02:20.73] You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n[02:23.75] 'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n[02:27.47] Look, God, it's the same me\n[02:28.85] And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n[02:32.13] Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n[02:35.19] Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n[02:37.38] From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n[02:40.02] Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n[02:40.96] Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n[02:43.87] Everybody, fuck that\n[02:45.47] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:48.45] Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n[02:51.63] Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n[02:54.56] Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n[02:57.68] Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n[03:00.31] The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n[03:03.66] Two words, no guns, break arms\n[03:05.86] Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n[03:08.39] Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n[03:11.21] With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n[03:14.51] Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n[03:16.69] Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n[03:19.99] Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n[03:23.08] Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n[03:25.57] Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n[03:28.28] Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n[03:31.04] Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n[03:33.88] You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n[03:36.67] Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n[03:39.47] Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n[03:42.23] North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n[03:45.06] Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n[03:49.86] And show it to 'em like","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The Collage Dropout\n  duration_ms: 53000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  start_ms: 14060\n  end_ms: 16290\n- text: It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  start_ms: 16290\n  end_ms: 18840\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 18840\n  end_ms: 21670\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 21670\n  end_ms: 24640\n- text: Now throw your hands up\n  start_ms: 24640\n  end_ms: 25710\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 25710\n  end_ms: 28670\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 28670\n  end_ms: 30040\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 30040\n  end_ms: 33100\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 33100\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: (Listen)\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 36490\n- text: Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  start_ms: 36490\n  end_ms: 39190\n- text: Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  start_ms: 39190\n  end_ms: 41980\n- text: Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  start_ms: 41980\n  end_ms: 44770\n- text: Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  start_ms: 44770\n  end_ms: 47440\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  start_ms: 47440\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 53170\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 53170\n  end_ms: 56080\n- text: We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  start_ms: 56080\n  end_ms: 58750\n- text: Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  start_ms: 58750\n  end_ms: 61610\n- text: Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  start_ms: 61610\n  end_ms: 64550\n- text: These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  start_ms: 64550\n  end_ms: 67460\n- text: Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  start_ms: 67460\n  end_ms: 69910\n- text: Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  start_ms: 69910\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75710\n- text: Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  start_ms: 75710\n  end_ms: 78740\n- text: We won't stop, everybody move\n  start_ms: 78740\n  end_ms: 81050\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 81050\n  end_ms: 82200\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 82200\n  end_ms: 84940\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 84940\n  end_ms: 86790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 86790\n  end_ms: 89520\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 89520\n  end_ms: 92390\n- text: And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  start_ms: 92390\n  end_ms: 93550\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 93550\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 97790\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 97790\n  end_ms: 100720\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 100720\n  end_ms: 103670\n- text: Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  start_ms: 103670\n  end_ms: 106850\n- text: '''Cause I rep that ''til I fuckin'' die'\n  start_ms: 106850\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 112590\n- text: One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  start_ms: 112590\n  end_ms: 115330\n- text: I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  start_ms: 115330\n  end_ms: 118070\n- text: Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  start_ms: 118070\n  end_ms: 121270\n- text: Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  start_ms: 121270\n  end_ms: 123830\n- text: Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  start_ms: 123830\n  end_ms: 126600\n- text: Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  start_ms: 126600\n  end_ms: 129470\n- text: Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  start_ms: 129470\n  end_ms: 131980\n- text: Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  start_ms: 131980\n  end_ms: 134880\n- text: So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  start_ms: 134880\n  end_ms: 138430\n- text: Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  start_ms: 138430\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143750\n- text: '''Cause on Judgment Day, you gon'' blame me'\n  start_ms: 143750\n  end_ms: 147470\n- text: Look, God, it's the same me\n  start_ms: 147470\n  end_ms: 148850\n- text: And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 148850\n  end_ms: 152130\n- text: Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  start_ms: 152130\n  end_ms: 155190\n- text: Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  start_ms: 155190\n  end_ms: 157380\n- text: From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  start_ms: 157380\n  end_ms: 160020\n- text: Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  start_ms: 160020\n  end_ms: 160960\n- text: Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  start_ms: 160960\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: Everybody, fuck that\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 165470\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 165470\n  end_ms: 168450\n- text: Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  start_ms: 168450\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 174560\n- text: Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  start_ms: 174560\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 180310\n- text: The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  start_ms: 180310\n  end_ms: 183660\n- text: Two words, no guns, break arms\n  start_ms: 183660\n  end_ms: 185860\n- text: Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  start_ms: 185860\n  end_ms: 188390\n- text: Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  start_ms: 188390\n  end_ms: 191210\n- text: With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  start_ms: 191210\n  end_ms: 194510\n- text: Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  start_ms: 194510\n  end_ms: 196690\n- text: Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  start_ms: 196690\n  end_ms: 199990\n- text: Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  start_ms: 199990\n  end_ms: 203080\n- text: Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  start_ms: 203080\n  end_ms: 205570\n- text: Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 205570\n  end_ms: 208280\n- text: Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 208280\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 213880\n- text: You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 213880\n  end_ms: 216670\n- text: Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 216670\n  end_ms: 219470\n- text: Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 219470\n  end_ms: 222230\n- text: North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 222230\n  end_ms: 225060\n- text: Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  start_ms: 225060\n  end_ms: 229860\n- text: And show it to 'em like\n  start_ms: 229860\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get your mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Now throw your hands up\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  (Listen)\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, Black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed-Stuy\n  Two harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  And keep your hands up ('til they reach the sky)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Ayo, two words, Chi-Town, Southside, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck, two chains, one waist, two gats\n  One wall, twenty plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five Mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like, should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, GRAMMY nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader, prom-dated\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom and pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-Town, raised me, crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screaming, \"Jesus, save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on Judgment Day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled (throw your hands up high)\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus, I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n  Now throw your hands up (throw your hands up high)\n  Hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Still nowhere to go (nowhere to go)\n  Two words, Freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas into two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law,\" uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n  Red, white blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back (throw your hands up)\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\" (Throw your hands up)\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack (throw your hands up)\n  Mos Def, K West (throw your hands up)\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest (throw your hands up)\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west (throw your hands up)\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest (throw your hands up)\n  And show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":21325844,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"College Dropout (No Skits)","duration":268.306576,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: College Dropout (No Skits)\n  duration_ms: 268307\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":19845192,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":269.6954112,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 269695\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":20159122,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"The College Dropout","duration":53.681633,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: The College Dropout\n  duration_ms: 53682\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"},{"id":19953136,"name":"Two Words","trackName":"Two Words","artistName":"Kanye West","albumName":"College Dropout [UK]","duration":266.370625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\nIt's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, United States, no love, no breaks\nLow brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\nBig Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\nPresidential scandals, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\nWe won't stop shit, everybody move\n\nTwo words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\nToo harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\nThese streets know game, can't ball, don't play\nHeavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\nTwo words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\nCalm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\nGame 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\nWe won't stop, everybody move\n\nNow throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\nAnd keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\nOne neck two chains, one waist two gats\nOne wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\nI am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\nGo-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\nMost imitated, Grammy nominated\nHotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\nBarbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\nFelt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\nTwo words, Chi-town raised me crazy\nSo I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nScreamin', \"Jesus save me\"\nYou know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\nLook, God, it's the same me\n\nAnd I basically know now, we get racially profiled\nCuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\nPlus I got a whole city to hold down\nFrom the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\nNow throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\nEverybody, fuck that\nStill nowhere to go\nStill nowhere to go\n\nTwo words, freeway, two letters, A-R\nTurn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\nLike Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\nThe heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\nTwo words, no guns, break arms\nBreak necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\nFree, young boss, freshman of the Roc\nWith the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\nForget your squad, better fend for yourself\nHave you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\nTwo words, Freeway, slightly retarded\nFuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\nRed, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\nCalm down, move back\nMotherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\nYou know it's the almighty Black Jack\nMos Def, K. West\nGhetto people, get this shit off your chest\nNorth to the south, to the east, to the west\nBlack Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n(High) and show it to 'em like","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Two Words\n  artist: Kanye West\n  album: College Dropout [UK]\n  duration_ms: 266371\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We in the streets, playa, get ya mail\n  It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, United States, no love, no breaks\n  Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks\n  Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules\n  Presidential scandals, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit\n  We won't stop shit, everybody move\n\n  Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy\n  Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why\n  These streets know game, can't ball, don't play\n  Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move\n  Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit\n  Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this\n  Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock\n  We won't stop, everybody move\n\n  Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n  And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide\n  'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die\n  One neck two chains, one waist two gats\n  One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that\n  I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics\n  Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice\n  Most imitated, Grammy nominated\n  Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated\n\n  Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it\n  Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in\n  Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy\n  So I live by two words, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\n  Screamin', \"Jesus save me\"\n  You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me\n  'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me\n  Look, God, it's the same me\n\n  And I basically know now, we get racially profiled\n  Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down\n  Plus I got a whole city to hold down\n  From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now\n\n  Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes\n  Everybody, fuck that\n  Still nowhere to go\n  Still nowhere to go\n\n  Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R\n  Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners\n  Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner\n  The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God\n  Two words, no guns, break arms\n  Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal\n  Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc\n  With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl\n\n  Forget your squad, better fend for yourself\n  Have you screamin' out four words, \"Send for the law\", uh\n  Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded\n  Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad\n\n  Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)\n  Calm down, move back\n  Motherfuckers askin', \"Who is that?\"\n  You know it's the almighty Black Jack\n  Mos Def, K. West\n  Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest\n  North to the south, to the east, to the west\n  Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest\n  (High) and show it to 'em like\n"}]